The small street-side diner called Yukihira Diner was bustling with energy.
Even from outside, the noise was obvious, but stepping inside still came as a surprise.
The place was packed. Customers stood on tiptoe, craning their necks to see what was happening inside. Faces were flushed with excitement, fists clenched, cheers echoing through the room.
"There's way too many people here. Are they holding some kind of contest?"
Lin Zhi looked at the crowd in astonishment.
He rose on his toes to peek over the heads in front, but still couldn't see past them. Not that he was short—he was actually fairly tall for his age—but everyone else was doing the same, forming an impenetrable wall of bodies.
Seriously?! Can't you people just sit down? Do you all have a death wish, craning your necks like that?!
Pushing forward and squeezing through with some nimble sidesteps, Lin Zhi finally found a decent viewing angle.
When his gaze pierced through the wall of spectators, he saw what was happening up front.
Oil sizzled in a pan, aromas filled the air, and cheers rang out from the crowd.
A cooking competition?
"What's going on in there?"
Gabriel tried to stand on tiptoe to see, but given her height, it was a losing battle.
Her cheeks puffed up slightly in frustration.
Is she… pouting?
Hey, wait—aren't you supposed to be an angel?
Lin Zhi turned toward her, a little dumbfounded. How could an angel look this… adorable?
Shouldn't she have some kind of heavenly powers—clairvoyance, telepathy, divine insight?
Wait, telepathy?
Cough. Maybe not. If she can read minds, I'm doomed. She probably heard all that.
Still…
From this angle, she really was kind of cute. Maybe angels were just naturally this endearing.
"They seem to be having a cooking competition," Lin Zhi explained when Gabriel couldn't see anything, glancing at her with mild pity for her tragic height.
"A cooking competition? Sugoi!"
Whether or not she knew what that meant, the match seemed to have just ended. The audience erupted in cheers, looking eager for more.
Lin Zhi and Gabriel both caught a familiar yet unique aroma—a blend of rice and egg.
Fried rice?
It smelled like fried rice, but there was something special about it, something that set it apart.
The crowd grew more animated, pushing and shouting like a pack of hungry beasts—true gluttons, driven mad by good food.
"Boss, pick me! I've been your loyal customer for years!"
"Jōichirō, I come here every week! Don't forget me this time!"
"I haven't been a judge in over a month—come on, give me a turn!"
"The hell you haven't! You were picked last week!"
"And you weren't? You were the judge the week before that!"
"I told you that doesn't count!"
"Yeah, right!"
The exchange drew laughter all around. From the energy alone, it was clear how skilled—and beloved—the chef must be.
At the front, Jōichirō Yukihira smiled warmly at the crowd, picking out a few people from among the eager volunteers.
Beside him stood a red-haired teenager, arms crossed, taking a deep breath.
After selecting three judges, Jōichirō's gaze swept across the room—then paused. His eyes locked on someone at the edge of the crowd. A small smile tugged at his lips.
"You there, the young man—want to give it a try?"
Whoosh!
Every head turned toward where Jōichirō was pointing—straight at Lin Zhi… and Gabriel.
Jōichirō raised an eyebrow. "Oh? A new face—and a young lady, too."
"Newcomers?"
"First time here, huh? Lucky guy. Getting picked your first visit? The boss's food is top-notch!"
"True, but Sōma's cooking isn't bad either."
"Sure—but he's lost over four hundred times already, hasn't he? Hahaha!"
The crowd burst into laughter.
Sōma Yukihira gritted his teeth and raised his fist in frustration, glaring at the jeering customers. "This time—I'm winning!"
Jōichirō smiled at his son but said nothing. Chewing on a toothpick, he turned to Lin Zhi with a friendly grin.
"Well then, young man, how about it?"
Then his gaze shifted to Gabriel.
"You too, miss. Consider it a special welcome for new guests."
Gabriel nodded eagerly.
Lin Zhi, intrigued, didn't object. He followed Gabriel and the other chosen judges to the front.
"Judge's table," they called it—but really, it was just the front dining table.
As Lin Zhi glanced around, he couldn't help but smile. He hadn't expected to run into something this interesting so soon after moving here.
A cooking duel!
It almost felt like something straight out of a shonen manga—hot-blooded and full of energy.
Once the judges were seated, Jōichirō and Sōma divided their dishes into portions and placed them before the panel.
Lin Zhi looked at the plates in front of him and couldn't help but smile knowingly.
Golden grains of rice glistened with oil, speckled with bits of egg—classic fried rice.
A timeless dish for cooking duels. The simpler the recipe, the more it revealed a chef's true skill.
The aroma wafted through the packed diner, undiminished by the crowd. Instead, it lingered, enveloping every nose and teasing every appetite.
"Smells amazing!"
"Yeah, food always tastes better during a competition somehow!"
"What a pity I can't taste it myself!"
The other three judges, clearly regulars, stared at the dishes before them with hungry eyes, practically drooling.
"What a strange dish…"
Beside him, Gabriel murmured softly, drawing Lin Zhi's attention—and Jōichirō's as well.
A glint of curiosity flashed in Jōichirō's eyes as he studied the angelic girl.
Sōma placed the final plates before the judges—golden, glossy fried rice that shimmered under the lights.
"Everyone, please enjoy!"
Jōichirō said with a smile.
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T/N:
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