"Excellent, excellent. These garlic sprouts are perfectly cooked—yet they still look like they were just picked."
To confirm his guess, Senzaemon Nakiri first tasted one of the garlic sprouts. He also sampled the sauce clinging to it, carefully savoring its aroma and spice.
Unlike Terunori Kuga's dish, this one didn't carry that almost punishing burn.
Kael's Mapo Tofu still had the numbing and spicy notes characteristic of the dish, but they were balanced. The deep crimson color wasn't from overwhelming heat—it came from using milder varieties of chili that looked fiery but had a gentler bite.
This ensured the same rich color without sacrificing balance.
After tasting the sauce, Senzaemon lifted his spoon and took a full bite of Kael's Mapo Tofu.
The moment it touched his tongue, his eyes widened—and his clothes exploded in a powerful Clothes Bursting reaction.
But unlike before, he didn't stop after one bite. He kept eating—again, and again—unable to put the spoon down.
The contrast with Kuga's dish was stark. He'd only tasted that once. Now, he couldn't seem to stop himself.
It wasn't until most of the plate was gone that he finally paused, leaving just a small portion behind.
For a man who'd tasted the world's finest cuisine, this kind of reaction was rare. Kael's dish was indeed extraordinary—but it shouldn't have been that overwhelming.
The truth was, Senzaemon wasn't overeating out of greed or excitement. He had sensed something unusual in the flavor—something strange and enticing—and he kept tasting in an effort to understand it.
But even after several bites, he couldn't decipher what it was.
He finally set the spoon down and turned to Kael, his gaze sharp.
"Incredible. You added something special, didn't you? You've enhanced this dish's flavors to an unbelievable degree."
"To amplify the freshness, tenderness, and crispness so intensely—and yet keep the other flavors intact instead of burying them… that's remarkable."
"This isn't the best Mapo Tofu I've ever eaten," he admitted, "but it's definitely the most unique."
He studied the dish again, impressed. There was no way such flavor balance could be achieved through ordinary means—something had been added, something extraordinary.
He tried analyzing it by taste alone, but ultimately failed. Perhaps only the God's Tongue could pinpoint what was hidden here.
He might have been a Nakiri, but he didn't possess that power himself—and he wasn't about to ask outright. A chef's secret was sacred, and doing so publicly would have been out of line.
Meanwhile, those who did know the truth—members of the Polar Star Dormitory, Alice Nakiri, and Ryo Kurokiba—were breaking into cold sweats.
They all knew Kael specialized in Poison Cuisine. Which could only mean one thing: that "special something" Senzaemon tasted… was poison.
And they were right.
Kael had infused his dish with a Compound Poison—a toxin whose harmful properties had been alchemized into flavor-enhancing agents.
Because his resources were limited, the version he'd made tonight only enhanced three qualities: freshness, tenderness, and crispness.
If he'd had the proper ingredients, he could have easily created one that amplified all eight of Mapo Tofu's key sensations.
The realization left those who knew him staring nervously at Senzaemon—half expecting the director to suddenly keel over foaming at the mouth.
"Could Kael's Mapo Tofu really be that special? I've never seen Grandpa react like this!"
Erina Nakiri looked stunned. Her grandfather was famous for his composure, even during the most divine culinary experiences. But now? He'd practically devoured the entire dish.
"The result's clear as day," Eishi Tsukasa said quietly, shaking his head. "This Shokugeki's over—Kuga's loss is absolute."
From Senzaemon's comments and reaction alone, it was obvious Kael's dish had outclassed Kuga's by far.
The strongest Chinese cuisine specialist in Totsuki had just been dethroned.
And Kael's name—already whispered across campus—was about to explode in fame. Kuga, on the other hand, had just become the stepping stone for that rise.
Even so, curiosity buzzed through the spectators. What kind of trick could make Senzaemon Nakiri himself call a dish "special"?
Of course, the one most desperate to know was Rindo Kobayashi. She lived for tasting new things—but sadly, this time, she couldn't get a bite.
Soon, the large screen above the Moon Banquet Hall lit up with the official result of the Shokugeki.
Winner: Kael.
No suspense. No contest.
Kuga's expression was sour, but he didn't protest. He knew Senzaemon was absolutely impartial—if he said Kael won, then Kael had won.
He wasn't bitter about losing itself. What stung was how he lost.
Senzaemon had praised his control of spice but also exposed his flaws—and then, moments later, turned to Kael's dish and declared it something entirely beyond comparison.
Both had made Mapo Tofu, but Kael had focused on freshness, tenderness, and crispness, while Kuga had obsessed over heat and spice.
In pushing his signature elements to the extreme, Kuga had obliterated the balance of the dish.
Kael, meanwhile, had elevated three flavors without diminishing the rest. The difference was night and day.
"I lost," Kuga admitted finally, his tone calm but firm. "A deal's a deal. What's your condition? What kind of promotion do you want me to do?"
Kael smiled. "I haven't worked out all the details yet. I'm planning to create a formula and start a business venture—but, well, my name isn't exactly famous outside the school. Even winning this match doesn't change that much."
"That's where you come in. I need you to help me promote it. With your Elite Ten reputation, I'm sure you could draw some good partners."
Kuga blinked, his expression twisting slightly.
That plan… sounded awfully familiar.
Come to think of it, wasn't this exactly the kind of thing Etsuya Eizan would do?