A crescent-moon smile curled on Gon's lips.
"Yes, I've gone mad," he whispered with a nod of approval, as if the whole situation were nothing more than a comedy.
Once again, Gon began gathering all the ingredients needed to make the molten chocolate cake: butter, chocolate, eggs, flour...
He paid no attention to the translucent screen floating before him, as if it didn't even exist.
"Five minutes left... I don't know if this will work, but it's better than doing nothing."
As he tried to motivate himself, a mechanical and familiar voice echoed in his mind.
[ Do you wish to use it? ]
Once again, Gon acted as if nothing had happened, brushing it off as just another effect of stress—the stress of failing the exam, the fear of never being allowed to cook again.
But the voice paid no heed to his state and repeated:
[ Do you wish to use it? ]
The approving smile remained on Gon's face as he combined the chocolate and butter using the microwave.
[ Do you wish to use it? ]
The robotic voice repeated the same phrase every four seconds.
Still, Gon's smile did not fade, even though a nerve or two twitched along his neck.
[ Do you wish to use it? ]
The masked judge watched the young man move again, puzzled.
Ah... Is he really trying to redo the molten cake?
"Professor," the judge said calmly.
"Y-yes, sir?" replied the man who had so proudly declared himself Gon's instructor.
"It seems that some people here have trouble reading the clock. Would you mind assisting them?"
The professor nodded, fully grasping the meaning behind those words.
"Dear students, there are only five minutes remaining. Focus on presentation and begin plating your dishes."
The atmosphere shifted in an instant.
Woah. The intensity had just doubled.
While everyone scrambled in a kind of organized panic to put the finishing touches on their dishes, Gon... calmly started over. From the very beginning.
"He's an idiot."
The words finally slipped from the mouth of the masked judge, clearly tired of witnessing such a lack of talent and discernment from someone aspiring to earn a Culinary BTS.
The other judges stared daggers at Kô Gon.
In their eyes, he had just humiliated their institution—
in front of a high-ranking guest.
Because when a student is incompetent, people inevitably start questioning the ones who trained them.
And that insult…
It was aimed at all of them.
"It was a mistake to accept a student like that."
That's what it implied.
---
[ Do you wish to use it? ]
The robotic voice echoed inside Kô's head for the thirtieth time.
Only four minutes remained.
Just as he was about to start blanching the eggs with sugar…
Frustration. Anger. Stress. Despair.
And on top of it all: voices in his head, and a translucent screen floating before his eyes.
He had truly slipped into madness.
With a twisted grin and a dangerous glint in his eyes, Gon snapped:
"Use, use, use... That's the only damn word you know! Who are you, huh?! What the hell are you talking about?! Use what?!"
But the metallic voice remained unmoved.
[ Do you wish to use it? ]
Ah…
Gon half-opened his eyes, dazed, staring blankly at the translucent screen before him.
His gaze was so empty, it bordered on absurd.
[ Do you wish to use it? ]
At last, still whisking his eggs, he answered in a calm, almost defeated tone:
"Use whatever the fuck you want, asshole."
It had just slipped out. A reflex.
But then—
[ Skill "Chef's Inspiration I" successfully activated ]
[ Cost: -100 CP ]
[ Due to the low skill level, only one solution will be proposed. ]
[ Solution identified: Warm chocolate truffle with molten core, crisp cacao crust, and quick coffee cream. ]
[ Transferring data to "Apprentice"... ]
[ Transfer complete. ]
Gon wasn't even paying attention to the text flashing before his eyes.
But he could hear the voice in his head... and a faint smile formed on his lips.
"Ah… what kind of bullsh—"
He cut himself off mid-sentence.
Huh...?!
What?!
His eyes snapped wide open.
What was happening… was completely absurd.
Wait—
That was my mistake?
He glanced at his earlier failed attempt at the molten chocolate cake.
He had messed up every single part of it.
And worst of all… he'd even botched the core's cuisson.
"Hey... why am I just now realizing all this?"
Even to him, the question sounded strange. But he couldn't stop it from escaping his lips.
Just moments ago, he hadn't had the slightest clue what had gone wrong.
But now… everything was crystal clear.
And most importantly—
"Wait... I can fix it. I actually can!"
A nervous laugh escaped his lips.
A recipe he'd never learned was surfacing in his mind…
He had never even seen a dish like this before, but somehow—
A molten-centered chocolate truffle...?
"With this... I won't fail."
Gon's eyes snapped open in front of the translucent blue screen, this time filled with real intensity.
"Hahaha… Maybe all of this is just a dream, but what if—"
He didn't finish the thought.
He moved—fast, almost frantically.
He grabbed the overcooked fondant and placed it in front of him.
He needed a base for a crust, and ironically…
It was perfect.
The next step was to crumble the failed fondant—still warm—then mix it with melted butter and unsweetened cocoa, before shaping it into a spherical shell using a mold.
Next, a quick liquid ganache had to be placed at the center, made from hot cream, melted chocolate, and a touch of instant coffee.
Finally, once the shell was sealed, it would be gently heated over a low flame and plated on a simple white dish.
It was an express dish—easily doable in just under two minutes.
The masked judge, seasoned by experience, sensed a subtle shift in the kitchen's atmosphere…
It was drifting in one clear direction.
Toward Gon.
He turned his head with a bored expression, then cast a lazy glance in his direction.
"…What's he up to this time?"
Hmm...
...
...
What is he doing?
Wait—
The masked judge suddenly straightened in his chair.
No way...
Even behind his tinted glasses, you could tell his eyes had just gone wide.
"How…?"
As if to cut through the tension, Gon's professor raised his voice:
"Only one minute left!"
— Woah…
— Shit…
— Come on, heat, heat, heat!
......
The room was in chaos.
Gon, meanwhile, was suffocating.
"Ah… ah… ah… shit, shit…"
The preparation method was crystal clear—etched perfectly in his mind.
But his body… just wouldn't follow.
His hands were trembling. His legs felt like lead.
He fumbled, struggling even to form the spherical shell in the mold.
The mixture stuck to his fingers, crumbling into unstable fragments.
"No… no! It's not going to end like this!"
He tried again.
A second attempt.
But this time, the mixture was too firm.
It snapped clean in half as he closed the sphere.
"Why the hell can't I get this right?!"
"Hey, voice? I don't know who you are, but could you at least help me out!"
Panicking, Gon even pleaded with the strange voice echoing in his mind.
If I can't get it right this time… I never will.
He clenched his fists tightly.
Calm down, Gon. Think. Stay rational. There's got to be a reason.
Both methods failed. That means there's a common flaw. What is it?
Nearby, he heard one of the candidates whispering what sounded like a desperate incantation:
"Come on, heat, heat, please heat up..."
...Hmm.
Heat?
...Temperature?
"Temperature! That's it!"
I need to warm my fingers slightly to soften the dough, then cool them quickly to set the sphere once it's formed.
As the idea took shape in his mind, Gon executed it precisely, step by step.
And finally—
He produced a closed sphere.
Almost perfect.
A familiar voice rang once again in his mind:
[ Quest: Personal Technical Breakthrough (Success) ]
[ Reward: +10 CP ]
But his mind was already elsewhere.
Even though he had managed to claw his way out of that moment, he had lost too much time.
Yes, the dish could be made in two minutes—
But only by a seasoned professional chef.
"If only I'd figured it out a little earlier… No. It's too late now."
I've failed.
The professor's voice echoed across the room:
"Time's up. Bring your dishes forward in order."
All the candidates brought up their plates.
The judges tasted, discussed, evaluated, and scored each one carefully.
Gon, meanwhile, was the only one with nothing to present.
Which, in practical terms, meant one thing only:
Failure.
---
"Professor, please summon Julia to the conference room after the trials are over," said the masked judge.
"Hahaha, she's truly an exceptional student. The only one who managed to catch the attention of someone like you… Then again, her dish was chef-worthy."
"Understood," replied the professor.
"And also…" the masked judge added.
"Yes?" the professor asked.
"Summon that Ko Gon as well."
What?!