Chapter 82.
As the bamboo steamers were opened again, the mesmerizing spectacle of the rising dragons repeated itself. The moment the first guest in line took a bite, the same stunned paralysis swept through the crowd. The explosive umami of the shrimp struck them like a physical blow, locking them in place.
Standing at the edge of the mob, Chef Sekimori watched with undeniable envy. He wanted to join the line, but as an alumni judge, he had to maintain his professional dignity. The near-riot from earlier was still fresh in everyone's minds; Dojima Gin and the others wouldn't dare compete with the guests for portions now, no matter how desperately they craved a taste.
Behind the counter, Shijun's workflow was relentless.
A hundred dumplings vanished the second they were plated. He had to keep the steamers rotating continuously. Totsuki Resort had only provided ten bamboo steamers per station, yet his goal was a thousand servings. At five minutes a batch, an hour was just barely enough time.
Originally, Dojima and the alumni had calculated the guest ratio perfectly. Because there was no limit on portion sizes, the plan was for guests to graze, sampling multiple students' dishes to provide fair and even assessments.
But Shijun had completely shattered that equilibrium. Anyone who tasted a Rising Dragon Dumpling immediately sprinted to the back of the line for seconds.
Left with no choice, Dojima quietly called for a backup wave of guests and ordered the staff to deliver extra steamers to Shijun's station. If they didn't speed up his output, the rest of the cooking hall would fail simply from a lack of foot traffic—and Director Senzaemon would have the judges' heads if an entire hall was unfairly eliminated.
All of this panic, however, was caused by the entirely relaxed Shijun.
Across the hall, the other students watched him with complicated, resentful eyes.
It was a crushing, helpless feeling, like watching a juggernaut flatten their hard work.
Being assigned to the same testing block as him was an absolute tragedy. Passing now was entirely a matter of luck.
Top-tier students like Erina and Alice were faring slightly better. They had plated their dishes early and secured a decent head start.
Hitting two hundred servings was manageable, but anything beyond that? Impossible.
Every guest in the room was magnetically anchored to Shijun's station. Even the starving ones preferred to stand and watch the moving dumplings rather than eat anything else.
By the forty-third minute, Shijun handed out his one-thousandth dumpling.
The guests who missed out looked genuinely devastated, as if they had just lost a fortune.
Meanwhile, the lucky ones were shamelessly showing off the intricacies of the shrimp heads that served as the dragon's face.
"Are you serious? You're keeping the head?"
"I didn't even get a dumpling! Let me at least have the shrimp head!"
"Back off! I'm taking this home to preserve it."
"Ten thousand yen. Sell it to me."
"Get lost, I'm not short on cash."
The crowd eventually dispersed, murmuring in low voices, their conversations entirely consumed by the Rising Dragon Dumplings.
The Totsuki students were shell-shocked.
A residential training camp had never seen a scene like this. The entire assessment had essentially become Shijun's private exhibition.
Not only had he cleared a thousand servings with time to spare, but the guests were literally fighting over his scraps. It was entirely demoralizing. The students just wanted the timer to run out so they could retreat to their rooms and process their defeat in peace.
Yukihira Soma stared down at his own station, his special mackerel curry noodles sitting practically untouched.
He looked unusually quiet.
Faced with Shijun's overwhelming dominance, Soma realized how naive he had been.
Thinking he could compete with Shijun in a high-volume buffet format? Not a chance in hell. The realization shattered his usual bravado.
Nearby, Takumi Aldini offered a bitter smile, secretly thanking his lucky stars.
Thank God he hadn't challenged anyone before the trial began. At least, excluding Shijun, the rest of them were on a somewhat even playing field.
"No need to panic... two hundred and thirteen served. Ten minutes left. I should break three hundred..."
Erina muttered to herself, her usual haughtiness replaced by nervous calculation. She was visibly unsettled.
As the hall finally began to clear, Dojima Gin, Hinako Inui, and Sekimori approached Shijun's station.
They needed to know the secret.
Hinako spoke first, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"You used the shrimp head to cap the end of the dumpling, right? To seal in the umami? At first, I thought the dragon head was just a visual garnish. What a wonderfully imaginative dish!"
Sekimori nodded vigorously. In both creativity and flavor, the Rising Dragon Dumpling had far surpassed anything he could have anticipated.
"But... why do they stand up on their own?" Hinako asked. "Is it because you used two different types of dough?"
Dojima had his own theories, but the exact mechanics still eluded him. He looked at Shijun expectantly.
Seeing the esteemed alumni staring at him like curious culinary students, Shijun smiled.
"Exactly. Using two distinct types of dough causes a unique reaction when subjected to high heat."
"Wheat starch is denser and less elastic than standard flour."
Dojima murmured, the pieces beginning to fall into place.
"Right." Shijun confirmed. "The shrimp head seals the top, trapping the intense steam inside the filling. When you open the bamboo steamer, the cold air hits the surface. The heat trapped inside violently expands, looking for a way to vent."
Dojima's eyes lit up with sudden realization.
"And because the standard flour dough on the bottom is incredibly tough, the heat can't escape there. The wheat starch dough on top, however, is much lighter and highly expansive—so it bulges upward!"
"Like a hot air balloon." Sekimori gasped. "The trapped steam forces the lighter upper dough to rise, creating the illusion of a living dragon. Absolutely brilliant."
The judges stared at him in awe. The culinary science was simple in hindsight, but combining those principles into a perfectly executed, moving piece of art? It was the work of a genius. Who else but this monster standing in front of them could have pulled it off?
Even someone as composed as Shijun felt a slight twinge of guilt under their reverent gazes. He wanted to humbly admit that the recipe was just handed to him by the system.
But he obviously couldn't say that.
So, he simply maintained his confident smile and gracefully accepted their praise.
Sorry about that, he thought mildly.