Multiverse Gourmet Hunter

Nakiri Erina appeared at the entrance to the stage.

Her perfectly tailored uniform emphasized her graceful posture, while her eyes carried their usual pride and confidence.

The moment she stepped onto the platform, every student in the plaza turned to look at her.

A member of the faculty approached with an ornate school-year badge and solemnly pinned it to Erina’s chest.

The badge represented Totsuki’s recognition of its most outstanding student.

Only someone who had consistently ranked first throughout the Middle School Division, with culinary skills far beyond those of their peers, could receive such an honor.

The students below watched Erina with admiration and respect.

They had spent three years alongside her in the Middle School Division and witnessed her overwhelming culinary talent for themselves.

Not a single person questioned whether she deserved the award.

The ceremony ended quickly.

Erina gave the audience a slight nod, then turned and descended from the stage with effortless composure.

The announcer spoke again, this time with a noticeable trace of reverence in his voice.

"Next, please welcome the director of Totsuki Culinary Academy—Nakiri Senzaemon!"

The instant Senzaemon’s name rang across the plaza, every student straightened their back. Their expressions became serious, and even their breathing seemed to grow quieter.

Nakiri Senzaemon, known throughout the culinary world as the Demon King of Food, wielded enormous influence over the industry.

He also believed above all else in competition.

That philosophy alone was enough to make most Totsuki students fear him.

...

Before long, Senzaemon’s towering figure emerged onto the stage.

He wore a black robe, his face stern and his gaze razor-sharp. Simply standing there was enough to project such authority that the entire plaza fell into a solemn silence.

His eyes slowly swept across the students below, taking in the nervous excitement on their young faces.

He saw the same expressions every year.

After clearing his throat, Senzaemon spoke into the microphone, his deep and powerful voice reaching every corner of the plaza.

"Congratulations. You have successfully advanced to Totsuki’s High School Division."

"Over the past three years, you have built a strong foundation in the Middle School Division."

"You have mastered the basic techniques of cooking and familiarized yourselves with the characteristics of countless ingredients. Your practical experience needs no further explanation."

"At the same time, you have also received a thorough education in culinary theory."

"Cooking science, nutrition, public health, agricultural studies, restaurant management..."

"It is because you have learned all of these things that you are qualified to stand at the entrance to Totsuki’s High School Division today."

Haruto stood at the doorway of the waiting room and looked over the students gathered in the plaza.

He had to admit that Totsuki’s basic education was almost flawless.

During the three years of the Middle School Division, the academy taught everything from knife skills and heat control to ingredient properties, nutritional balance, and restaurant management.

It broke down nearly every fundamental skill required of a top chef and drilled them into each student.

Even those who failed to survive the brutal competition of the High School Division could still find respectable work in the culinary industry with the foundation they had built here.

Those who successfully graduated, however, would receive offers from renowned restaurants around the world and begin their careers from a position most chefs could only dream of.

...

"However, the trials you will face from this day forward..."

Senzaemon’s voice suddenly rose, carrying an authority that allowed no argument.

"Will not test your knowledge or technique."

"They will test whether you possess the resolve to survive as chefs!"

"Ninety-nine percent of you exist only as sacrifices to temper the remaining one percent!"

His words struck the students like a boulder crashing into still water.

Several first-years who had been struggling to remain calm went pale.

Many clenched their fists, the confidence in their eyes gradually fading.

They had entered Totsuki dreaming of becoming elite chefs. None of them wanted to be dismissed as nothing more than a sacrifice for someone else’s growth.

Yet every one of them knew that Totsuki had always been a place where the weak were discarded with almost merciless efficiency.

"Last year, eight hundred and twelve first-year students entered this division."

Senzaemon’s voice continued to echo across the plaza.

"Only seventy-six advanced to their second year!"

"The incompetent and the mediocre will be cast aside without hesitation!"

"A thousand students may begin the first year, but scarcely a hundred will remain by the time advancement is decided!"

"And how many will survive until graduation? You could probably count them on one hand!"

The numbers pressed down upon the plaza until the atmosphere became almost suffocating.

Then Senzaemon suddenly raised one powerful hand and pointed toward the crowd below.

"But you... you... and you!"

"Any one of you could become one of those final few!"

...

The crushing silence shattered at once.

The students who had lowered their heads seemed to come alive again. Their eyes brightened, the despair on their faces replaced by blazing determination.

That’s right.

Any one of them could become the rare talent who survived to the end.

Fists tightened throughout the crowd as excitement surged through their chests.

They stared at Senzaemon with renewed hunger, silently swearing that no matter how cruel the High School Division became, they would endure it and remain at Totsuki.

Haruto watched the scene from the waiting-room doorway, a faint smile touching his lips, though his eyes remained calm.

The students might be overflowing with determination now, but determination without ability rarely lasted.

Before long, Totsuki’s ruthless standards would grind down those who lacked talent, no matter how fiercely they tried to hold on.

Many people believed effort alone could close any gap.

They failed to understand that some distances could not be crossed through hard work alone.

Totsuki had never been interested in students who merely worked hard.

It sought the elite among the elite—those who possessed both talent and the determination to cultivate it.

Haruto himself was a perfect example.

In less than two months, his talent and effort had allowed his cooking to improve at a remarkable rate.

He had already surpassed most first-year students in the High School Division.

Lately, however, he had begun to notice that his progress was slowing.

That only made him more eager to discover how much further Totsuki could push him.

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