Chapter 431: Shirou and Erina
"No! No! That's not what I mean!" Erina was like a bristling kitten, claws out and teeth bared, yet she had no ability to actually intimidate anyone. She was so angry she started stomping her feet.
"So, are you going to stay or not?" Shirou asked again.
"I'm staying!" Erina puffed out her cheeks, pouting as she agreed.
Late at night, after the customers had eaten and left the small shop, Shirou used a long bamboo pole to take down the entrance curtain, brought it inside, and locked the door.
"Then let's prepare to begin. It's been over a week since you last came over, and I figured you were about ready for it," Shirou said. He turned off the outside lights, leaving the small shop bathed only in the dim, warm light of a candle, and turned to look at the blonde woman.
"Mm... yes." A beautiful blush appeared on Nakiri Erina's face. Though she seemed to be playing hard to get, she ultimately nodded in agreement.
In an instant, the sound of rustling clothes being removed echoed through the room.
When the door opened again, the blonde woman walked out dressed in a pure white chef's uniform, her long hair tied up and tucked under a hat.
"Then, let us officially begin! Tonight's culinary experiment." Shirou flicked a long towel and tied it around his forehead, turned on the flame, poured oil into the pan, and began the night's experiment alongside the blonde woman.
"Shirou-sama, may I ask if this action of yours has some special meaning? Is it like a ritual for Olympic athletes—crossing themselves, or kissing the ground?" the secretary, who had followed him in, asked curiously after changing into her own attire.
Shirou waved his hand casually. "No, it's actually just for fun; it has no meaning. Just think about it: in today's culinary world, everyone who wears a headband, ties a scarf, or wraps a bandana seems to be exceptionally powerful."
"Is that so? Ahaha," Hisako said with a dry laugh.
When she thought about it carefully, it really did seem that way. Excluding some of the domestic contestants, the strongest candidate for victory in this Chef's Grand Prix—which would determine the only true title for humanity—was an elderly man surnamed Liu from China.
He was the head of the "Jukkaro" (Chrysanthemum Pavilion), a veteran hotel in Sichuan Province with a history spanning hundreds of years. In his daily life, he was an old man who was almost always wrapped in a red bandana. Though he had white hair and a white beard, his physique was tall and upright, broad-shouldered and sturdy, standing half a head taller
than even the elder of the Nakiri family. When he walked, he moved with the force of a tiger; he was as robust as a man in his late twenties.
In his youth, he traveled to Guangzhou to study cooking and quickly earned the highest honor of the culinary certifications of that time. He then began traveling the world, visiting renowned chefs everywhere. He spent his entire life on this path; through such uninterrupted travel, he accumulated experience and insight, and his cooking skills were honed to a monster-level degree.
Legend had it that in his later years, to reach an even higher realm, he began searching for the Eight Legendary Kitchenware, and after collecting all the artifacts of China, he finally created a dish that granted eternal life. While it was unclear if it were true or not, records of legends surrounding him existed as far back as the Qing Dynasty.
Even for the elder of the Nakiri family, his strength was likely half a level below Senior Liu.
"Shirou, do you really not want to win at all?" Nakiri Erina asked, looking at Shirou with dissatisfaction.
It was rumored that the prize for the Chef's Grand Prix was a golden pot that could grant a person's wish. The prototype for the Holy Grail was actually a pot, so its appearance in this world wasn't a conflict. After all, there really were kitchen tools with incredible power in this world; the most famous were the Eight-Piece Set from China that granted immortality. However, compared to the Holy Pot of the Chef's Grand Prix, the Chinese kitchenware only displayed its true, greatest power when all were collected.
"I am enjoying the competition, but winning or losing isn't actually that important, is it?" The reason Shirou was indifferent to everything was proof that he had seen through it all. All things were empty; in this world, there really was nothing worth getting worked up about.
Erina pointed at Shirou, her expression one of "how disappointing," and shouted: "You are the champion of the Asia-wide, all-ages, no-holds-barred tournament! You've made it into the Top 4! Next, you have to face Senior Liu Mao Xing from China, my grandfather representing Japan, and the century-old master chef of the dark culinary world from France, to battle for the title of 'God of Chefs'! Can't you have even a little sense of tension?"
Shirou had once been one of the brightest stars among them. As the top graduate of the Ten Chefs from Totsuki Academy—the most famous professional culinary school in Japan—his portrait hung on the walls of the Moonlit Dining Hall.
Normally, a chef like him would be more than qualified to be the head chef at either a three-star Michelin restaurant or a centuries-old establishment. Many restaurants were even willing to give up two percent of their dividends just to have him join. If he preferred freedom, he could take out a loan to open a trendy, high-end restaurant; because he could earn the money back in no time, the bank would definitely be willing to lend to him.
In this era where chefs were like superstars, no matter which path Shirou chose, he could be glorious, famous, and wealthy. Yet, Shirou had made a choice that shocked everyone: he had become the owner, sole chef, sign-painter, and server of a small canteen that could barely squeeze in twenty people even when packed to capacity.
Shirou retorted: "Actually, my shop isn't without any fame. Look, this magazine even featured it; my shop is ranked tenth in the list of the most delicious and comforting small shops in this district."
"What are you happy about? This is a garbage magazine ranking so low in popularity that it doesn't even have enough sponsorships and has to scrape by just to fill its pages with other small shops!" Erina snatched the magazine, tore it in two, threw it on the floor, and, still feeling unsatisfied, raised her long leg and stomped on it several times.
"Wait, Miss, please calm down," Hisako said from behind, grabbing Erina's shoulders.
"Listen up! The only reason this kind of ranking doesn't list my restaurant is simply because it doesn't have the budget to even enter through my front door!" Erina said, hitting the nail on the head.
"I know, I know. It's not as if I haven't been preparing," Shirou said, still maintaining his Zen-like, indifferent attitude as he unhurriedly took a glass jar out of the kitchen cabinet.
"Humph, that's better!" Erina glanced at Shirou, confirming he wasn't lying, and then turned her head away, acting tsundere.
"Come and taste this, my new work," Shirou said as he unscrewed the jar.
"What is this?" Erina asked, puzzled.
"Don't ask, just open your mouth and have a taste," Shirou said, using chopsticks to pick up the special dish from the jar and holding it out to the woman's mouth.
The blonde girl looked at Shirou suspiciously, then leaned forward, opened her pink lips, and took the morsel from Shirou's chopsticks: "Ah..."
"Mmph~!" As soon as it entered her mouth, Erina's eyes widened.
"Actually, I've been researching new spices lately. Taste it and see where I can improve," Shirou said.
The sensation was like a gentle, unhurried stream, a roaring waterfall crashing down, the ebb and flow of the tide, and finally, a brilliant, rotating galaxy above the sky. The ever-changing scenery brought wave after wave of shock to the woman. Her god-like tongue was taking her on a "Star Trek" journey through the galaxy of gourmet food.
This was a precise, explosive aroma sauce. The moment it touched her taste buds, the flavor exploded like a detonation, rushing into every corner of her mouth, infecting even the air she breathed through her nose.
And yet, every spice was distinct and had an infinite aftertaste. The savory, spicy, salty, and sweet notes were all balanced into a state of natural harmony. It was like an archer who never missed a target—the arrow shot out and accurately struck the most sensitive point of the human taste bud that perceives deliciousness. At the same time, it possessed an explosive, shocking quality. This was a nuclear-level spice! A weapon of mass destruction in the culinary world.
In Erina's mind, she was already imagining which ingredients she could pair with this seasoning to create a multitude of "finishing blow" dishes.
"Here, Hisako, don't be shy." Shirou handed the jar and a clean spoon to the eager secretary, who, despite being a secretary, was actually Erina's childhood friend and bestie.
"Thank you, Shirou-sama." Hisako thanked him and impatiently tasted a mouthful. Her eyes immediately lit up. "Mmm-mmm~!!"
"Shirou! If it's this, maybe we really can win," Erina said, opening her eyes, grabbing Shirou's hand, and speaking with excitement.
"Mm-hmm," Hisako nodded repeatedly in agreement.
"See? Erina, I wouldn't lie to you," Shirou said, looking affectionately at the blonde girl and holding her hand.
"Shirou..." Erina looked at the young man, moved.
However, she quickly regained her senses, pushed Shirou away, and shouted:
"Wait! No! We haven't finished the serious discussion yet! I still can't accept your lifestyle as it is now. Shirou, since your cooking can surpass mine, your talent shouldn't be wasted here. You were the top graduate of Totsuki, yet the shop you run now attracts almost no one. Even if you look down on high-end clubs! Even if you want to live a 'salted fish' life, you should at least run a small, refined shop like the 'God of Sushi' or 'God of Tempura'!"
Although, given Shirou's age, having his own piece of property in a district often traveled by office workers in Tokyo—the capital of Japan where land was worth its weight in gold—was already quite good. But given his Zen-like management style, this restaurant was barely breaking even, which didn't match his elite background at all and couldn't be understood or recognized by the general public.
In this era, capable chefs were emerging one after another. Even good wine needs a good storefront; no matter how good your cooking was, if all you did was cook... and you insisted on popular, affordable prices without any packaging or promotion, it was impossible for many people to make a special trip every day just to eat a fast-food meal that was slightly better and slightly cheaper. The upper class would lose their status dining here, and even the biggest foodies couldn't eat simple home-cooked meals every single day.
Furthermore, this restaurant was one where he limited portions daily and didn't accept add-ons. Shirou's cooking was healthy, safe, and affordable, using the freshest vegetables and meat on the market, but he only made one hundred servings a day: thirty-something per meal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Ingredients were limited, and once they ran out, he closed the shop; so if you came late, you couldn't eat at all.
"But this kind of life is the healthiest, easiest, and most comfortable. Making food every day with the feeling that I'm letting a hundred people find happiness—it's not too tiring, and it's fulfilling. As for money, I also have patent dividends from new dishes I've developed, so there's absolutely no problem with my living expenses," Shirou said.
Influenced by another version of himself—a workaholic from a certain world—he no longer wanted to live a life of constant busyness. A simple, plain life was the truth. Giving up excessive desire, a simple and healthy life, and a relaxed, happy state of mind were more important.
"But... but..." The blonde woman's hands hung down, fists clenched, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, looking very wronged.
"But?" Shirou asked, puzzled.
"But... but! If you don't win the Holy Pot, then I won't be able to convince my family to let me marry you!!!" Nakiri Erina closed her eyes and shouted excitedly.
In one possibility among the Shirous of the universe, he had drifted into this world. When he first woke up, he was destitute and penniless; he met the Erina of this world, and upon her recommendation, enrolled in school. Shirou's talent for cooking was rare in the world. When he first entered Totsuki Academy, he was very unaccustomed to the "clothing-exploding" cuisine, immersive hallucinogenic cuisine, glowing cuisine, etc., of this world.
However, after a period of study and training, he finally survived the repeated, brutal elimination rounds and competitions. Once he integrated and mastered the rules of this culinary world's system, he soared. With the momentum of surpassing all heroes, he captured the seat of the Ten Chefs.
Erina, who was sharp-tongued but kind-hearted, frequently researched cooking with him, and through their back-and-forth, feelings blossomed.
When Nakiri Azami attacked, dismissed the elder Nakiri, took away the position of General Manager, and began the cold-blooded elite system of the Azami administration, Shirou and Erina formed a team and united the former First and Second seats of the Ten Chefs for a combined shokugeki. They confronted the other Ten Chefs, successfully repelled them, and rose to the top. Erina then took on the position of General Manager of the school.
After that, they fought side-by-side, experiencing subsequent difficulties, saving various industries that had cooperation relations with Totsuki that had encountered problems, and squared off against the "Underground Chefs" who specifically served the Yakuza, black-
market merchants, and secret meetings of foreign dignitaries. They won the championship of The Blue, the highest competition for chefs under thirty-five.
In the repeated shokugekis against renowned chefs, they continuously expanded Totsuki's influence in Asia and even the world, which could be considered an extraordinary achievement.
However, the interest groups surrounding the Nakiri family still had complaints about the relationship between the penniless boy, Shirou, and the young lady, Erina. Facing all this, Shirou had always maintained that Zen-like look of having seen through everything, leaving the young lady with no choice but to be anxious.
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