"All right—if both you and your grandfather believe it, then I have nothing more to say."
Sōe Nakiri still found it hard to accept Kael.
It was only natural to doubt something that completely defied your understanding.
"All right, Father, Grandfather, wait here a bit. I'm going to help in the kitchen."
With that, Alice Nakiri went straight into the kitchen.
She'd prepared a few dishes herself—there was no way she'd just stand by and watch.
As time passed, dish after dish was brought to the table. The final plate was Kael's orchid bear paw.
It wasn't just about the bear paw in the center—The hearts of greens arranged around the dish were just as important.
Their centers had been trimmed into a clean, decorative cut that made the whole plate look even more refined.
The shrimp paste was a blend of minced shrimp, pork fat, and egg, folded together with shiitake and slivers of ham. The whole thing looked less like food and more like a piece of edible art.
Since there were so many people at the table, Kael didn't stop at one paw—he used all four. It wasn't the kind of ingredient you let sit in storage; something this precious should be enjoyed while it's fresh.
"What a lavish orchid bear paw—and he used four paws at once!"
Gin Dojima had seen this dish before, but people usually used one paw. Kael, however, had pulled out four at once—now that was extravagant.
"Indeed. Bear paw isn't something you get to eat whenever you want. Using four at once is quite the statement." Sōe nodded in agreement.
"Everyone, stop gushing about it—actually getting the food into your stomach is the priority."
Kael, listening to their amazement, reminded them with a smile. "Didn't you see—Yuki was already drooling?"
Bear paw was something she'd never eaten. Back home, there might have been the occasional brown bear hunted, but the paw—such a delicacy—was not for her. For Yuki and the others, this was a first; their curiosity about its flavor was high.
"So tender—this texture. He did all this in just one day?"
Senzaemon knew his granddaughter had only returned yesterday; the paw had only started being prepared then.
Traditionally, bear paw needed days to soften before it could be used in a dish. Yet here it was, cooked to this tenderness in a single day.
"It's not just the texture. That powerful aroma that only blooms once it's in your mouth—what is that? So layered, so complex, but unbelievably delicious."
Gin Dojima tasted that burst of flavor; it was unfamiliar and intricate—something he definitely hadn't experienced before. That flavor paired perfectly with bear paw, making them all wonder what Kael had done.
At the exact moment Gin finished speaking, Sōe and Sōe's father both experienced the classic Nakiri reaction: their clothes tore. Both immediately yanked their garments back into place.
Kael inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Good thing I didn't transmigrate into the Nakiri household—this clothes-bursting passive is just embarrassing.
"Wasn't the theme for this autumn selection curry? I added a spice I'd just finished researching—how's the flavor?" Kael grinned.
"Autumn selection? I'd forgotten. But with your current level, entering the autumn selection is... a bit cruel." Senzaemon looked stunned. If his sensing hadn't been wrong, the core of Kael's cooking had just reached a Seven-Star level.
To the outside world, Kael was still only a Five-Star Chef. But Senzaemon had sensed a qualitative leap in his chef's heart—once you reach Seven-Star, the chef's heart undergoes a change that's easy to detect.
Kael had never shown his real skill at school before; in making the bear paw, he'd gone all out—and now he was manifesting Seven-Star cooking.
"Phhh... now that you say it, this dish should be a standard Seven-Star creation!"
Gin drew a breath. Nobody expected Kael to be at Seven-Star—what a bewildering rise.
When the seniors at the resort had discussed Kael, they'd thought he was a Five-Star chef who might reach Seven-Star by graduation. But they'd underestimated him. They'd meant graduation in third year—not first year.
Kael was only a first-year in the high school division, yet his skill had already hit Seven-Star. What would he be by graduation—Eight-Star? Nine-Star? Nine-Star Plus?
Gin was genuinely shocked by Kael's freakish talent.
"Seven-Star..."
Senzaemon fell silent. He hadn't expected Kael to be this ridiculous, but it was actually good news—the more Kael's talent, the better the chances of solving the God's Tongue problem.
"Seven-Star?! Kael, you're already Seven-Star? Weren't you Five-Star before?"
Yuki's eyes widened as if she'd seen a ghost. This news was simply staggering.
"Yeah, yeah. We didn't see you at star assessments these past months, and your certificate wasn't updated."
Ryoko Sakaki and the others voiced the obvious question.
"A certificate isn't essential for me. I'm still studying at Totsuki—whether I'm Seven-Star or Five-Star doesn't change much for now." Kael explained.
Previously he'd taken certifications to build fame and earn money. Since taking command of the Chinese Cuisine Research Society, money wasn't a problem.
He'd also become friendly with the Nakiri family, and Alice could pull resources for him with Senzaemon's tacit approval—consider it an investment. So the certificate served little purpose.
"It's true you don't need it at school—the current ten best instructors at Totsuki only reach Five-Star."
Everyone agreed. WGO certificates did open doors; high-level chefs with WGO credentials enjoyed many privileges. But chefs who'd reached Seven-Star rarely needed such perks—their reputations already soared internationally. Joichiro Saiba and Gin Dojima in their prime were shining examples.
"Director, Kael's already at Seven-Star. Should we really have him enter the autumn selection?"
After dinner, Senzaemon and the others left; they had matters to attend to. Gin had come to the school to report on work. Sōe's presence was mainly to see his daughter.
On the way out, Gin asked bluntly: with Kael at that level, wouldn't entering the autumn selection just be crushing for the other students?
"What's wrong with it? He's a first-year and not part of the Elite Ten, so he's fully eligible."
Senzaemon shook his head.
Totsuki was never a playground—if students were crushed by events like this, they were unlikely to achieve much anyway.
The crucial thing was a small number of people who reached the top and remained steadfast—the kind who wouldn't be shaken by Kael . The rest would either be honed by the adversity or weeded out.
"Speaking of which, this year's students are better than any before."
Gin remarked; he felt that even his golden era couldn't compare to Kael's generation.
"Of course. This era was meticulously prepared—if it couldn't outshine the others, that'd be odd." Senzaemon replied.
The Jewel Generation hadn't formed by chance; the Nakiri family had orchestrated it. After realizing there was no way to fix the God's Tongue issue, Senzaemon pinned hope on the next generation.
To cultivate enough geniuses, they scoured Japan and kept watch even beyond the country, inviting talent. So the Jewel Generation existed by design.
Yet as they watched the generation grow, some disappointment crept in; they still hadn't produced someone who could match the stunted Erina Nakiri. Still, the talent was real—if they couldn't solve God's Tongue, they were worth fostering.
"All right, let it be. He can still join the autumn selection—there's no harm to Totsuki."
Senzaemon concluded and they fell silent on the matter.
Time flew. When the others returned and learned everyone had eaten bear paw, regret spread—if only they'd stayed.
But with the holidays beginning, the students decided to go home and refine their curry recipes. Even though Kael was at Polar Star Dormitory to help, they didn't want to rely entirely on him.
Kael, of course, stayed at school—his friends in this world were at Polar Star Dormitory. Staying made sense. Also staying were Soma Yukihira and Alice Nakiri.
Soma planned to bury himself in research at the dorm—he wanted to perfect his curry. He had no immediate plans to open a restaurant; he was busy experimenting with various curry styles.
Alice didn't care either way—her family had residential quarters in Totsuki, and she was chauffeured when she needed to go out. Whether she left for the holidays mattered little. Most importantly, her affection for Kael had grown, and she wasn't shy about it—unlike Megumi Tadokoro, she wasn't one to hide her feelings.
She chose to get closer to Kael; wherever he went, she followed. She'd also continue taking medicines to enhance her eyesight, so she stayed at the Polar Star Dormitory.
The few who stayed helped Fumio Daimido manage the dorm's many operations—farmland and livestock still needed tending.
With everyone away for the holiday, she'd have been swamped; having a few people remain was a big help.
Kael and the others didn't refuse. They were committed to improving their cooking, but they still helped out when needed. Alice took an interest in farming and animal husbandry—experiences she'd never had before—so upon learning about Polar Star's farmland she began learning to farm.
Time passed quickly. By the end of the holiday, with the help of the Dark Cooking Society's Zone Two, Kael had ascended to the Eight-Star Chef tier. His cooking was now comparable to Gin Dojima's—there was simply an unfair advantage.
Soma, after days of relentless research, developed his own curry creation: the scent bomb that appears in the original story.
Like Akira Hayama, he trapped the aroma within the dish; when you begin to eat, the scent explodes like a bomb.
Kael's approach was less flashy; it matched his culinary core—simple and blunt. Everyone had tasted Kael's curry. From the start, its overpowering aroma lingered constantly.
To give other students a fighting chance, Kael modified it so the fragrance would dissipate a few minutes after the dish was finished. That way, he wouldn't completely suppress the other students' scores.
Although Kael's dishes wouldn't create sensory suppression, their dominance could still sway judges. He spent effort ensuring the scent faded within minutes.
Under Kael's influence, Alice shifted her focus from molecular gastronomy toward traditional cuisine. She realized her progress had slowed and decided to change tack.