Chapter 65 – Sushi (Part 2)
"Judging by your confused faces… well, I suppose it's normal. This dish comes from a small island nation—it's a traditional local cuisine."
Menchi, still young and possessing a mischievous streak, felt deeply satisfied watching the candidates scratch their heads in frustration.
"Alright, I'll give you all a hint. Go take a look inside."
Once she'd enjoyed enough of their panic, Menchi finally offered a lifeline.
Only then did everyone notice that beside Buhara was a door.
With his massive frame parked in front of it, no one had realized it existed.
Not knowing what else to do, the candidates rushed inside at Menchi's instruction.
Since Osren and his group had been standing closest to her, they entered first.
Inside was a row of fully equipped cooking stations—cutting boards, knives, sinks, and various seasonings. Everything essential was there.
It didn't quite match the grandeur of the "Cooking Coliseum" from Cooking Master Boy, but it was tidy and complete.
Knowing exactly what came next, Osren immediately led Gon and the others to claim several stations in the front row.
Location was a kind of invisible advantage.
Seeing this, the smarter candidates quickly followed suit, picking their spots without hesitation.
Everything was ready.
The stage was set.
"This is where you'll be making the dish. I've already prepared the basic tools and ingredients for you.
As for rice—an essential component of sushi—I've taken the liberty of cooking it beforehand.
And here's your biggest hint:
I will only accept nigiri sushi as a valid submission."
Hands on her hips, Menchi's expression glowed with anticipation.
Whenever she talked about cuisine, her whole presence lit up—her natural beauty going from a seven to a nine in an instant.
"Alright, the test begins now.
I'll end it the moment I feel full.
Until then, you can make as many pieces as you want."
With that, Menchi returned to the sofa. She crossed her slender legs elegantly, pale skin glowing under the light.
Her heart thumped with excitement—she couldn't wait to see the variety of nigiri sushi the examinees would attempt.
"Nigiri sushi…?"
Bodoro stared blankly, no less lost than before.
"Nigiri sushi…?"
Even Tonpa—the self-proclaimed veteran of the exam—furrowed his brows.
In all his years sabotaging rookies, he had never encountered anything like this.
Most candidates began nervously fiddling with knives or rice, unsure where to begin.
But one person stood out—Hanzo.
His expression twitched between a smirk and a grimace.
Muscles tight, fists clenched, body stiff—clearly trying to suppress something.
"This round is mine," Hanzo muttered confidently.
To avoid any unforeseen disasters, he spun in place and confirmed—
almost no one had started preparing.
Even those strange prodigies—Osren and his little group—were still huddled together and hadn't begun.
A perfect opportunity.
"Lucky… I'm way too lucky!
Who would've thought that the traditional dish of my homeland would show up as an exam question?"
Hanzo covered half his mouth with his hand, sneaking glances left and right as if terrified someone might catch on.
But the smug curl on his lips refused to be suppressed.
"But I can't let myself get carried away. If I look too confident, someone might notice.
No… the smart thing to do is to act clueless—quietly pass the exam alone. That's how a real genius operates."
When he glanced at the station next to him and saw Pokkle shaping his rice into a tennis-ball-sized lump, he nearly burst out laughing.
He had to turn around and cup both hands over his mouth just to stifle the sound.
Pokkle, meanwhile, noticed Hanzo's strange behavior.
"This guy… definitely knows something."
Annoyed, he angrily flattened his round rice ball with both palms.
Hanzo, however, was still happily convinced he was the only one who knew how to make proper nigiri sushi—completely unaware that Osren had already decided he'd reveal the method publicly, if only to keep Hanzo from suffering too much.
---
Gon scooped up a spoonful of steaming rice.
"Do we just use rice? Like this?"
Killua twirled a kitchen knife between his fingers.
"Tools like these are prepared… so we probably need other ingredients too. Just rice alone would be pointless."
Leorio rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Hand-shaped… I can kinda picture the shape of the dish.
But the most important part—the ingredient on top—I've got no clue."
"Osren, what do you think? How do we make it?" Gon asked.
If anyone else might know, Gon believed it was Osren.
In his eyes, Osren seemed to know everything.
Osren smiled and raised a finger.
"Did you forget the fish I told you to catch earlier?"
Leorio's eyes widened.
"You mean the dish uses fish?!"
He shouted so loudly that every single candidate turned to look.
"Osren is right," Kurapika said suddenly. "I think I've seen it in a document before—something about vinegar, rice, and fresh fish combined together."
"Exactly."
Osren nodded.
"Sushi rice mixed with sushi vinegar, topped with fresh fish—wrapped together by hand.
I was fortunate enough to once taste something made by the God of Sushi himself."
The God of Sushi!
Both Gon and Leorio froze in awe.
"Then what are we waiting for?"
The moment the idea sank in, the examinees lost all restraint.
With Kurapika confirming it and Osren explaining further, everyone scrambled out the door, sprinting straight for the riverside to catch fish.
"Unbelievable…
Even besides me, someone else actually knows this."
Hanzo grit his teeth.
"What annoying brats!"
He rushed out as well—if he wasted too much time, his advantage would vanish.
In the blink of an eye, the once bustling kitchen was left with only five people—the Osren group—standing conspicuously still.
---
"You're not going to catch fish?"
Menchi looked directly at Osren, curiosity and expectation clear in her eyes.
After the beggar's pig-heart dish he created earlier, she had extremely high hopes for him.
And now he even knew a dish from that tiny island nation?
Exceptional—truly exceptional.
In a world where culinary knowledge was fragmented and poorly recorded, simply knowing more was already a powerful advantage.
The more she looked at Osren, the more satisfied she felt.
But why were they just standing there, not moving at all?
Menchi tilted her head in confusion.