Time trickled by, and more and more participants for the Special Grade Chef examination arrived at the venue, finding empty spots to sit and rest.
Of course, some remained standing. The most conspicuous among them was a man built like an iron tower, his muscles bulging, standing roughly two meters tall. At that moment, the tower-like man stood with his arms crossed, eyes closed in repose, as if everything happening around him was irrelevant. His mere presence exuded immense pressure.
"Look! That's Iron Arm A'Mu from 'Chao Wei Fang'! He really is tall and sturdy! I heard he can swing an iron rod weighing dozens of pounds thousands of times in half an hour!"
"The beef balls he makes are, at minimum, Special Grade quality. Half a year ago, he even came close to making Luminous Cuisine, though he unfortunately failed in the end."
"I've had his beef balls once. One bite floods your mouth with juice, the aroma is fresh and fragrant, and the texture is firm yet springy. I never thought he'd show up for this Special Grade exam too!"
Because he was so eye-catching, people started discussing his appearance, which led to revealing his identity. With those iron arms and solid muscles, he could probably swing any heavy rod with ferocious power!
"Ultimately, he's only good at making beef balls. His other skills probably haven't even reached First Grade standard," someone remarked sourly. After all, everyone present was a competitor, and naturally, this person didn't want to feel inferior, so they started boasting about themselves. "Cooking is about comprehensive skill. Only someone like me, who is above average in every aspect with no weaknesses, is truly capable!"
"Give it a rest. Isn't that just admitting you have no specialty? And you think you're something special?"
"What did you say?! This is the traditional 'Way of the Mean'! What the hell do you know?!"
Hearing his words, a bystander couldn't help but mock him. It wasn't that being average was bad, but daring to criticize others while boasting like that was simply asking for ridicule. The person who had stepped up expecting praise, suddenly finding himself insulted, flew into a rage and launched into a furious verbal battle.
Dylan took it all in without a word, showing no intention of intervening. He simply shifted his gaze to the other contestants.
Aside from the tower-like man, a woman about 1.7 meters tall, dressed in alluringly fiery clothes and exuding the aura of a ripe peach, was also drawing significant attention. More accurately, she was attracting the attention of the men present, whose gazes wandered awkwardly, looking rather lecherous no matter how one interpreted them.
Except for Dylan. He didn't avert his eyes or flinch; he simply looked openly and directly until he had seen enough, then turned his attention to other contestants.
The woman noticed his gaze. Far from being shy, she proudly puffed out her chest, clearly proud of her ability to attract a young man's attention.
Soon, Dylan had sized up all the contestants present. People were discussing some of the more formidable ones, allowing him to learn a bit about their backgrounds. For example, who would have guessed that the mature woman with the sexy figure specialized in the relatively light-flavored Huaiyang cuisine?
It had to be said, though, Guangzhou had many skilled chefs. Most of the twenty-odd chefs present were well-known names from Guangzhou restaurants. A small portion came from other regions, but they had already made a name for themselves elsewhere before coming here and were instantly recognizable upon arrival.
Among them, two individuals with blonde hair and blue eyes also garnered considerable attention. People speculated about their identities; the man and woman looked very similar, seemingly siblings, and felt like tough opponents. Everyone was talking about them.
Someone knowledgeable naturally stepped forward to explain, mentioning they had seen them in a French culinary magazine, even on the cover once. "Those two are French twins specializing in Nouvelle Cuisine."
"But, didn't they pass the French Special Grade Chef exam last year? Why are they here this year?!"
"I heard a rumor once, which I dismissed as too absurd, but now it seems it might be true! Apparently, they dislike the Gallic Rooster on the French armband, feeling it damages their image, and they want our Chinese Dragon armband instead."
"For that reason alone, they gave up their own country's Special Grade armband?"
"For that reason alone!"
At this, the crowd was rendered somewhat speechless. They had imagined all sorts of scenarios, even thinking the siblings had a falling out with the French culinary world and refused to accept the French Special Grade Chef status. They never expected... it was for such a seemingly trivial, almost joke-like reason!?
"Speaking of which, our Chinese Dragon armband is actually very similar to the Dragon Chef's Five-Clawed Golden Dragon armband. Apart from being cyan and missing a claw, it's basically the same template."
"Naturally, since Dragon Chefs originated here in China..."
"You know, the ugliest one has to be that ugly chicken emblem from Japan. If you ask me, they should just use cherry blossoms for their armband; at least that looks better than that chicken thing."
"I quite like Russia's brown bear; it looks really powerful..."
The topic shifted with surprising speed, moving from the blonde twins to the armbands of various countries, and the atmosphere grew considerably livelier.
The discussion died down after several minutes.
"By the way, who is that guy? He's been sitting there from the start. Never seen him in Guangzhou before. Is he a newly promoted First Grade Chef?" Perhaps out of boredom, or maybe because they had discussed everyone else, leaving only Dylan's background unknown, a temporary trio formed and started whispering while pointing in his direction.
"Don't know. I know all the First Grade Chefs in Guangzhou, but I've never seen this person. He must be from out of town," a well-informed person adjusted their glasses, stating definitively that Dylan wasn't a local Guangzhou chef, or they would have at least some impression of him.
"I haven't heard his name either. Probably just some unknown chef," a famous chef from another region glanced at Dylan before looking down again, speaking dismissively.
"Tsk, attending the Special Grade exam without even wearing a chef's uniform. Is he trying to act cool, or is he just clueless? Shows no basic respect for the master judges."
"Definitely some third-rate chef who just wanted to see what the Guangzhou Special Grade exam is like. He should hurry back home and stop embarrassing himself here! Seriously, every year there are one or two clueless types like this."
Someone even mocked him loudly, clearly intending for Dylan to hear and hoping to disrupt his composure.
Passing the Special Grade Chef examination was subject to quotas; typically, only one person passed per year, and sometimes none at all. Therefore, almost everyone present viewed each other as competitors. Though they might seem cordial now, if there were a way to eliminate others, they absolutely wouldn't hesitate.
Because the title of Special Grade Chef was just too desirable! With this status in Guangzhou, one could directly become the head chef of a smaller restaurant, earning a salary dozens of times higher than a First Grade Chef. Those with better skills could even open their own restaurants, keeping all the profits, and thanks to the Special Grade Chef title, business would rarely be slow.
"The examination begins in five minutes. Please come inside," announced a kind-faced, plump elderly man who emerged as the large doors to the examination hall slowly opened. He looked at the assembled candidates, a constant smile on his face.
"Time to go in. I must pass the Special Grade exam this year! If I fail again, I'll have to go to Hangzhou next year. It doesn't carry the same weight, but if I don't say anything, who will know..." someone muttered, clearly lacking confidence in their chances.
The others wore varied expressions, no longer bothering to mock Dylan. They stared intently at the open doors before stepping forward to enter. For many among them, this was not their first attempt.
"Ouch! Which bastard tripped me?!"
Suddenly, a cry of pain followed by an angry curse burst out. Before the man could say more, Dylan's foot landed squarely on his face.
"You were the loudest one making noise just now, weren't you?" Dylan's voice was faint, his expression unreadable. "I don't like starting trouble, but that doesn't mean I'll stand by while others slander me. Trash like you, who'd just waste ingredients by cooking, shouldn't waste time participating in the Special Grade exam. Go on, run home to mommy's milk."
He ground his heel into the face of the man who had called him a third-rate chef. "I happen to be in a decent mood today, so I can let this slide. But," he continued, his tone chilling, "if there's a next time, I wouldn't be opposed to pulling out your tendons and stir-frying them into a spicy dish—fragrant, crisp, delicious, utterly unforgettable."
Thinking that the exam was about to start and he didn't want to be delayed by such a trivial matter—let them talk, it wouldn't truly affect him—Dylan decided to wrap things up.
"Ah! You f— broke... broke it! Sir, easy, easy! I'm sorry, I was wrong! I was really wrong, please let me go!" the man shrieked in pain and terror.
With that thought, Dylan applied sharp pressure to the man's left and right arms, just enough to bring them to the brink of dislocation, before finally removing his foot. Satisfied, he turned and walked towards the open doorway, joining the main group entering the examination site.
His decisive ruthlessness sent a chill down the spines of those who had spoken ill of him earlier. They avoided looking at him, afraid of becoming his next target and missing their chance in the exam. Those who hadn't said anything merely cast curious glances before refocusing their attention; the Special Grade exam was far more important right now.
...No wonder they say never to bully the quiet ones; they're often the most ruthless!
Upon entering the gates, Dylan expected to find a kitchen setup for cooking. Instead, to his surprise, he was confronted by a towering city wall. The plump elderly man and a voluptuous woman, perhaps twenty-eight years old, appeared atop the wall. The crowd stopped upon seeing the wall, seemingly waiting for something.
'What's going on?' Dylan wondered, momentarily stunned before starting to think. 'Was this part of the Special Grade exam in Cooking Master Boy? I think it might have been... It's been too long, I can't recall clearly.' He halted with the crowd, pondering the situation. Fortunately, the two figures on the wall didn't keep them waiting long after everyone had entered.
"Examinees," the plump old man's resonant voice echoed across the site, reaching everyone clearly, "the test is about to begin now. As per tradition, we will evaluate you based on the order in which you complete the designated dish. The time limit is until this evening. Furthermore, the number of candidates who can pass this test is five. If five qualifiers emerge before the deadline, the test will conclude at that point."
'Five spots,' Dylan mused, stroking his chin as memories surfaced. 'Means faster is better. Right, I remember now. The Guangzhou Special Grade exam seemed to have two stages.' He recalled the scenario from Cooking Master Boy: the organizers first announce a category of cuisine, then a theme. The first five to cook quickly and well advance, and then a winner is determined through an extension of the theme.
This was the so-called Theme Cuisine!
'A good examination format,' Dylan praised inwardly. This method tested both a chef's fundamentals and their innovative capacity – truly killing two birds with one stone. And this was only the first round!
"Now, we announce the theme..."
Two staff members carried over a huge canvas. The plump old man paused dramatically, building suspense. The venue fell silent, filled only with the sound of held breaths.
"BEEF!"
As the first banner dropped, the large characters for "Beef" were revealed, shocking the crowd. Their eyes then darted towards the second banner.
"ETERNAL LOVE!"
The second banner fell. The crowd collectively sucked in a breath. Beef and Eternal Love? What on earth was the connection?!
"What the heck is this?! Past themes were already difficult, but this year's is completely baffling! Beef and Eternal Love – can those two words even be combined?!" a man cried out, scratching his head in agony.
"I give up!" someone else declared in despair, choosing to forfeit on the spot. "This theme is insane! Are the organizers trying to push us to our deaths?! Maybe not a single person will pass this year!" The Special Grade exams were always abstract, but Guangzhou's were notoriously the most outrageous!
"Beef... Eternal Love... Love..." Some immediately started making connections, ideas flashing in their minds, their eyes brightening. Others remained utterly stumped, their faces crestfallen.
'Beef, huh?' Dylan thought, stroking his chin. 'An extremely familiar ingredient. Tying it to love... Western cuisine might handle this aspect more readily. However, presenting Western food at the Guangzhou Special Grade exam would be somewhat disrespectful to Chinese cuisine. Besides, considering its depth, Chinese cuisine surely has dishes that symbolize eternal love. Even if not, one could simply use the properties of cooking to create such a dish.' Numerous classic dishes that could use beef to express love came to his mind. 'This kind of theme, frankly, is mostly about how well you can spin a story and make it convincing in the end.'
"The organizers will provide the beef," the plump old man announced from the wall. "Please prepare your other ingredients before noon, then proceed to the Dou Wei Chang to cook. Present your answer with your finished dish. That is all!"
After delivering this final instruction, the old man left the top of the wall. The suppressed murmurs among the contestants immediately erupted into a full-blown clamor.
"What is this?! I bet there are no spots left, so they're intentionally making it impossible for us to pass!"
"Seriously! My first time taking the Special Grade exam, and I get this kind of theme. What terrible luck!"
"It's too abstract! Can't they just have a straightforward cooking test? Why bother with all this useless stuff..."
While many grumbled like this, even more chefs were already breaking into a run, heading out. They needed to gather ingredients before noon and then return to the Dou Wei Chang to cook. If everything they needed was in one place, it would be fine, but if the ingredients were scattered throughout the market, it would take considerable effort!
"Dou Wei Chang?" a foreign chef asked a nearby Guangzhou chef in halting Chinese.
"The Dou Wei Chang is a specially arranged venue for the Special Grade Chef test," the questioned chef replied. Although reluctant, he figured explaining the name of the place wouldn't hurt, but he didn't offer the exact location. After all, everyone here was now a competitor; one less rival was always better.
"Let's go! Hurry to the market!"
"Go, go!"
Someone shouted the words, and the scene immediately descended into chaos. In an instant, the crowd scattered, leaving only Dylan and two girls behind. This piqued Dylan's curiosity, and a surprised expression flickered across his face as he looked their way.
"Such a difficult theme! My brain cells feel like they're going to explode!" one of the girls exclaimed.
"Don't worry about it," the other girl, Kizaki Taki, said, glancing at her companion's impressive figure with a hint of annoyance. "You're just here for the experience anyway. I'm the real main player! I want to see if Guangzhou's Special Grade exam is really as legendary as they say online. Five out of twenty... seems manageable, doesn't it?" To her, the other girl was merely a supporting character.
"Five out of twenty refers to selecting the five fastest and best chefs from the twenty to participate in the final selection," Dylan interjected, having walked over upon hearing their conversation, correcting Kizaki Taki's misunderstanding.
He recognized them. Kikuchi Sonoka (88th Generation, 2nd Seat, 'Shunka-tei') and Kizaki Taki (88th Generation, 2nd Seat, Spanish Restaurant 'Tasca Sol').
'Although these two only appeared once or twice in the main story,' Dylan thought, 'Kikuchi Sonoka's... exaggerated figure left a lasting impression! I might not remember much of the anime plot, but I definitely wouldn't forget beautiful women with outstanding looks and figures! Kikuchi Sonoka... she was a judge during the Shokugeki no Soma Autumn Elections semi-finals, wasn't she? I remember it was Soma Yukihira versus Subaru Mimasaka. Her reactions while eating were quite... dramatic. Physically dramatic! I didn't see them in the crowd earlier; they must have come in later...'
"What?" Kizaki Taki frowned, her face etched with suspicion. "The materials didn't mention a second round! Aren't normal Special Grade Chef exams just one round?" She wondered, 'Is this guy trying to trick us into giving up just to reduce the competition?'
"The materials don't tell you everything," Dylan said, waving a hand dismissively. "Besides, think about it: when has the Guangzhou Special Grade Chef exam ever produced five Special Grade Chefs all at once? Forget five, sometimes not even one passes! A theme of this level might trouble some mediocre talents, but it won't stump that many people. You two should understand that quite well, right?"
He paused, then added, "Also, if you don't head to the market to buy ingredients now, you'll fall behind. Remember, only five people can advance this time."
With those words, Dylan's figure vanished. Since he recognized them, and they were attractive, he felt inclined to offer a couple of reminders while he was in a good mood.
Consider it an initial deposit of goodwill. Planting a seed now might just yield a sweet, juicy fruit in the future.
_____
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