Multiverse Gourmet Hunter

The Hillside Area at night felt completely different from the daytime.

Warm yellow lights stretched along the paths between the trees, while the rich aromas of countless dishes drifted through the air, giving the entire area an elegant, inviting atmosphere.

Haruto did not linger at any of the restaurants along the way. He headed straight for Tsukasa Eishi’s temporary restaurant.

The establishment followed a simple, minimalist style. There was little in the way of elaborate decoration, yet every detail had been arranged with exquisite care.

The server at the entrance immediately bowed when he saw Haruto, wearing a perfectly professional smile.

"Welcome, Haruto-san."

"Tonight’s theme is Echoes of Autumn Ingredients. The course consists of eight dishes. Please allow me to show you inside."

Haruto followed the server down a corridor and into the dining room.

Tsukasa stood behind an open kitchen, preparing each course where the diners could watch him work.

Not long after Haruto took his seat, the dishes began arriving.

There was no denying it.

As the First Seat of the Elite Ten, Tsukasa’s cooking genuinely deserved to be called perfect.

The first course was autumn salmon sashimi, using only the richest section of belly meat, accompanied by freshly grated wasabi and the lightest touch of kombu soy sauce.

The instant it entered Haruto’s mouth, the salmon’s natural sweetness blossomed across his tongue. Its fat was smooth and creamy like melted butter, without the slightest trace of fishiness.

The second course was chestnut potage, made with autumn chestnuts and just enough clear chicken stock to support their flavor. It was dense and silky, with a pure natural sweetness. There was almost no unnecessary seasoning, yet the chestnuts themselves had been pushed to the absolute limit of what they could offer.

The third dish paired matsutake mushrooms with chicken breast and a small amount of kombu. The moment the lid was lifted, an intense wave of savory fragrance rushed out.

Every course followed the same philosophy.

The natural flavor of the ingredients had been extracted and refined to its utmost limit. The technique was flawless, the balance immaculate, yet Haruto could barely sense the chef behind the food at all.

It felt almost as though these dishes had always been meant to taste this way, and Tsukasa had merely served as a guide, bringing each ingredient to the best possible state and placing it before the diner.

Haruto continued eating slowly, gradually understanding the strange feeling the cuisine gave him.

It was undeniably delicious.

In terms of pure flavor, it approached perfection. Even his Gourmet Cells stirred faintly with excitement.

And yet, within that perfection, something seemed absent.

There was little sense of the emotion Tsukasa himself wanted to convey through the food.

A certain personal touch was missing.

It reminded Haruto of a technically flawless realist painting, every line and detail rendered with absolute precision, yet revealing nothing of the artist behind it.

The body was perfect.

The soul that moved the viewer was harder to find.

Even so, the dinner was more than worth the visit.

...

Over the next three days, Haruto thoroughly explored the entire Moon Festival.

More than a hundred shops and stalls participated, and he did not miss a single one.

By the time the festival ended, he had tasted food from every participating restaurant.

There was only one thing he had expected that never happened.

Nakiri Azami never appeared.

Apparently, Haruto taking one of the Elite Ten seats had disrupted Azami’s original plan to seize control of Totsuki.

Still, Haruto doubted Azami would simply give up.

As long as the man did not drag him into it, however, Haruto had no intention of going out of his way to interfere.

Political struggles within Totsuki, control over the academy, even the Elite Ten seats themselves—all of that mattered far less to Haruto than discovering new ingredients and creating delicious food.

That said, he did not particularly want to see Totsuki descend into chaos either.

Once the Moon Festival ended, Haruto’s life returned to its usual peaceful rhythm.

He attended classes, experimented with new dishes, and dealt with the occasional responsibilities that came with being an Elite Ten member.

The days passed comfortably.

About a month went by.

Autumn deepened, and the plane trees outside the windows gradually turned shades of gold and crimson.

Then, on one of his days off, Haruto returned home and found that the World Gate had appeared again.

Beyond it waited another completely unknown world.

Unknown ingredients.

Unknown dishes.

The anticipation in Haruto’s eyes immediately returned.

Without hesitation, he walked through.

The next instant, his feet landed on a damp stone-paved street.

A warm, humid breeze washed over him, carrying all the smells of a bustling city—the herbal fragrance drifting from a nearby cooling-tea stall, the savory aroma of cured meats hanging outside shops, and the scents of cooking from restaurants farther down the street.

Haruto looked around.

Rows of traditional buildings stretched before him, with gray-brick walls, dark tiled roofs, and distinctive wok-handle-shaped gables rising above the street. Old wooden lattice doors had been polished smooth by years of use, while elaborate plaster reliefs and brick carvings decorated the lintels.

Cloth signs swayed gently outside the shops.

Freshly Cooked Congee.

Slow-Simmered Soup.

Shiqi Roast Pigeon.

Vendors shouted for customers while laughter and conversation spilled from tea houses, creating the impression of an old city brought vividly to life.

"Looks like architecture from somewhere around the Ming or Qing period."

Haruto rubbed his chin, a slight frown forming.

He had already traveled through several worlds, and almost every one of them had offered some kind of extraordinary ingredient.

But if this was simply historical China, then the most he could probably expect to find were ordinary chickens, ducks, fish, and pork.

That was not particularly exciting.

Still, Haruto did not jump to conclusions.

He stepped into a roadside tea stall, ordered a bowl of chilled water-chestnut dessert, and casually began chatting with the elderly owner and a few customers at the next table.

Within half an hour, Haruto had established that he was somewhere in the Lingnan region of China.

Strangely, when he asked what era it was, the reign title they gave him was one he had never heard of.

Then someone nearby mentioned Super Chefs.

Haruto froze for the briefest moment.

Super Chef?

Those words suddenly unlocked one of the strongest memories from his childhood.

Without showing anything on his face, Haruto continued listening.

Two casually dressed men at the next table were enthusiastically discussing the legendary skill of Master Zhou Yu from Yangquan Restaurant in Guangzhou.

They talked about how spectacular the dishes had been during the last Guangzhou Dumpling Contest and how eagerly they were looking forward to this year’s competition.

Then the conversation moved on to the Super Chef Examination, held once every four years. The next examination would take place in Guangzhou after the New Year, and renowned chefs from across Lingnan were already scrambling for the opportunity to enter.

No one knew how many would ultimately pass.

A smile slowly appeared on Haruto’s face.

"So this is the world of Cooking Master Boy."

This world might not possess fantastic ingredients.

But it had something else.

Its greatest chefs had pushed culinary technique, heat control, and their understanding of ingredients to extraordinary heights.

Haruto had traveled through several worlds and accumulated an enormous collection of rare ingredients, but even he could not claim to draw out one hundred percent of every ingredient’s potential.

There was a great deal he could learn from the chefs of this world.

Haruto continued asking casual questions, eventually steering the conversation toward whether anyone had heard of a young chef named Liu Maoxing.

Everyone shook their heads.

None of them recognized the name, nor had they heard anything about a so-called youngest Super Chef in history.

That gave Haruto a good idea of the current point in the timeline.

The once-every-four-years Super Chef Examination had yet to begin.

Liu Maoxing had probably only recently arrived in Guangzhou.

Haruto initially planned to leave for Guangzhou immediately and visit Yangquan Restaurant.

After all, how could he come to the world of Cooking Master Boy without meeting Liu Maoxing?

He very much wanted to personally taste Mao’s Golden Fried Rice and his Magical Mapo Tofu, with its six flavors united into one.

But before long, Haruto changed his mind.

He decided to postpone the trip to Guangzhou.

There was one simple reason.

The title of Super Chef, along with that distinctive red-and-white uniform, had caught his interest.

Since he was already here and the timing happened to be perfect, there was no reason not to give the examination a try.

Of course, the Super Chef Examination was not open to just anyone.

Applicants needed proper qualifications.

They either had to be recommended by a renowned restaurant, introduced by a high-ranking government official, or possess enough genuine accomplishments in the culinary world to have already established a significant reputation.

Haruto considered the problem for a while before arriving at a simple solution.

If he wanted to build a reputation quickly, the most straightforward method was to challenge people.

He would challenge the head chefs of famous restaurants and defeat them through cooking.

Once his name had spread throughout Lingnan, qualifying for the Super Chef Examination would naturally cease to be a problem.

With his goal decided, Haruto immediately got moving.

After asking around, he soon learned about the most famous local establishment.

Xu Ji Restaurant.

It had been operating for more than twenty years, and its head chef, Xu Hui, was widely regarded as a master of Cantonese cuisine. His braised abalone and white-cut chicken were particularly famous, earning him recognition as one of the best chefs in the area.

Haruto soon arrived outside the restaurant.

He looked up at the four gilded characters carved into the heavy wooden signboard.

Large tanks beside the entrance held lively groupers, prawns, and plump abalones. Beneath the eaves hung glossy roast geese and strips of char siu, their lacquered surfaces gleaming with oil.

Just from the aroma, Haruto could tell this restaurant knew what it was doing.

He stepped inside, chose a seat by the window, glanced over the hanging menu, and started ordering.

"White-cut chicken, braised squab, dry-fried beef ho fun, night-blooming cereus pork soup, honey-glazed char siu, crispy roast goose, soy-sauce chicken feet, Shunde-style raw fish, clay-pot rice with preserved meats..."

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