Nene was still awake despite her exhaustion. Turning to her side, she pressed the pillow against her face, hiding the blush that refused to fade.
"That… idiot Damian… always so confident… like he owns the kitchen of the world," she muttered to herself.
With a heavy sigh, she sank deeper into the mattress. The heat on her face took a while to subside, but little by little, her body relaxed… and she finally drifted off to sleep.
---
At three in the morning, alarms rang out like a synchronized orchestra. One by one, the students woke up, turning off their alarm clocks with swift, almost robotic motions. They washed their faces, changed clothes, and headed to their designated kitchens, sporting faint dark circles and focused gazes.
Some had managed to rest. Others, though awake, used the break just to breathe deeply and calm their minds. Even without deep sleep, the silence and pause made a difference.
It was time to begin.
Tension filled the air. The students knew that to deliver quantity and quality, time would always be the enemy. Those who had already mapped out their plans got to work immediately—boiling broths, chopping vegetables, and adjusting seasonings with meticulous precision.
Damian was among them—but, as always, he stood out from the crowd.
His face was calm, completely unrushed. He walked to his station as if it were just another ordinary morning.
Without going for meats or elaborate ingredients, he went straight to the essentials: fresh whole milk, heavy cream, precisely hydrated gelatin sheets, natural vanilla, organic honey, and a handful of red berries he had marinated gently.
Every movement was careful. With a steady hand, he heated the milk, cream, and honey mixture to the ideal point, then incorporated the gelatin perfectly, molding individual portions into pre-chilled glass cups.
The gentle aroma of vanilla filled the station.
While many were still organizing their ingredients, Damian was already cleaning his workspace.
He knew exactly what he was going to make.
First would be a Zuppa di Latte.
This soup is simple and rustic, typical of more rural regions of Italy. The basic ingredients usually include:
Milk (main ingredient)
Stale or toasted bread
Butter or olive oil
Salt and pepper
Sometimes grated cheese (like Parmigiano-Reggiano)
It was very common as a breakfast or light meal, especially in earlier times or among peasant families.
Next, a Crema di Latte.
It's a kind of sweet cream made with:
Milk (main ingredient)
Sugar
Cornstarch (or flour)
Vanilla or lemon peel for flavor
It resembles a very light pudding or a smooth porridge and can be served warm or cold, alone or with fruit, honey, or cookies. It's common in some regions as a delicate alternative to the traditional breakfast.
Then a Polenta di Latte (milk-cooked polenta)
Polenta di latte is a richer variation of traditional polenta, made especially for breakfast or as comfort food. Main ingredients include:
Milk (instead of water)
Cornmeal
Butter
Grated cheese (like Parmigiano or Pecorino, optional)
Salt
This version is creamy, nutritious, and can be served with honey, cold cuts, or even eggs, making it a hearty breakfast—especially in mountainous regions like northern Italy.
And finally, a Panna Cotta al Latte.
It's a smooth, gelatin-based dessert—perfect as a light, delicate ending to breakfast or brunch. Its main ingredients are:
Whole milk (sometimes partially replaced by cream, but here it's the focus)
Unflavored gelatin
Sugar
Vanilla essence (or lemon zest for aroma)
It is served cold, in small portions, possibly with a light fruit, honey, or chocolate sauce.
It's an elegant and subtle way to finish a special breakfast—ideal for weekend brunches or refined morning meals.
Damian chose these four dishes for a simple yet strategic reason: they formed a complete and coherent journey of flavor, texture, and tradition—all tied together by one humble ingredient: milk.
He wanted to prove that it was possible to build an entire gastronomic experience around a single base ingredient, extracting strength, elegance, tradition, and innovation from it.
The Zuppa di Latte would begin the meal with warmth and nostalgia, evoking a nearly forgotten simplicity of Italian peasant cuisine. It was the perfect way to warm the palate and emotionally touch the guests, with bread soaked in milk and cheese bringing instant comfort.
Next, the Crema di Latte would soften the transition with its light and sweet texture, serving as a delicate bridge between the savory start and the richer dish to come. Its purpose was to prepare the palate, creating a moment of pause and charm.
The Polenta di Latte would then arrive as the centerpiece of the meal—a substantial, energetic, and nourishing dish, with the rich flavors of butter and cheese balanced by the smoothness of the milk. It was the main stage, the driving force behind the menu.
And finally, the Panna Cotta al Latte would come as the closing touch: a subtle, elegant, and memorable ending that would cleanse the palate and leave a light sweetness on the tongue, finishing with finesse and sophistication.
In addition, each dish told a part of Italy's culinary story—from rural tradition to fine dining dessert—and by mastering all these nuances, Damian would show not only his technique, but also his deep understanding of the culture behind the ingredients.
He didn't just want to impress. He wanted to connect, to move—and to win with something that was at once simple, authentic, and daring.
"Hey… is he done already?" a student nearby whispered.
"Impossible… he just started a moment ago!"
"As expected of Gray-senpai… even milk obeys him!"
Damian stretched lightly, put away his knife, and without saying a word, left the kitchen under the stunned gazes around him.
Nene, in another kitchen, heard the comments but couldn't believe it.
"He… already decided exactly what he's going to make? All four dishes?" Nene thought, unsettled.
Damian returned to the dorm and lay back down. He knew precisely how long it would take for his panna cotta to reach the ideal texture in the fridge.
---
At 5:30 a.m., the dining hall was still half-empty. The aroma of the first broths and roasts began to spread, but no dish was truly ready. Except for one.
Damian, calmly seated at a table, was enjoying a portion of his breakfast.
Isshiki and Kuga arrived shortly after, clearly tired and sleepy, puzzled by the sight.
"Damian? You're already eating?" Kuga said, chuckling.
Damian looked at him and replied calmly:
"Yes, I've already finished preparing everything I need."
Isshiki raised an eyebrow.
"Are you serious? You've already chosen your four dishes?"
"Yes, and they're all Italian classics," Damian said with a small smile.
"I see, so you're building a set…" Isshiki murmured.
Damian nodded.
"Exactly. I intend to present a complete menu—with each dish connected."
Nene approached slowly, still somewhat hesitant. She avoided looking directly at him, but curiosity won over.
"Damian-kun… how many dishes are you planning to serve?"
Damian responded, as if it were obvious:
"I intend to exceed the 350-dish minimum they requested—or at least until I run out of ingredients."
"Isn't that a bit… excessive?" Isshiki asked, concerned.
Kuga crossed his arms.
"Are you going to handle that alone?"
Damian just smiled.
"Who do you think I am? I'm not called the Lightning Chef and the Artisan for nothing. I want to shake the alumni to their core."
Silence fell over the table for a moment.
Nene, with a slight smile at the corner of her lips, murmured inaudibly to herself:
"Idiot… why do you always say such cool things like that?"
"How exactly do you plan to organize your time to make that many dishes?" Isshiki asked, frowning as he stirred his tea.
Damian shrugged, as if the answer was obvious.
"It's simple, Isshiki," Damian began, a confident smile on his face. "I'll make the most of every second I have. When it comes to efficiency, the key is overlapping tasks. While the polenta and crema are cooking, I'll prep the panna cotta. That gives it chilling time while I focus on the others. With larger pots and more tools, the pace gets faster."
He paused to grab a spoon and stir the drink in front of him. "Sure, at first it might look chaotic, but the idea is to give each dish its proper time without compromising quality. I'll need more space in the kitchen, so I'll organize it so each dish has its own area without interfering with the others."
Isshiki looked at the table, still visibly skeptical. "And the 350 plates?"
Damian laughed, almost dismissing the question. "Ah, that's the easy part. If I can't exceed that number, then I'm not a chef anymore. But of course, it all depends on the ingredients. I'm not going to burn through the entire pantry, or people will go hungry. Either way, I'll surprise you."
Kuga raised an eyebrow, clearly doubtful. "Hmm… and what will you do when, inevitably, a dish goes wrong? It's not like you'll have time for mistakes."
Damian looked at Kuga with a defiant expression. "Mistakes? That word doesn't exist in my vocabulary. The secret is never letting the audience realize something went wrong." He winked. "After all, part of the game is the show. If anything happens, I'll improvise. There's always a solution—and I always find a way. That's part of the charm."
Nene, who had remained quiet until then, couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "Impressive… and a little worrying."
Damian smiled, clearly pleased with the attention. "Just a little, right? It's going to be a spectacle—just wait."
Isshiki looked at him, thoughtful. "So what are you going to start with?"
"First, I'll begin with the Zuppa di Latte, since it's the fastest. While it heats up, I'll start prepping the Crema di Latte. When that's ready, I'll cook the polenta. All in logical sequence, to keep the rhythm. In the meantime, I'll prep the panna cotta. I know it needs chilling time, so I'll leave it for last. If needed, I have my ice bath trick to speed up gelation. And voilà!"
Damian made a theatrical gesture with his hands, as if presenting his masterpiece.
Isshiki seemed thoughtful. "You really have it all planned out, don't you?"
Damian gave a slight smile. "When you're called the Artisan, you can't just wing it. The kitchen is a canvas, my friend. And I'm the painter."
Kuga looked at Nene, who still had that mischievous smile. "Well, let's see if you can really pull it off. I hope your show doesn't end in disaster."
"Disaster? Don't worry," Damian replied with a confident grin. "The only thing happening here is a shockwave of quality and efficiency. Get ready to witness the future of gastronomy."
Nene whispered again, with an amused expression: "This is going to be… something."
Isshiki watched curiously as Damian calmly stirred a bowl of fragrant white cream.
"Damian," he said lightly, "why are you revealing exactly what you're going to make? Wouldn't it be more strategic to keep it a secret until the end?"
Kuga, arms crossed with a skeptical smile, nodded. "Yeah, you're talking like no one here's going to copy your ideas. Want the competition to thank you or something?"
Damian let out a muffled chuckle, his eyes never leaving the cream he stirred with precision. "You two still don't get it, do you?"
He looked up, a teasing gleam dancing in his eyes.
"No matter what I do, no one's going to keep up. You can try to copy me, sure, but you'll stumble before you're halfway there. The challenge is about to begin. If you're already worried about what I'm going to do… you've already wasted your time."
Kuga narrowed his eyes. "You're really that confident?"
Damian tilted his head, wearing a provocative smile. "I'm just being kind. Giving you a heads-up about what's going to happen. That way, it hurts less when you watch the destruction unfold."
Isshiki laughed, amused by the blatant air of superiority. "You really enjoy provoking people, huh?"
Damian shrugged. "Provoking? No. I just think it's fair to let the audience know when they're about to witness something legendary."
With that, he gave the cream one final stir, lifted the bowl with elegance, and calmly walked over to his station as the signal sounded, marking the beginning of the challenge.
Kuga glanced at Isshiki. "He's either going to crash and burn… or break the record."
Isshiki smiled over the rim of his teacup. "Either way… it's going to be fun to watch."
(End of Chapter)
Give me some power stones there you go~😉
On Saturday I was coming back from an event with my younger brother, and suddenly he told me there was something in my hair and I asked him to take it out. I felt a small sting of pain, so I thought it was a hair strand.Imagine my surprise when he showed me a WHITE HAIR, bro, I'm 20 years old, I've been so stressed lately that I even got a white hair on my head.