Money was important—but right now, that wasn't Kael's priority. Making money required a foundation first, and what he needed most at the moment was to use what he had to sharpen his cooking skills.
Once his skills improved, money would come naturally. Just look at Etsuya Eizan—that guy used his Elite Ten title and cooking reputation to create recipe partnerships all over the place.
Kael could do something similar later, but not without first reaching that level of skill. Without real talent to back it up, everything else would just be empty talk.
After laying out his plan, Kael rested for the night. The next morning, he headed out early. In Sakura, there were plenty of traditional medicine shops around—and in this version of the world, Sakura had long ago become a loyal vassal of the Tang Empire. Since then, it had stayed relatively peaceful and prosperous.
Buying the ingredients was easy enough. As long as you weren't trying to buy poison, anyone with money could get what they needed.
Luckily, the herbs in Kaiyu's medicinal bath formula weren't rare—just numerous. Kaiyu had only perfected the recipe after reaching a high level of medical expertise. In the World of Food Wars, though, a formula like this was practically a divine cheat.
"This stuff isn't cheap. At this rate, I'll burn through my cash in a few months."
Kael sighed, glancing at the bags of herbs in his hands. Still, he wasn't too worried. After all, he still had his apartment—one that the system had given him outright. Worst case scenario, he could sell it for a large sum, rent a smaller place, and keep training. Once his skills were solid, earning money wouldn't be a problem.
And with the Five Divine Senses helping him, he figured a few months would be more than enough to reach a decent level. When that time came, he could replicate Eizan's strategy for profit.
Sure, he wasn't part of the Elite Ten and didn't have fame on his side, but there were other ways to make a name—and while his route would be harder, it wasn't impossible.
Back home, Kael put away the herbs and then entered the Faction Inheritance space. His body entered physically, but outside, the system generated a projection of him. If anyone tried to touch or talk to that projection, the system would alert him instantly, allowing him to switch back without being noticed.
He arrived in the first sector of the Dark Cooking Society—a cavern lined with dozens of cooking stations. Each workstation was fully equipped with knives, pans, and tools of every kind.
Near the entrance sat a set of specialized gear—custom-made by the Dark Cooking Society. The equipment functioned like a weighted suit, applying resistance to every movement.
Once worn, even simple actions required tremendous effort. It was brutal training, but also incredibly effective for developing fundamental cooking skills.
The downside? It drained your body's potential. Without exceptional talent—or something like Kaiyu's medicinal bath—your body would break down eventually.
Kael's current objective was to master the eight fundamental techniques of a chef. To unlock the next area, he'd have to reach the level of a senior chef.
In the Chuuka Ichiban! world, chef ranks were divided as follows: junior chef, intermediate chef, senior chef, special chef, scale chef, dragon chef, and finally, Supreme Dragon Chef.
The senior chef rank was where Shao An stood during his first appearance, when he fought for control of Juxia Tower. And that was already no small feat—special chefs were exceedingly rare in that world.
Sure, later on, the story introduced scale chefs, dragon chefs, even Supreme Dragon Chefs—but those only appeared after Liu Maoxing and his allies had reached new heights themselves. Naturally, as their skills grew, so did the level of their opponents.
Here, in the Dark Cooking Society's training zone, reaching that senior chef standard was the bare minimum for survival. Anyone who failed to meet it simply... didn't make it out.
Without hesitation, Kael put on the weighted gear. His system might be a cheat, but that didn't mean he could slack off. Hard work was still essential—and that was something he was used to.
Before transmigrating, he'd been a delivery driver—rain or shine, hauling orders up staircases when elevators broke. He was no stranger to physical exhaustion.
So no, Kael didn't fear hardship. What he feared was working hard for nothing. But now, with the system backing him, he had no reason to hold back.
"This gear's insane… every movement has resistance. Feels like I'm rowing a boat or something."
After a few test motions, he realized the principle was similar to a rowing machine—it required constant strength to move. He could already imagine how it would feel practicing knife work or pan tossing in it.
For normal people, adapting to this would be hell. But Kael wasn't normal—he had four of the Five Divine Senses, including Divine Touch.
That ability allowed him to quickly adapt to the equipment's pressure. Of course, his body still had limits, so he'd need those medicinal baths and some martial training to improve his physical strength.
Otherwise, he wouldn't last long.
Once ready, Kael began his first session—knife training. Normally, he'd start with the basics: identifying knives, proper grip, posture. But thanks to Divine Sight and Divine Touch, he could skip all that and jump straight to cutting practice.
And it was immediately clear—having the Five Divine Senses was an absurd advantage.
Ordinary chefs spent weeks just learning how to hold a knife steady, how to adjust their force while cutting, how to sense consistency through endless repetition. Kael didn't need any of that.
With each stroke, his Divine Touch gave him instant feedback—angle, force, vibration, even micro-errors in pressure. All he had to do was correct himself in real time.
In other words, he could condense months of practice into hours.
Still, the weighted suit made it grueling. His arms began to ache almost instantly, muscles burning as if he were lifting dumbbells nonstop. Sweat dripped down his face, soaking his shirt—but Kael didn't stop.
He was hooked on the feeling of progress. Every correction, every swing of the knife brought improvement. The gains were small—but compared to an ordinary person's pace, he was improving a hundred times faster.