Multiverse Gourmet Hunter

Haruto ordered more than a dozen classic Cantonese dishes in one go, each one the kind that demanded solid fundamentals from the chef.

The server’s eyes widened as he listened and could not help giving Haruto a hesitant reminder.

"Sir... are you dining alone? I’m afraid that might be more food than one person can finish."

Haruto waved the concern away.

"Don’t worry about it. Just bring everything out. I have a big appetite."

With his Gourmet Cells, this much food barely counted as a warm-up.

More importantly, these dishes would give him a fairly accurate idea of Xu Hui’s skill and show him exactly what this locally renowned chef was capable of.

It did not take long before the dishes began arriving one after another, eventually covering the entire table.

Every plate looked excellent, with color, aroma, and presentation all handled beautifully.

Haruto started with a piece of white-cut chicken.

The skin had a translucent, honeyed yellow color reminiscent of amber, gleaming softly beneath the light. When he pressed it gently with his chopsticks, it yielded with just the right amount of elasticity before springing back.

Beneath the skin was a thin layer of semi-transparent chicken aspic, clear and glossy like crystal.

Haruto dipped the piece lightly into finely minced ginger and scallion before placing it in his mouth.

The gelatin melted first, releasing the mellow richness of chicken fat without the slightest greasiness.

Then came the meat.

With only a little chewing, its juices spread across his tongue, carrying the clean natural sweetness of chicken.

Haruto chewed twice more, and his expression shifted slightly.

’Just a little off.’

The poaching water had been slightly too hot, and the chicken had remained in it for a few seconds too long.

That tiny difference had caused the muscle fibers to tighten ever so slightly.

The meat was still excellent, but it had lost that final degree of tenderness—the kind where the flesh nearly slipped from the bone and melted in the mouth—leaving behind an almost imperceptible firmness instead.

Next came the braised squab.

It arrived still sizzling faintly with hot oil, its skin roasted to an even caramel-red sheen as though coated in a translucent glaze.

Haruto lightly split the surface with his chopsticks.

The crisp skin broke apart, and rich juices immediately ran from the cut, carrying the distinctive savoriness of young pigeon along with the layered aroma of star anise, cinnamon, and bay leaf from the marinade.

He took a bite.

The skin shattered crisply between his teeth, filling his mouth with roasted fat without becoming greasy in the slightest. The meat underneath was extraordinarily tender and juicy, almost soft enough to release liquid under the slightest pressure.

Even so, Haruto noticed several flaws.

The marinade contained just a touch too much salt, suppressing some of the squab’s natural sweetness.

The oil temperature during the first fry had been slightly low, while the second fry had lasted perhaps two seconds too long. As a result, the skin did not maintain its crispness quite long enough and softened faintly after entering the mouth.

The breast portion also showed uneven heat control. The exterior had browned a little too far, yet the inside retained the slightest trace of gaminess that should have been removed.

Haruto moved on to another classic test of Cantonese technique.

Dry-fried beef ho fun.

Each strand of glossy white rice noodle was evenly coated in sauce without clumping or breaking. Tender red slices of beef carried lightly charred edges, while bright yellow chives and crisp white bean sprouts were scattered throughout.

Haruto leaned closer and inhaled.

The unmistakable aroma of wok hei immediately rushed into his nose.

The toasted fragrance of soy sauce, the savoriness of beef, the clean rice aroma of the noodles, and the fresh sweetness of the vegetables had blended together beautifully.

The smell alone was enough to sharpen the appetite.

Haruto picked up a mouthful.

The rice noodles were smooth and pleasantly chewy, without sticking to his teeth or carrying any raw starchiness. The beef was almost as tender as tofu yet retained just the right amount of charred aroma, while the bean sprouts and chives remained crisp and refreshing, neatly cutting through the richness.

The dish was genuinely good.

But perhaps because the kitchen was rushing through such a large order, the heat had fallen just short.

The seasoning had not fully penetrated the center of the noodles.

The outside was savory while the inside remained noticeably lighter, missing the final sense of complete unity that separated a very good plate from an exceptional one.

Next came night-blooming cereus pork soup.

The broth was a clear amber without a trace of excess oil floating on the surface.

Haruto took a sip.

The gentle sweetness of the flower came first, followed by the mellow richness of pork bones and the lingering sweetness of candied dates.

The soup was rich without being heavy, light without tasting thin.

The flavor from the marrow had been thoroughly extracted, while the night-blooming cereus had been simmered until tender enough to melt in the mouth.

That alone revealed excellent skill with slow-cooked soups.

Haruto nodded.

This dish was genuinely impressive.

He continued working through the table one dish at a time.

Eventually, every plate was empty.

He even finished the crisp rice crust from the bottom of the clay pot.

The surrounding diners stared at him in disbelief.

By then, Haruto had also gained a thorough understanding of Xu Hui’s abilities.

Chef Xu was indeed a highly competent Cantonese chef with excellent fundamentals, easily among the best in the local area.

As for the tiny flaws Haruto had found in each dish, those were perfectly understandable.

No chef could prepare this many different dishes at once and execute every single one at absolute perfection.

Besides, some of them had most likely been handled by the kitchen staff rather than Xu Hui personally.

Haruto set down his chopsticks and called over the server.

"Could you ask your head chef to come out for a moment? I have a few questions about the food that I’d like to discuss with him personally."

The server looked troubled.

But Haruto had been calm and polite from beginning to end, and he had just finished an entire table of food without causing any trouble. He did not seem like someone looking for an excuse to make a scene.

In the end, the server reluctantly nodded and headed toward the kitchen.

The nearby diners immediately became interested.

Several turned in their seats and began whispering.

"Who is that young man? He ate an entire table and now he wants to see the head chef?"

"Is he here to cause trouble? Chef Xu’s been cooking around here for more than twenty years. Nobody comes into his restaurant and starts picking faults with his food."

"He looks so young. How much could he possibly know about cooking?"

Before long, a middle-aged man followed the server out of the kitchen.

He appeared to be around forty and wore a white chef’s uniform with the sleeves rolled high above his elbows, revealing strong, darkened forearms.

His hands bore the permanent stains of someone who had spent decades working over stoves and sauces.

There was nothing elegant or delicate about him. He carried the unmistakable presence of a man who had spent most of his life in a busy kitchen, and his eyes were sharp as knives.

This was Xu Ji Restaurant’s head chef.

Xu Hui.

He stopped beside Haruto’s table and looked him over, his tone neither warm nor openly hostile.

"I’m Xu Hui, the head chef here. You wanted to see me?"

"Was there something about the food you weren’t satisfied with?"

"My name is Suzuki Haruto. I’m a chef as well."

Haruto stood and introduced himself before continuing seriously.

"After tasting your food, I found myself wanting to test my skills against yours."

"So I’d like to challenge you to a cooking match."

Xu Hui immediately frowned.

He looked Haruto up and down.

The young man still had the unmistakable air of someone barely out of adolescence.

Even if he had started learning to cook as a child, how much experience could he possibly have accumulated?

Xu Hui had encountered young chefs like this before.

They were rare, but not unheard of.

Some came hoping to borrow his reputation.

Others wanted to create a spectacle by challenging a famous local chef.

There was no benefit in accepting.

If Xu Hui won, people would say he had bullied a younger chef.

If he lost, years of hard-earned reputation would take a hit.

So he shook his head immediately.

"Sorry. I’m not interested in that sort of thing."

"The kitchen is still busy. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going back."

Haruto showed no surprise at the refusal and did not become angry.

Instead, he spoke calmly.

"For your white-cut chicken, you used a Qingyuan partridge chicken around one hundred and twenty days old. Your three-lift, three-dip poaching technique was textbook, but the water temperature was slightly high and the chicken stayed in a few seconds too long."

"That cost the meat its final degree of tenderness."

Xu Hui stopped.

Haruto continued.

"For the braised squab, you used Shiqi squab. The marinade was well balanced, but the first frying temperature was too low and the second fry lasted slightly too long. The skin lost some of its crispness, and the gaminess wasn’t completely removed from the breast—"

With every sentence, Xu Hui’s expression grew darker.

The reason was simple.

He already knew about most of those imperfections himself.

He had merely considered them minor enough that they were not worth worrying about during a busy service.

But the fact that Haruto could identify them so precisely after tasting the dishes only once meant his culinary ability could not possibly be poor.

Only someone with considerable skill could detect details that subtle.

The surrounding diners gradually fell silent.

Everyone stared at Haruto with wide eyes.

Many of them had eaten at Xu Ji Restaurant for more than a decade and had always thought the food was about as good as it could possibly get.

They had never heard anyone point out flaws like these before.

Yet one look at Xu Hui’s face made it obvious that Haruto was not making things up.

Xu Hui’s breathing grew heavier.

The impatience from moments ago had completely vanished, replaced by a deep seriousness.

He was just about to speak when Haruto raised one hand.

A piece of meat appeared in his palm, roughly the size of his hand.

The instant it appeared, the entire restaurant seemed to fall still.

The flesh was almost translucent, like an exquisite gemstone, its natural grain resembling the facets of polished crystal as it reflected a soft, warm sheen.

Snowflake-like streaks of fat were distributed throughout with near-perfect uniformity, each one resembling fine white crystal.

Then the aroma reached everyone.

An indescribably rich fragrance of meat spread through the restaurant like a rising tide.

It carried none of the heavy, greasy smell of ordinary raw meat.

Instead, it was clean, subtly sweet, mellow, and intensely savory, so enticing that everyone’s stomach seemed to clench in response.

Every diner and server froze.

Even several kitchen apprentices who had come out to see what was happening began swallowing uncontrollably.

Their eyes remained fixed on the meat in Haruto’s hand.

For several seconds, some of them even forgot to breathe.

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