"Isn't that Satou?"
"Last semester he was basically at the bottom of the rankings, wasn't he?"
"With standards this strict, he's doomed for sure."
Satou walked toward the front of the room holding his dish, drawing almost no attention. To the students, this was just another guaranteed failure.
"What dish did you make?"
A soft voice suddenly sounded beside him — Izayoi Tsuki had walked up and asked the question herself.
"Huh? The class president is talking to Satou?"
"Seriously?"
The surrounding students were stunned. Their admired, untouchable class monitor suddenly paying attention to someone as unremarkable as Satou made absolutely no sense to them.
"Yangzhou Fried Rice," Satou answered honestly.
Izayoi Tsuki nodded lightly before turning away, though her expression remained thoughtful.
"The class president seems… a little interested in you," Kaga Aoi whispered.
Satou only shrugged. He didn't understand her attitude either, and frankly, he didn't care enough to think about it.
Mr. Mita happened to be in a good mood. After tasting numerous disastrous dishes, he'd finally encountered a few promising ones. Izayoi Tsuki was someone he knew well: she had interned at Kagurazaka-ya since middle school, and it was clear her skills had improved over the break. At this point, he felt she was only days away from being promoted to a full-fledged chef — a rare honor for a student.
Kaga Aoi also showed great potential. With proper training, she could easily be invited for an internship upon graduation.
Just then, Satou approached the podium, placed his plate down, and said, "Yangzhou Fried Rice. Please taste it."
"Oh? Alright."
Mr. Mita composed himself and picked up his chopsticks.
Satou was tense. Yangzhou Fried Rice was currently the best dish he could produce, and though he'd earned a passing score from the system, he still wasn't sure how it would hold up here.
The moment he lifted the bowl covering the plate, a burst of steam and fragrance rose into the air.
Golden rice grains glistened with oil, mixed with bright green peas, rich yellow corn, and red ham. The colors were vibrant and inviting, and the aroma was enough to make anyone hungry.
"This presentation…"
Mr. Mita was inwardly startled. Compared to the poorly made dishes he'd seen all morning, this one stood out immediately.
He picked up a spoonful — rice, chicken cubes, and corn — and tasted it.
A burst of flavor exploded across his tongue.
The rice was perfectly fried, neither dry nor soggy. The chicken was tender and chewy, the corn was sweet, the ham savory — every ingredient worked flawlessly together.
Mr. Mita never imagined a simple plate of fried rice could deliver this level of depth.
He took several more bites before forcing himself to stop. If he didn't restrain himself, he would've finished the entire plate on the spot.
"Manager Mita, can you give a score now?" the Homeroom Teacher asked, surprised. Until now, the manager had only taken tiny bites from each student's dish.
Mr. Mita didn't answer immediately. He struggled, conflicted, turning the score over in his mind.
"Your fried rice," he finally said, "has one overwhelming strength — it has no weaknesses."
"Not a single weakness?" Satou blinked. When he'd tasted it last night, he'd detected plenty of flaws — but he quickly remembered that what he could taste with a refined tongue didn't necessarily apply to others.
"Yes," Mr. Mita continued. "Every ingredient — the rice, the ham, the corn — blends together seamlessly. There isn't a single fault."
"What is the name of this fried rice?"
"Yangzhou Fried Rice. A very common Chinese fried rice," Satou replied.
Mr. Mita nodded slowly. "This is the most delicious fried rice I have ever eaten. Therefore, the score is… ninety-three points."
The entire classroom went silent.
A second later — chaos.
"What did Satou just get?!"
"Ninety-three?! That's four points higher than the class president!"
"Impossible! When did he get so good?!"
Even Izayoi Tsuki's calm, composed golden eyes widened in shock. She'd known Satou was hiding something… but surpassing her during a practical cooking class was another matter entirely.
Kaga Aoi could only stare, speechless.
The Homeroom Teacher's hands shook as he recorded the score. "Manager, are you certain?"
"Yeah, are you really sure?" Satou asked as well.
Nearly the whole class choked in disbelief.Why are you surprised?! We're the ones supposed to be confused!
Mr. Mita nodded earnestly. "I'm certain. Your dish is perfect in every aspect. It simply lacks a signature, captivating highlight — otherwise, the score could be even higher."
Then he remembered something, took out a business card, and handed it to Satou.
"By the way — your name is Satou, yes? Would you be interested in becoming an apprentice chef at Kagurazaka-ya? I didn't expect to discover such talent again."
The students around him all shot envious looks at the card. For many of them, this was exactly the opportunity they dreamed of when they chose this school.
"This…" Satou hesitated. "I might not have much time."
Mr. Mita waved it off kindly. "Don't worry. Kagurazaka-ya has an agreement with your school. Student interns receive special flexibility. Just come when you can. The daily pay is hourly — five thousand yen per hour."
When Satou heard the hourly wage, he thought for a moment, then accepted the business card.