"Ms.Ethefelis signed you up for the Food King Tournament."
"What!?"
Grace and I shouted at the same time. I nearly spat out the food in my mouth.
"I think I just heard Ms. Grace. Mr. Karen, are you on speaker?"
I quickly swallowed my food and demanded an explanation.
"Yeah, but that's not important. You said Ethefelis signed me up for the Food King Tournament—why would she do that?"
"Ms. Ethefelis said the winner gets a wish granted."
A wish? Did Ethefelis want me to grant her something? And she chose to go through the Food King Tournament for it? It'd be faster to just ask her directly.
"Put Ethefelis on the phone."
"Okay."
A few seconds after Alice replied, the voice I expected came through.
"Ren bro."
"Ethefelis, why did you sign me up for the Food King Tournament—and under my name?"
"Eis only know eats."
…That sounded kind of tragic, though it was true—she wasn't someone who belonged in a kitchen. Still, she said it so casually. Even Grace, who was in a similar situation, gave an awkward, embarrassed smile.
It was obvious how badly she wanted this wish.
Given how reliable she usually was and how well she followed my instructions, I decided to give in.
"...Alright. What's your wish?"
"Unlimited free food."
Of course it was. A wish only a true foodie would make. I didn't even know how to respond.
If it were anyone else, it'd be fine—but with Ethefelis's appetite—easily five people's worth per meal—she could bankrupt a restaurant.
I had even asked her before whether her family ate the same way. She said, "Mom doesn't." Apparently, her appetite increases with age, jumping by five people's worth every twelve years.
At twelve, five servings. At twenty-four, ten servings. At thirty-six, fifteen servings—and so on.
Still, in this country, having a big appetite was considered a blessing. I was sure plenty of past winners had made similar wishes.
I could only pray this country's economy wouldn't collapse because of her.
"...Alright. When's the tournament?"
"The 15th."
"What's the theme?"
"Drinks."
"Drinks? Why that theme?"
I didn't really need to ask—Ethefelis probably didn't know either. It just slipped out.
But her answer caught me off guard.
"Because it's February."
"That matters?"
"Food King Tournament is on the 15th every month. Twelve themes."
"Every month!? That's way too frequent."
The tournament had been proposed by the general, so the schedule must've been his idea too. His craving for food was on another level—like he wanted to squeeze every last bit of creativity out of the people.
Still, since the winner got a wish, it gave participants strong motivation.
"I'll explain."
Just as I was coming to terms with the general's obsession, the man best at explaining things finally spoke up.
"Is Mr. Jacob," Grace said happily.
"I'm on speaker too. Grace, are you okay? You're not hurt, right?"
"I'm fine. I thought dungeon monsters would be strong, but they were surprisingly easy to hunt down. It's completely different from the ones outside."
These two were getting better and better at ignoring everyone else and slipping into their own world. Normally I wouldn't interrupt—I actually enjoyed watching—but right now, something more important was going on.
"Alright, save it for later. Explain the tournament first."
"Okay, okay. Originally, the Food King Tournament was held once a year. But the general started to feel that was too long, so it became twice a year. Then his craving for new food kept growing—it became once every four months, then every three, then every two… until about sixty years ago, it became once a month."
So his hunger really was that intense. Terrifying.
"And since hosting it so often sometimes led to repeated themes and fewer participants—even cases with only two contestants—the general eventually set fixed themes for each month, from January to December."
So he wasn't just squeezing creativity out of people—he also made sure participants had time to prepare and rest.
"Got it. So what are the monthly themes?"
"Appetizers, drinks, meat dishes, bread, snacks, noodle dishes, cakes, soup, meat dishes, bento, desserts, and rice dishes."
There seemed to be some kind of pattern, but I couldn't quite figure it out. Whatever. I couldn't remember the order anyway—I just noticed one thing.
"You said meat dishes twice."
"Because everyone loves meat."
"...That's a very straightforward explanation."
"So what should I make for a drink? I don't really know what's already been created."
These themes were open-ended—as long as you didn't stray from them. But without some kind of direction, I had no idea what to make. It was surprisingly difficult.
Then, through the speaker, I heard Jacob talking to Ethefelis.
"Ethefelis, do you know all the foods in this world?"
"Yes."
Of course she did. As a foodie, she must've memorized everything.
In that case, I could just use knowledge from my previous life.
First up—something globally popular and addictive.
"Ethefelis, have you heard of bubble milk tea?"
"Bubble milk tea? Is it milk tea with beautiful pearls inside?"
"Can you eat them?"
Alice and Jacob's reactions were completely reasonable—but it was just a metaphor.
"Don't worry. They're edible black pearls—chewy little balls. Ethefelis, have you heard of it?"
"No."
Perfect.
I actually knew how to make it.
Looks like even after over a thousand years of culinary development, this world hadn't caught up to my previous one.
"Alright, then I'll make bubble milk tea."
The moment I said that, Ethefelis immediately spoke up.
"Ren bro, Eis wants to find you."
I instantly understood her intention.
"You want to taste it first, right? No way. You signed me up without asking—I'm a little annoyed. If you come into the dungeon to find me, you're not getting any."
Messing with my plans had consequences. Still, since she was usually obedient and only got stubborn about food, I toned my irritation down to just "a little."
"...Understood."
Her calm reply carried a hint of disappointment—and reflection. That alone made her a good kid.
Even though she couldn't be the first to taste it—since Grace would be my test subject—I'd make sure to bring her something delicious as a reward.