Before long, Shun followed behind Chin Chinchin to the back mountain of Shokurin Temple.
At the end of a narrow path spread a boundless sea of bubbles.
Countless spheres—large and small, glass-clear and gleaming—piled into a road that stretched beyond sight, winding into the mist-veiled depths of the back mountain. The view was magnificent.
This was the only path to the temple's treasured Soap Bubble Fruit—Bubble Avenue.
Chin Chinchin pointed ahead. "This road of bubbles is Bubble Avenue. It's the sole way to the Soap Bubble Fruit. Walking it is, in itself, training."
"Walking… is training?"
Shun blinked, then crouched and touched a floating bubble with his fingertips, feeling that extreme fragility and softness. The difficulty dawned on him at once.
So that's it.
Any discordant breath, any ripple of emotion, any imperfect control of strength—one slip and it's all for nothing.
Seeing the comprehension in Shun's eyes, Chin Chinchin said, "Only after you pass this avenue, obtain the Soap Bubble Fruit, and return will your Shigi training be complete. By then, Shun, you should grasp a new Gourmet Esoterica."
Shun nodded, saying nothing more.
"However," Chin Chinchin's tone turned grave, "the true Soap Bubble Fruit is extremely shy and terribly jealous. Aside from me—an old acquaintance—only one person has ever crossed Bubble Avenue and met it. It refuses the sight of any other ingredients. You must not bring any food along."
"I understand," Shun answered.
He stepped after Chin Chinchin onto the strange road woven from bubbles—Bubble Avenue.
At first, doubts tugged at his mind. Unlike the perils of the Forest of Trees he'd braved, there were no monstrous roars, no threats at all—only an unnerving quiet.
All he could see was an endless, soundless ocean of bubbles.
It ran to the very edge of the world.
This pure-white realm felt empty and unreal. What trial awaited him here?
He sensed it already—this would be nothing like his past ordeals. This was a journey aimed straight at the heart.
After roughly half an incense, the scenery remained unchanged. Only the faintest almost-nothing sound accompanied each step as his soles kissed the bubbles.
Shun finally spoke, his voice crystal-clear in the hush. "Chin-shihan."
"Hm? What is it, Shun?" Chin Chinchin didn't look back, his steps steady.
"This training… how is it essentially different from our previous Shigi practice?"
"In essence?" Chin Chinchin mused, then replied evenly, "To express an inexhaustible gratitude to 'food'—that is Shigi. You temper that feeling without end, pushing it toward the extreme."
"I see," Shun murmured.
Chin Chinchin continued, "At the summit of Shigi lies a state of total immersion in eating and gratitude. We call it Shoku-metsu (Food Inmersion)—a final esoterica that only those who elevate thankfulness to its utmost can reach."
So it is… Shoku-metsu. Just as he'd guessed.
"Total immersion in eating? That sounds no different from simply eating with care," Shun probed.
"The gulf is vast," Chin Chinchin denied. "Ordinary meals still carry the desire to 'fill the belly.' Shoku-metsu is pure gratitude and merging. You'll understand soon enough, Shun."
With that, he fell silent and led on.
Shun lost track of how long they walked—an hour, perhaps two.
No beasts appeared. No weather changed. The same eternal stillness, the same pure white, draped over everything.
And then he realized: this tranquil trek was the harshest trial.
The threat came not from outside, but within—the crushing loneliness of a road without end… and the gnawing creep of hunger.
In past training, no matter the hardship, rich ingredients and a full meal awaited as reward.
But not here. On this unending avenue, there was nothing to eat. Without using the system, there was no stored food to draw upon.
The Soap Bubble Fruit lay like a mirage at the horizon—too distant to offer any real promise.
"…So that's it. This boundless emptiness and thirst—this is the true trial," Shun understood.
He glanced back. The bubble road behind still stretched to a vanishing point.
He realized the path might have no end at all. Those who bore food's gratitude through the worst of times kept going even in utter despair.
"I can't collapse here…" he told himself.
Time blurred.
Perhaps a day passed, perhaps two. Without food or water, his strength clearly waned. A deep weakness seeped through him.
He could feel his weight dropping; since returning to the temple he'd already shed more than ten jin—sign of a body burning through itself.
Two days and nights of walking. Nothing but bubbles.
Not just hunger—fatigue of body and mind. That was the deadliest part.
On this road of nothingness and lack, the true trial was to resist hunger, keep the mind clear, and hold fast to gratitude for food.
Hunger swelled like a tide. Shun's body edged toward its limit.
With both hunger and hollowness within, his Shigi began to fray.
A dangerous sign.
And yet Chin Chinchin, who had eaten nothing either, showed not the slightest loss of weight. His steps stayed light and sure.
That was the power of Shoku-metsu (Food Inmersion) —the highest mystery within Shigi—which he had mastered.
Don't be fooled by his small frame; at this moment, Chin Chinchin's body mass was one ton.
…
(End of Chapter)
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