Chapter 70 – The Tragedy of Hanzō
"Turns out Hanzō isn't just a chatterbox—his nerves are thick as steel cables too."
Osren couldn't help sighing to himself.
From his angle, Menchi looked moments away from manifesting actual thunder and lightning behind her.
If she were a Conjurer, it might've become real.
Hanzō, however, had zero small-animal instincts—danger detection not found.
Menchi was practically demonizing, while Hanzō still stood with his back facing her, sulking over how his emotional outburst had just earned him a whole new list of enemies.
The sourness in his heart was nothing compared to the real sourness that was about to land on his head.
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"It's simple! This is basic cooking! How could something like this taste any different?!"
Menchi's voice was cold enough to freeze bone, each word squeezed out like she was grinding her teeth into powder.
Only then did Hanzō feel something was… off.
He turned around—
—and saw Menchi standing right behind him, face dark as a soot-covered kettle, practically steaming with fury.
Before he could even react, she grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him into the air like a misbehaving puppy.
"You little punk! To make proper nigiri sushi, even a professional chef needs ten years of training! Do you understand?!
The previous examinee took slices from a moving fish without damaging the flesh, maintained freshness, balanced the rice and sauce—"
Naturally, "the previous examinee" she meant was Osren.
At Menchi's words, many examinees glanced in Osren's direction.
Up until now, they had all assumed his stunt with the spinning fish was just for show.
Some even thought he was acting high-profile and doomed to die early, metaphorically.
They never imagined the real purpose was to make the fish meat firmer and tighter.
"You amateurs can only imitate the shape at best! The taste is worlds apart from a true chef's! IDIOTS!"
She hissed, eyes blazing.
Hanzō, however, was not done:
"If that's the case, then don't give us such a stupid exam question!
His sushi passed just because the shape was similar to mine, but mine fails? Unacceptable!"
Menchi's eyebrow twitched. Bad sign.
"Stop whining. If you complain one more time, I'll butcher you right here—"
Her killing intent shot out like a blade, and she continued scolding him relentlessly.
"I knew it… Menchi's bad habit is acting up again.
Once she gets excited, her standards go through the roof.
Honestly, chefs who can satisfy her… you could probably count them on one hand worldwide."
Buhara rubbed his bloated stomach helplessly.
Menchi in serious-chef mode was a force of nature—very few could stop her if she really got going.
"Where is your heart? Where is your passion?!"
Menchi shook Hanzō while chanting like a high-level monk.
He looked seconds away from passing out.
Osren winced.
"Menchi-san, the exam is still ongoing. There are many examinees waiting for their tasting turn.
I think he already understands that cooking requires sincerity.
Your teaching has definitely made an impact."
If Menchi didn't calm down, Osren was already considering using his Face Fruit abilities.
At this rate, only Chairman Netero could neutralize her—otherwise they would just have to wait until she cooled off naturally… in an hour or two… maybe.
"…Hm?"
Menchi, who had been ready to quote entire culinary scriptures at Hanzō, was abruptly interrupted.
Naturally, she wasn't pleased.
She turned her sharp gaze toward Osren.
When she turned and saw Osren standing there with complete sincerity—and Buhara looking genuinely worried—she finally realized she had… overreacted.
Again.
Forcing down the flames on her face, she reluctantly released Hanzō.
"Go back and remake it."
She tossed the words out flatly, then nodded at Osren and returned to her sofa, signaling that the next examinees could step forward.
Osren let out a quiet breath of relief.
Great—his Face Fruit ability could now be saved for a real emergency.
Using it on Hanzō here would have been a complete waste.
Good steel belonged on the blade—not the handle.
"Cooking requires sincerity," Hanzō muttered, dazed from Menchi's extended "brainwashing session."
He returned to his station like a kicked puppy, head drooping, ready to redo everything from scratch.
"Honestly… yelling that loudly made me even hungrier…"
Menchi slumped lazily back on the sofa. She couldn't actually slaughter an examinee, so she had to settle for verbal punishment—all very exhausting.
She hadn't eaten anything since morning.
Right now, she felt like she could demolish an entire roast Hog-Brow boar herself.
"Next challenger, hurry up!"
"I'm coming!" Gon responded immediately, stepping forward with his tray.
Behind him came a flood of examinees. Now that Hanzō's outburst had revealed the correct method, everyone knew how to make sushi.
The number of finished dishes had more than tripled.
"All because of that bald blabbermouth… Now everyone knows how to make sushi.
Fine. If that's the case, I'll judge by taste alone."
Menchi's irritation toward Hanzō had only grown—now she was mad at him for creating extra work.
"Please try it!" Gon lifted his lid, revealing a perfect-looking piece of nigiri.
"Alright, let me see."
Menchi's expression eased slightly. As Osren's teammate, Gon knowing the proper method wasn't surprising—but she wouldn't lower her standards.
Chomp.
"No good. You squeezed the sushi too tightly. The rice became hard—bad texture."
Buhara peeked over her shoulder and protested,
"Menchi, isn't that a bit too harsh—"
"Buhara, SHUT UP!"
Menchi snapped before he could finish.
Her earlier anger at Hanzō was still simmering, and now her standards were even stricter than usual.
"Rice shape is poor—redo it."
"Knife work is unqualified—redo."
"Your forming speed is too slow. The sushi got warm—redo."
"This one no."
"That one also redo."
"Not acceptable. Redo it."
"No. NO. NOOOOOOO!."
She wasn't flipping trays anymore—but every dish went into her mouth, only to receive the same verdict:
One after another.
Osren sighed inwardly.
This was exactly like the original timeline—meaning a supplemental test was inevitable.
He didn't bother intervening.
He had already prepared for the retest anyway.
Sure enough, after tasting almost every examinee's sushi, Menchi finally sat back, picked up a cup of tea, and took a slow sip.
Tap.
She set the cup down, stretched slightly, and leaned into a more comfortable position on the sofa.
"Sorry everyone," she said lazily, "I'm full."
The examinees froze, trays still in hand.
"What… what does that mean?"
Hanzō, who had finally finished redoing his own sushi, looked utterly confused.
"It means—exactly as I expected."
Menchi smiled sweetly, waving her hand like a queen dismissing servants.
"Only one person passed.
The rest of you—better luck next time."
Only Osren… passed.