A tidal wave of cheers and stomping feet crashed against the ancient stone walls, the very air vibrating with a fever-pitch anticipation.
High above, the colossal Light Box shimmered to life, projecting sweeping views of the pristine, empty cooking stations, each one a potential altar for a culinary miracle.
Master Guy's voice, amplified and dripping with theatrical relish, boomed across the cavernous space, feeding the crowd's energy. [ AURORA AND ALL OF VALERIA! WELCOME BAAAAACK! The response is absolutely electric!
I'll be honest with you, folks, this year's spectacle is so utterly phenomenal that I've decided to personally oversee the commentary for the remainder of the tournament! I simply cannot bear to miss a single, glorious moment!
And today, the stakes are higher than ever. We continue our knockout battles of individual skill. From this point on, every dish is a statement, every flavor a gamble with their entire future! ]
* * *
Meanwhile...
In the hushed tension of the contestants' waiting room, a different kind of energy crackled. The seven figures who constituted the empire's greatest culinary hope stood in a loose circle, a study in contrasts.
Lucius Frost was a statue of chilled indifference, his light blue eyes fixed on nothing. Beside him, his twin sister Eira mirrored his stillness.
The purple-haired Ixchel shifted his weight with restless energy, while the Royal Cooks, Albian and Helene, stood with the composed poise of seasoned veterans. Lior was talking to Yuliana who in contrast wasn't much of a speaker.
Ji Hoon, however, was not with them. He stood before a small administrative desk where a young clerk sat.
"Contestant Ahn," she said, her voice a little breathless as she slid a final form across the desk. "You only need to sign here to approve your supplemental ingredient."
Ji Hoon took the proffered pen. His hand moved swiftly, not with the blocky script of this world, but with a fluid, practiced motion, signing a swirled, cursive 'J' and 'L' that intertwined into a single, elegant monogram.
As he took his bottle from the counter and turned to leave, the clerk's voice called out again, hesitant but earnest. "W-Wait! Contestant, I… I had to take a small sample for safety verification, and… I have never tasted such a thing. May I ask… where did you buy such a beautiful wine?"
Ji Hoon paused, looking back at her, then down at the bottle in his hand. It was a simple, clear glass vessel, sealed with a wax-dipped cork.
Within, the liquid was a deep, mesmerizing mahogany, clinging to the glass with a slow, rich viscosity. Even sealed, a faint, intoxicating aroma escaped—a complex bouquet of caramelized sugar, dark vanilla, and a warm, oaky spice that promised both fire and comfort.
"I didn't buy it," Ji Hoon said, a faint, tired smile touching his lips. "I made it myself. My family owns a winery. You can check it out—it's called Ahn Winery."
He moved to join the others as the clerk, her eyes wide, quickly scribbled the name on a scrap of parchment.
Ji Hoon walked towards his fellow quarter-finalists, the weight of the bottle solid in his grip. This was the first of its kind in this world.
A drink he had spent the entirety of yesterday—the time that should have been for rest and recuperation—laboring to create.
This was his dark rum, a spirit born not from years in a barrel, but from the focused power of Alchemy and the Transmutative Fusion of a potent grain spirit and heavily caramelized molasses, its aging process artificially accelerated and perfected by his will alone.
He looked at the seven other contestants. The room felt cavernous with only eight of them left, the air thinner, the silence between them heavier. Each one was a mountain to climb.
And in his hand, he held not a sword, but a key. A key to a memory, and perhaps, to a victory no one in this world could yet comprehend.
The solid weight of the rum bottle was a comforting anchor in Ji Hoon's hand. As he scanned the room of elite competitors, his gaze found two familiar faces looking back: Yuliana, her expression unreadable but focused, and Lior, who offered a small, encouraging nod. Weaving through the tense silence, he made his way to them.
"Cutting it close, brother," Lior said, his usual grin tempered by the gravity of the moment.
"Got held up," Ji Hoon replied, his voice calm.
Yuliana's sharp green eyes flickered from his face to the bottle. "We wondered where you were."
"Just at the registration desk," Ji Hoon explained, hefting the container slightly. "I had to register a new ingredient I wanted to use."
Both Lior and Yuliana stared at the unmarked bottle, their confusion evident. Lior pointed at it, his brow furrowed. "That's your ingredient? Not some rare berry or a magical spice… but a bottle of… what is that, liquor?"
Ji Hoon gave a single, confirming nod.
A look passed between Lior and Yuliana—a mixture of disbelief and a strange, fond resignation. Lior shook his head, a genuine laugh escaping him. "You are the weirdest, most wonderful cook I have ever met. You always choose the path no one else even sees. First Sea Sugar, then that volatile yeast, and now… a mystery drink."
Ji Hoon's lips curved into a faint, tired smile. "Do I?" he mused, as if considering it for the first time. He then glanced around the diminished group. "Anyway, have you guys heard from Ansen?"
Lior's face brightened. "Oh! He's back working at the diner! I saw him yesterday. He was too busy to come watch in person, but he told me to tell you both good luck."
The simple message from their shy former teammate cut through the competitive tension, bringing a shared, genuine smile to their faces. For a moment, they weren't rivals, but comrades who had survived the first trial together.
The moment was shattered by the sharp click of the door opening. The man in the crisp blue uniform stood framed in the doorway, his posture rigid, his gaze sweeping over the eight finalists.
"Contestants," his voice rang out, clear and commanding. "The arena awaits. Follow me."
The brief camaraderie vanished, replaced by the stark reality of the duel to come. The time for talk was over.
* * *
Back to the Arena...
[ Ladies and gentlemen, ] Master Guy's voice resonated, sharp and clear, cutting through the ambient roar.
On their stations, Ji Hoon and the seven other contestants looked up as one, their focus snapping to the main stage. [ Today, the eight culinary artists before you will be tested, judged, and elevated by two of our most esteemed and discerning palates! ]
The massive Light Box flickered, its view shifting from the competitors to the imposing judges' table. The image zoomed in, capturing two figures rising from their seats as their names blazed across the screen in brilliant, golden script.
[ Standing as one of the greatest cooks in Valeria's culinary world, a woman whose tenure as Chief Royal Cook set a standard of perfection for a generation, the formidable Fifth-Rank Minister… Mistress Albertine Simonet! ]
A thunderous, respectful roar erupted from the crowd. Albertine did not smile. She offered a slight, rigid nod, her silver-braided crown catching the light, her expression one of unyielding severity.
Her gaze, even from a distance, seemed to sweep across the stations like a cold front, promising no quarter.
[ And joining her, ] Guy continued, his tone shifting to one of deep respect, [ a man known for a palate that can discern the soul of an ingredient, whose composure is as legendary as his critical eye, the Fourth-Rank Minister… Master Marcus! ]
The applause swelled again, warmer this time. Marcus stood calmly, his hands clasped behind his back. He offered a slight, acknowledging bow to the crowd, his stoic face giving nothing away.
Yet, his eyes, sharp and analytical, met Ji Hoon's for a fleeting second across the vast distance—a silent, weighty acknowledgment.
On his station, Ji Hoon felt the gravity of the moment settle upon his shoulders.
The traditionalist who believed his methods were reckless disrespect, and the believer who saw a potential no one else could are going to judge him today.
They were the gatekeepers. His future in this competition, and perhaps his ability to prove his philosophy, now rested entirely in their hands.
Master Guy let the confused murmur of the crowd wash over him before leaning into the voice amplifier, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
[ Okay contestants! ] Master Guy's voice rang out. [ Time for the main event! We will now reveal the theme concept of this round. And the thing we're looking for is... ]
[ Memories! ] he roared, letting the word hang in the air.
Confusion spread through the arena. Contestants looked at each other. The audience whispered. Ji Hoon got focused. 'A memory? How would that even work..?'
[ We all have them. A specific moment, a cherished person, a feeling you can almost taste.
Your challenge is to reach into that intangible past and pull it onto a plate. Create a dish that doesn't just feed the body, but stirs the soul.
Make the judges remember their own favorite time. You will be judged on your intuition, your creativity, and the skill to bring it all to life! ]
Ji Hoon's mind raced. 'A subjective judgment? So, it's not about technical perfection, but about emotional connection?'
[ And now! ] Guy's voice snapped back to its booming intensity, [ The star of the show! The foundation of civilization itself… Flour! ]
The center stage opened, revealing towering stacks of sacks. Wheat, rye,...spelt—dozens of varieties stood ready.
[ Before you lies every type of flour you could need. Choose wisely, for the entire character of your 'memory' will be built upon it! ]
The massive Light Box flickered, its view zooming in on one specific, isolated sack. The flour inside was a delicate, almost unnatural shade of light pink.
[ And in this round we've seen some of our contestants are...a bit of dare devils ] he said looking at Ji Hoon and Lucius for a brief second. [ and so for our true daredevils…]
Guy's voice grew tense with excitement. [ We present a Grade-S nightmare! Sourced from the famous fields of Maria, with an aroma so captivating and intoxicating it can disorient from a mile away…
I give you the Rosaline Flour!
A single misstep, and your beautiful memory will be the last thing your judges remember! Contestants… you may now choose your flour! ]
The announcement ended. The other contestants stared at the pink sack with a mixture of fear and fascination.
But two eyes, Lucius's and Ji Hoon's eyes, however, were already scanning the common flours, their mind working, a plan already forming. They knew exactly which one they needed.