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Azami Nakiri picked up his chopsticks, gently separating the noodles and sniffing the aroma. From its color and scent, this ramen clearly demonstrated a strong foundation. It wasn't some fast-food product churned out by a roadside ramen shop; it possessed genuine technical skill.
He lifted some noodles, slowly placed them in his mouth, and began to chew. His stomach, already somewhat empty from the forced wait, was instantly filled with an indescribable sense of satisfaction. He'd expected a ramen dish praised by the God's Tongue to be goodāafter all, the God's Tongue was a benchmark in the culinary world, and anything it deemed delicious was certainly no ordinary fare.
However, Azami, confident in his years of culinary experience and judgment, had anticipated this ramen would at most satisfy his taste. He never imagined the reaction it would provoke would be so intense. His entire tongue was signaling "delicious."
But, he thought, this kind of easily replicable dish would surely become tiresome after a few days. While Azami found the ramen good, he wouldn't admit that such a "fast-food" dish held significant importance in his culinary philosophy.
"Finished?" Renz asked, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Renz had, at some point, moved to Azami's side. He didn't ask if the ramen was tasty, because after spending so much time with the haughty Erina, he knew some arrogant people would vehemently deny enjoying even the most exquisite dishes. In such moments, the most undeniable evidence was an empty bowl.
Azami might have internally refused to acknowledge the ramen's quality, but the evidence was undeniable: he had emptied the bowl. And with Renz's question, a slight frown creased his brow.
"I believe I heard you mention something about a collaboration earlier?" Renz's smile held a dangerous, direct gaze.
The conversation... had been taken over by the other party. Was he being controlled? Azami suddenly realized the cold shoulder he'd received when he first asked about a collaboration. This was Renz's way of putting him in his place, an opening gambit. When Azami had asked about the collaboration earlier, he was the client, Renz the vendor, allowing Azami to control the entire conversation. But now, after being left to stew and then finishing the meal, Renz's simple "Finished?" completely shifted the dynamic.
To put it plainly: before, Azami, having not tasted the dish, viewed Renz's cooking as something he could assess and potentially exploit. Now, by emptying the bowl, Azami had implicitly acknowledged Renz's value, putting himself at a disadvantage in any subsequent discussions.
Now, if Renz brought up the collaboration, even as the client, Azami wouldn't have the upper hand. This young man, despite his age, was incredibly shrewd.
As a businessman, Azami knew he needed to regain control of the conversation. "I do have some ideas for collaboration, which is why I came to observe," Azami said calmly. His plan was that if Renz asked, "How was what you observed?" he would offer some critique, point out flaws to devalue Renz, and then propose his ideas. That way, he'd regain control of the narrative.
"My time is valuable. Just get straight to the point," Renz replied, completely bypassing Azami's linguistic trap.
Repeatedly outmaneuvered, Azami found this young restaurant owner far more troublesome than expected. He himself couldn't find the words. His momentum and presence were completely suppressed.
What a joke.
"You're still a student, aren't you? I plan to open a culinary academy. Join my academy, become my student, and I'll also provide a sponsorship to help you better run this restaurant," Azami said, finally composed enough to lay out his cards. As long as Renz became his student, Azami would forever hold the upper hand in their interactions. And though Renz was skilled in negotiation, his fundamental problem was "poverty."
"Then why wouldn't I go to Totsuki Academy?" Renz retorted. "Totsuki Academy, I believe, also offers scholarships to aid struggling students with their restaurants."
What was originally a single rivalry had, with Renz's words, implicitly drawn in another party. This would transform the situation into two institutions vying for one person, with Renz comfortably in control.
What a confident person.
"Poverty" can be a devastating disadvantage at the negotiating table, but one's abilities can completely reverse that disadvantage. However, this required both academies to actively compete for one talent. But based solely on this ramen dish, it wasn't enough to warrant such a bidding war. Azami, having been repeatedly outmaneuvered, could tell that Renz was either trying to extract more benefits for himself or had no intention of joining his academy at all.
Azami sneered. He knew that when he established his new academy, over half of the current Totsuki Elite Ten would join him. His apparent humility was merely a ploy to attract more common chefs to create value for him. But that didn't mean he absolutely needed Renz.
"The Totsuki Academy you yearn for will eventually become nothing more than a historical relic," Azami said, standing up. His words indicated his unwillingness to continue the discussion; the negotiation had ended unpleasantly. Although poaching the Totsuki Elite Ten wouldn't cripple Totsuki Academyāit was merely a generation of students leaving, causing only short-term reputational damageāAzami was confident that, under his management, his new academy would gradually squeeze Totsuki out of existence.
A century-old institution, under the relentless assault of a new power, would crumble. Within a decade, Azami was certain that students trained under his philosophy would defeat Totsuki students in various culinary competitions and assessments, making Totsuki's demise inevitable.
What an arrogant man, Renz thought, judging his father-in-law.
However, Renz had never aspired to Totsuki Academy or his father-in-law's proposed academy. He hadn't even spent a day as a student at Totsuki, yet he had directly become its director for ten years. In Renz's eyes, the potential culinary wars between the two academies were meaningless. If he favored either side, the outcome would be a foregone conclusion.
Because, frankly, the strongest individuals in these culinary wars would likely be eliminated in the first round of the World Championship. Competing against them in cooking, to be honest, would somewhat diminish Renz's standing. With a little practice, Renz could crush these people with his theoretical knowledge alone. His true opponents, in theory, should be the top ten master chefs in the world.
But having gleaned some information from Erina, as her husband, Renz felt compelled to support her position. If any of the rebellious Totsuki Elite Ten dared to challenge him, Renz would lower himself and defeat them all in individual shokugeki.
Still, Renz was quite displeased with his father-in-law's self-important tone as he prepared to leave.
"The pinnacle of the culinary world is nothing more than satisfying the God's Tongue."
"Instead of wasting your time, why don't you focus on making every dish you create appeal to everyone, including the God's Tongue?"
Azami Nakiri's face turned ashen as he stood. That sentence truly broke him.
With those words, Azami stumbled out of the restaurant, utterly disoriented. He had intended to deliver a harsh warning, yet Renz's seemingly accidental words left him shaken to his core.
Had he come here just to suffer? Why had he come here at all? Azami began to doubt himself. His life's greatest aspiration was to create a dish that could satisfy the God's Tongue. He had even subjected his own daughter, Erina, to intense training for her God's Tongue in pursuit of this goal, but to no avail. It was precisely his inability to achieve this that led him to conceive of reforming the culinary world.
Renz's words pierced him like a sharp sword.
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