With the priceless Yeti ingredients neatly stored in his lab's cryo-freezer, Jin Park began the second phase of Dean Elara's assignment: creating the dish. This was his true examination, a test of the culinary philosophy he had presented to her.
He didn't rush. He spent a full day with the door to his lab sealed, simply studying the main ingredient. He laid a prime cut of the Yeti loin on his steel counter. The meat was a pale, almost translucent white, marbled with faint blue lines that pulsed with a quiet, chilling energy.
His System Weaver talent allowed him to perceive the meat on a conceptual level. He could feel the chaotic, raw frost mana that saturated every fiber. Cooking it with direct heat would be a disaster; the mana would react violently, turning the meat into a tough, freezer-burnt brick. Neutralizing the cold was not enough. He had to harmonize with it.
He thought back to his past life. A memory surfaced of a notoriously difficult Japanese pufferfish, the fugu. Its deadly poison wasn't an obstacle to be destroyed, but a component to be respected and controlled, with its faint, tingling numbness being a prized part of the culinary experience.
It is the same principle, Muyeong thought, his eyes gleaming with insight. The frost is not a flaw. It is the core identity of the ingredient. I will not fight it. I will embrace it.
His plan formed. He would create a dish that was served cold. A dish that celebrated the Yeti's unique elemental nature.
He began by creating a new tool. He took a simple steel bowl and, using Material Synthesis, fused it with a portion of the leftover Frost Core from the Yeti. The mana drain was immense, but the result was a bowl that radiated an intense, natural cold.
[You have successfully created a 'Cryo-Serving Bowl' (Rare-grade item).]
> Description: A bowl that passively maintains a near-freezing temperature, perfectly preserving the integrity of cold dishes.
Next, he took the Yeti loin and, using his Gnasher cleaver, began to slice it with impossible thinness. His Chop skill, now at Level 10, guided his hands. The slices were almost transparent, like sheets of ice, their delicate structure perfectly preserved. He arranged these slices artfully in the bottom of the Cryo-Serving Bowl.
For the sauce, he didn't use heat at all. He took "Crystal-Vine Tomatoes," a Rare ingredient known for their crisp, clean acidity, and "Iron-Bark Salt," and crushed them together. He then added a single, crucial ingredient: a minuscule drop of "Dragon's Breath Pepper" extract, a Legendary-grade material from the vault. It wasn't enough to generate heat, but just enough to create a phantom sensation of warmth that would contrast with the dish's intense cold.
When he poured the sauce over the chilled meat, a quiet hiss filled the lab as the phantom heat met the profound cold, a perfect, paradoxical harmony.
He had created his masterpiece. As he put the finishing touches on the dish, a cascade of notifications confirmed his success.
[You have created 'Yeti's Sorrow Sashimi' (Unique-grade dish). Quality: Masterpiece.]
[Your revolutionary application of culinary theory has been recognized.]
[Skill: Cooking (Normal) has reached Lv. 5!]
[Due to the creation of a Masterpiece-quality dish using Unique-grade materials, you have gained a massive amount of experience.]
[You have leveled up!]
[You are now Lv. 9!]
[You have gained 5 unallocated stat points.]
Level 9. One more level, and he would unlock his next Job skill. He felt the familiar surge of power, but his focus was absolute. He calmly allocated his 5 new stat points, distributing them to bolster his Agility and Intelligence for better reflexes and mana control.
He placed the Cryo-Serving Bowl, with its contents shimmering like a frozen jewel, into a thermally insulated container and left his lab. He took the lift platform straight to the Spire's apex.
He arrived at Dean Elara's office and was granted immediate entry. She sat behind her obsidian desk, her expression as unreadable as ever.
"You are four days early, Mr. Park," she stated, her gaze falling on the container he carried.
"Inspiration took hold, Dean," Jin Park replied, placing the container on her desk.
He opened it. A wave of a clean, intensely cold, yet invigorating aroma filled the office. Elara's usually stoic eyes widened slightly as she looked at the dish. The paper-thin slices of meat, the vibrant red of the sauce, the frost clinging to the sides of the bowl—it was a work of art.
"Explain," she commanded.
"Yeti's Sorrow Sashimi," he said. "The Yeti's power is its cold. To fight it is to destroy the ingredient. I chose to embrace it. The meat is served raw, sliced thin to ensure tenderness. The Cryo-Serving Bowl maintains its temperature. The sauce provides a contrasting acidity and a phantom warmth from a micro-dose of Dragon's Breath extract, creating a paradox for the palate. It should enhance mental clarity and focus."
Elara stared at him, then at the dish. His explanation was not just about cooking; it was a profound statement of philosophy. To understand your opponent—or your ingredient—so completely that you can turn their greatest strength to your advantage.
She picked up the fork provided. She took a single, delicate slice of the meat. As she put it in her mouth, her eyes closed. The powerful, almost overwhelming aura of mana she constantly emitted flickered for a fraction of a second.
When she opened her eyes, the cold, analytical mask was gone. For the first time, Jin Park saw a flicker of genuine shock and astonishment on the face of the Archon of the Shield.
"Incredible," she breathed, the word barely a whisper. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever tasted. First, the piercing, clean cold of the meat, which sharpened her senses, followed by the crisp acidity of the sauce, and then, a surprising, phantom warmth that bloomed at the back of her throat, a ghost of a flame in a sea of ice.
She looked at Jin Park, her mind racing. This was not the work of a prodigy. This was the work of a monster. A monster who had completely and utterly mastered his craft to a degree she didn't think was possible.
"Mr. Park," she said, her voice regaining its composure, but with a new, dangerous undercurrent of interest. "You have passed my test. Your performance has exceeded all expectations."
She was looking at him now not just as a student, but as a priceless, strategic asset whose true potential was a terrifying, unknown quantity. The academy had not just found a diamond in the rough. They had found something else entirely.