"Let's go. With these sequences as a lead-in, the days ahead won't be boring."
Noticing the hostile gazes from some around them, Okabe whistled lightly, then said to Erina Nakiri and Hisako Arato standing beside him.
Many shared the same thought.
Especially those who had earned sequence titles; they all silently withdrew from the crowd to avoid being surrounded by these red-eyed guys and getting into inexplicable trouble.
"Sequence 100th place? That means there are at least 99 people in this academy stronger than me..."
"I'm getting a bit excited!"
His headband still untied and fluttering in the air, Soma Yukihira looked at the sequence and murmured, his face surging with intense fighting spirit.
Many others felt the same.
Seeing their low rankings naturally sparked thoughts that they were no less than anyone else, igniting a strong desire to challenge.
"Wah wah wah, Brother's name isn't even on there at all. That's hilarious!"
A boy with flaxen hair and a relatively slim build patted the shoulder of the blond boy beside him while laughing heartily.
"What's so funny? Isami's name isn't up there either."
The blond boy slapped away Isami Aldini's hand on his shoulder, his youthful face filled with embarrassment and annoyance.
"It's normal for me not to be on there, right? After all, my talent and strength aren't as good as Brother's. I'd only appear if Brother made it first."
Isami Aldini tilted his head, acting as if it were a matter of course.
"You can't say that. You have plenty of strengths I lack."
"No matter which of us made it, it wouldn't be surprising. We just didn't expect neither of us to be on this list. What a lack of judgment!"
As he said this, the blond boy—Takumi Aldini—ground his teeth, clearly not expecting even to qualify for the list.
"Indeed, it seems this year's freshmen are of very high quality. If even Brother can't make the list, what kind of monsters are on there!"
Isami's voice carried a hint of feeling as he stared at the ranking list in a daze.
"Not making the list doesn't necessarily mean we're weak. We've been helping at the family restaurant these past few years and had no time for competitions. Others gained titles through matches, so without knowing us, they'd prioritize them."
Takumi came up with a reasonable explanation for not making the list, his face regaining confidence. "As long as we smoothly defeat them in the upcoming challenge matches, we can claim sequences too. Then we'll show Tōtsuki who the real geniuses are!"
Though he didn't know what the sequences were for, the prize money alone was enticing enough.
Beyond that, successful challenges in future sequence battles would yield rewards from opponents, usable for kitchen tools and ingredients.
Worst case, save it up and open a restaurant after graduation!
It was all benefits, no drawbacks!
"Soma Yukihira, sequence 100th. You're my next opponent!"
Takumi roared inwardly at Soma Yukihira.
Takumi murmured inwardly, flames burning in his eyes.
This would be his first step on the path to growth!
On the other side.
Akira Hayama crossed his arms, looking at his sequence number with an expressionless face.
Since being brought back from a South Asian slum by Shio Sakaki five years ago, he'd been at the Shio Research Institute.
Tōtsuki Academy had somehow ranked him in the top 50 right away; the school had some discerning eyes.
Unfortunately, just discerning.
With his strength, top 3 wouldn't be excessive. 31st was somewhat insulting, but understandable.
After all, since arriving at Tōtsuki, he'd been at the Shio Research Institute as her assistant in spice research, never participating in proper competitions or showing strength publicly. Ranking him 31st based on experience was already appreciative.
"I'll stay at this ranking for now. Better to act after gauging the situation."
With that thought, Akira Hayama turned and left.
He'd promised Shio Sakaki to go down the mountain after class to buy spice seeds; any later and they'd be late.
"Boring..."
Ryo Kurokiba shrugged at the list, spat out two words, and lazily turned away.
This was during morning classes in the teaching building.
Most had no classes.
By the time they heard, hours had passed.
Polaris Dormitory.
Everyone returned one after another, gathering at the dining table for lunch.
"What?!"
"The sequence list? What's that..."
Taki Kakizaki and Yuki Yoshino showed puzzled expressions, then got up and crowded around Okabe to check his tablet.
"Simply put, it's a ranking for this year's students. Higher ranks get richer prizes to spark competition."
Okabe explained briefly.
"But the gaps here are huge. Okabe first place, Erina-sama in top ten, Hisako-sama, even Soma-kun made it?!"
Yuki Yoshino exclaimed in surprise, spotting Erina Nakiri and Hisako Arato's names further down.
"Ranking first among so many powerhouses is exaggerated, Okabe-kun."
Taki Kakizaki was equally shocked. She knew Okabe was strong but not that he'd top the freshmen.
"He has the skill for Elite Ten-level dishes. First among a bunch of fledglings is normal."
Taki Kakizaki shoveled rice as she spoke.
"But Erina surprised me, making top ten too."
"What do you mean! What do you mean by that!"
Hearing Taki Kakizaki's follow-up, the quietly eating Erina Nakiri flushed and shouted, eyes full of strong dissatisfaction.
"Praising you. Thought you were just capable, but you're this capable."
Realizing she'd spoken her true thoughts, Taki Kakizaki blushed but kept a straight face.
"Stare..."
Erina Nakiri wasn't buying it.
"By the way, I've been hearing about Shokugeki lately. What is it exactly? Top ten sequences lack specific rules—do they use Shokugeki to fight for them?"
Soma Yukihira suddenly raised his hand with a long-buried question.
The room fell silent.
Other eavesdropping freshmen turned curious gazes.
As new enrollees a week in, they didn't fully grasp Tōtsuki rules; they knew Shokugeki only as a dispute resolver.
"Tōtsuki has a system for student disputes with rules to follow. To challenge for something, you must wager equivalent stakes."
Rindo Kobayashi and Sonoka Kikuchi exchanged glances; Rindo explained.
"Equivalent stakes?"
Yuki Yoshino felt uneasy.
She'd thought Shokugeki was just a battle stage for the dissatisfied, but it seemed more.
"Three conditions to start.
First, a referee to certify it's official.
Second, an odd number of judges.
Third, both sides agree on victory conditions. With these, it begins."
Rindo held up three fingers, glancing at Okabe.
"For example, closest to Shokugeki is Okabe.
Sequence 1st, 10 million yen/month scholarship.
Such status and prize can't be held without strength; countless sharks will devour him."
"In other words, gather these conditions, and anyone here can be your opponent—even Elite Ten. Beat them, you're the new one."
Rindo's voice was teasing, seductive.
"So, beat Kakizaki-senpai and become Elite Ten?"
Soma Yukihira looked at Taki Kakizaki opposite, eyes gleaming.
"Theoretically yes, but wager equivalent stakes. Elite Ten status? Dropout won't suffice. Okabe-kun's sequence 1 could, as top three equals Elite Ten."
Taki Kakizaki eyed Soma speechlessly, then Okabe.
"No plans to steal Kakizaki-senpai's Elite Ten spot. But per what you said, besides freshmen, upperclassmen can seize sequences via Shokugeki too?"
Okabe keenly caught the deeper meaning.
"Everything at Tōtsuki can be won via Shokugeki—its supreme rule. Now, when upperclassmen realize and swallow pride is another matter."
Rindo's lips curved, schadenfreude evident.
"Bridge will sort itself. Upperclassmen aren't necessarily stronger; culinary world values strength over seniority. Realizing Shokugeki for sequences but unable to win is empty talk."
Catching Rindo's implication, Okabe shrugged indifferently. Others' business wasn't his; he'd welcome upperclassmen challenges.
"Okabe-kun's quite confident in this year's freshmen."
Rindo was surprised.
"Not freshmen—people around me. Upperclassmen just studied longer; nothing special."
Okabe stated plainly.
For now, even freshmen watched; no one wanted to be first and risk flipping into a joke.
After lunch, everyone dispersed.
Okabe returned to his room, standing by the window overlooking the newly tilled backyard plot.
Seeds sown, awaiting sprouts.
"Next while won't be peaceful—but that's why I came to Tōtsuki. Hope these guys don't disappoint."
He murmured, minds flashing to list names.
Akira Hayama, Ryo Kurokiba... plus unseen powerhouses. Five between Erina Nakiri and him.
As Erina's grandfather knowing her upbringing, Senzaemon Nakiri ranked reasonably.
Knock at the door.
"Come in."
Okabe withdrew thoughts, surprised at the entrance.
Door opened slowly; Megumi Tadokoro entered with a tray: hot tea and small sweets.
"Megumi, what brings you?"
"Saw you ate little at lunch, so made tea snacks..."
She said shyly.
"Thanks."
Okabe took the tray, surprised but placing it on the table. "Perfect, I'm hungry. Sit and share."
"Okay."
Megumi sat.
Silence fell.
As Okabe sought icebreaker, Megumi looked up.
"Okabe-kun, about Tōtsuki's sequences, what's your take? Sequence 1st—nervous or worried?"
Her voice hesitant, fingers twisting skirt.
"Nervous a bit—unknown territory. But more excitement than nerves, no worry."
Surprised by her question, Okabe answered honestly.
"Clashing styles teaches new cuisines fast, spots weaknesses, grows stronger."
Megumi stared, grasping Rindo's words.
Follow the strong.
He never defended; facing challenges, he sought battle for growth.
To survive, no classroom complacency—hone via fierce duels, progress in intense Shokugeki!
Tōtsuki's foundation.
"Thanks, Okabe-kun. I know my direction now... wonder if my level suffices..."
"Do it. Lose? Retry. We're young—time and trials abound. Don't fear failure."
Seeing her resolve, Okabe knew her true intent: shine in this wave.
Indeed.
Okabe smiled.
Tōtsuki chefs can't settle ordinary.
"I'll go then."
"Mm. Ask if stuck."
"Got it—thanks then!"
Megumi stood, beaming at him.
Vegetarian Research Society.
Vast room held three: one monk, two young novices.
Natsuo ground dried mushrooms leisurely at the counter.
Air thick with soil, dry grass, aged wood—invigorating.
"Master."
"When convert to temple?"
A novice broke silence.
Natsuo's hands steady, voice echoing: "Buddha in heart; anywhere temple. Mind makes inch of land pure. This room just vessel for Buddhist cuisine."
He paused grinding, sniffed brown powder, satisfied.
"More importantly..."
"With sequence list, 10 million yen/month—we root and spread Buddhist cuisine at Tōtsuki."
Gaze to window, sprouting saplings outside, voice firm.
"But Master, that Okabe seems strong—else not Tōtsuki's top judge. When challenge?"
Other novice queried.
Natsuo poured powder into jar, sealed, turned with compassionate calm smile.
"No rush. Gun hits head bird first; first charger dies fastest. Besides..."
Eyes deepened.
"Think only I want him? List out, he's target."
"We observe: his strength, challengers' methods, Tōtsuki's stance and rule edges."
"Then..."
To wall, bold calligraphy.
"Watch changes, strike later."
"In this academy, last laugher isn't boldest, but most patient, timing-savvy."
Finger traced ink.
"Let bullets fly a bit more."
Meanwhile, vacant cooking classroom.
Takumi adjusted portable grill intently. Isami kneaded dough beside.
"Brother, special training now?"
Isami covered dough. "Less than two hours post-class."
"Time waits not, Isami."
Takumi, golden hair firelit.
"List out; challenges anytime."
"That Soma Yukihira, 100th even last—not average. Full prep needed."
Carefully seared small beef in hot cast iron; sizzle sang.
"We lack records, recognition."
Eyes sharp.
"First win must dazzle, swift! Flawless Italian cuisine—make all remember Aldini brothers!"
Isami nodded at brother's focus. "Yeah! Full support!"
No more words; only chopping, flames, clangs echoed.
Urgency and zeal filled air.
Shio Spice Research Institute.
Akira Hayama opened heavy door; layered spice scent hit.
Shelves of jars—dried, fresh spices; walls notes, charts.
"Back, Shio."
Hung jacket.
"Ah, Akira!"
Petite bespectacled ponytail brunette emerged from books, tubes: spice prof Shio Sakaki.
Pinched purple powder: "Perfect timing—see this!"
"New 'phantom pepper' extract from North America—flavor progression unreal!"
Akira took dish, sniffed trace.
"Top: black pepper spice, softer. Mid: citrus, woody. Tail: chocolate, smoke. Interesting."
Eyes gleamed.
"Right?!"
Shio bounced childlike.
"Full extraction, stable—revolutionary in cuisine!"
Akira nodded, smiling indulgently at her.
"Shio."
"You know today's sequence list?"
"Sequence? Newbie ranking? Heard bits. You at..."
"31st."
"31st?!"
Shio paused, frowned dissatisfied.
"Too low!"
"With your strength, no records—should be higher! Review flawed? I'll see Commander..."
"No need, Shio."
Akira held her arm, faint proud arc.
"Rank's just number. Doesn't define strength or limit future. Instead..."
To bench, shook pale gold oil vial.
"This rank's perfect.
Mid—not spotlighted, not dismissed. Quiet research. When ripe..."
Set vial, eyes to Shio: calm, deep, supreme confidence.
"My spices will silence all doubters!"
"Okabe? Interesting. Hope you bring fun."
Kitchen shadows, man's fingers danced butterfly-like; hair-thin noodles dangled, leaped alive.
Fire flickered, lit half-shadowed face, cruel playful smile.
"Tōtsuki... Shokugeki paradise, best hunting ground."
Murmured; fingers accelerated.
Noodles arced dazzlingly into boiling clear soup—no splash.
"Sequence list—perfect stage to rise."
Killed flame, ebony chopsticks lifted noodles to celadon bowl.
Clear broth, distinct strands—simple yet soul-stirring aroma.
Not bone or seafood umami—deeper, desire-poking scent.
"Let you play a bit."
Toweled fingers elegantly.
"When you fight bloody, that Okabe thinks secure atop, savoring heights..."
Bowl to window.
Outside: vast campus lights; gaze pierced to darkness.
"I'll take everything!"
Sipped edge; silken noodles with scalding soup entered unbroken.
Last strand flew; soup unstained.
As if never there.
Tōtsuki night: noisy, vital.
Sequence shockwave spread fast; ambition, zeal, schemes bred wildly.
Freshmen geared; upperclassmen watched coldly; forces surged.
Instigator Senzaemon Nakiri atop Tōtsuki teahouse, oversaw sleepless "battlefield."
Moonlight on stern face; faint arc.
"Seeds sown."
Murmured: "Now, see what stunning fruits grow."
"Grow stronger than all, Erina!"
Night wind carried last words.
Tōtsuki gears spun anew with sequences.
All geared to claim spots, declare arrival.
____
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