Whoosh! A flash of light burst from the bowl of not-quite-noodles. Though the spectacle of glowing food had once been startling, Erina and Hisako had grown used to it by now. After all, they'd seen enough of Zane's cooking to know—this kind of brilliance was just part of his standard.
In reality, there were traditional fish-based noodle dishes across the culinary world—like Macheng Fish Noodles, Lianjiang Fish Noodles, Yangjiang Fish Noodles, Chaoshan Fish Noodles, Changshou Lake Fish Noodles, and Shunde Fish Noodles. Among them, the Shunde variety was especially unique for using no flour at all. It relied solely on flower carp, available year-round. Only the tender flesh along the spine was selected for noodles, while the bones were simmered into a rich, umami-laden broth. The process was so labor-intensive that locals had a saying: "Five pounds of fish for one bowl of noodles."
Zane's version? He'd taken it even further. A dish made from catfish, squid, and snapper—this wasn't just a nod to tradition. It was an evolution.
As the last shimmer faded from the bowl, the creamy white fish broth stood out like a pearl in the light. It was visually stunning and powerfully aromatic—an invitation to dig in.
Erina gently lifted a strand of noodle with her chopsticks. She noticed the tiny squid core at its center and recalled that Zane had hand-packed each catfish-made strand with squid. The level of attention to detail was astonishing. For any ordinary chef, the sheer amount of work would be overwhelming—but Zane? He tackled it with passion.
Slurp. Slurp.
Without another thought, Erina took her first bite.
Pop! Pop! Pop! The noodles snapped apart the moment they hit her tongue, yet their elasticity lingered. It was like they wanted to leap right out of her mouth.
"Hm? This… texture…"
She paused mid-bite. Even with her God Tongue, she couldn't immediately grasp the essence of what she was eating. She took another strand, chewing carefully, elegantly, but with clear curiosity on her face.
At first, she'd assumed catfish alone wouldn't work. Catfish was firm and elastic when raw, sure—but after high-heat stewing, wouldn't it just become soft and fall apart?
Then—click.
Her eyes lit up. "Ah… it's the squid. I was so focused on the catfish that I didn't realize—each noodle blends squid and catfish. Dual-textured. And the snapper? The broth and those little rolls…"
She sat up straighter. "This entire dish is seafood."
An analysis like this would normally bore anyone else—but for Erina, it only increased her respect. The dish wasn't just innovative—it was visionary. Comparable to the Transmigration Spring Rolls, or even the Rising Dragon Dumplings.
The egg's light protein gave the catfish a crispness. Meanwhile, a trace of rice wine had been added during prep—mimicking the taste and aroma of grain-based noodles. It felt like traditional flour noodles, yet not quite. As for the fish aroma? It wasn't a raw, fishy scent. It was the deep, savory tang of fermented fish sauce—an ancient condiment from the Heavenly Dynasty. Records of it dated back over 1400 years to the Qi Min Yao Shu, a classic text on agriculture and cuisine.
The fish sauce—infused with ginger and pickled chili—neutralized any fishy notes from the catfish and enhanced the aroma even further.
"Mmm! Mmm! I won't let a single one escape!"
Erina took several enthusiastic bites in a row, her eyes almost misty from joy.
"This is… amazing! The way the catfish noodles burst with seafood flavor… and the texture, the flavor…"
"No flour, yet it feels like true noodles. This is a full-fledged bowl of seafood noodles!"
When she finally paused, she slowly closed her eyes, savoring the lingering aroma. The snapper broth was rich, slightly salty, with a delicate sweetness that spread across her tongue. Every bite of catfish-squid noodle soaked in that broth tugged at her heartstrings. At first, she tried to maintain her usual grace. But soon, she couldn't help herself. She began eating faster and faster, nearly shoving the noodles into her mouth.
Just the feeling of the noodles brushing her lips, the slippery strands dancing between her teeth—it was intoxicating.
All those flavors of the sea melded into one euphoric wave.
Noodles. To Erina, what defined them was not just taste—but texture. The chewiness, the tension, the fight the noodles put up when slurped in. That resistance, that springiness—that's what made them great.
And Zane's dish? It had all of that, and more.
The memory of those noodles—vivid and exhilarating—would not leave her.
Slowly, she drifted into a fantasy.
She imagined herself in a wetsuit, swimming freely in the cold ocean, weaving through shimmering currents. Schools of snapper surrounded her—red, pink, yellow, even black-and-white striped ones. They were dazzling, surreal. Her surroundings were transparent, pure, and peaceful.
A world like this… it could only exist in Zane's food.
"Wait… it's gone?" Erina blinked. The bowl was empty. Not a single noodle left.
No—wait, there was still a single drop of soup at the bottom.
Her eyes lit up. She immediately lifted the bowl to her lips and gave it a gentle shake, waiting for that last drop to fall in.
Gulp.
She licked her lips, completely content.
Hisako, standing beside her, looked utterly shocked. If the students of Totsuki ever saw their refined goddess acting like this—licking the last drop from a bowl—they'd be speechless.
"Zane… one bowl isn't enough. Can I… can I have another?"
Erina asked softly, her cheeks tinged with pink, eyes hopeful but shy.
Zane gave a gentle nod. "Of course. Just give me a moment."
Meanwhile, over at the Shunkatei restaurant next door…
If Hisako had been just a little more insistent about going into the alley earlier, Erina might have unexpectedly crossed paths with someone she hadn't seen in years—her mother, Mana Nakiri.
But fate had other plans.
Inside Shunkatei, the restaurant's owner Sonoka Kikuchi looked blankly at the trio who had just entered—WGO commissioners, no less. She had no idea why they were there. The place was closed.
Mana, however, was curiously inspecting her surroundings. After a moment, her sharp gaze settled on Sonoka.
Not bad, she thought. Petite, but shapely. Pretty, with a pure, sincere air.
"Anne tells me you're a Totsuki alum?" Mana asked.
"Y-Yes. I'm Sonoka Kikuchi. Former member of the 89th Totsuki Elite Ten," she replied nervously.
"And your last bid for two Michelin stars… Anne didn't approve it?"
Mana fanned herself gently, though the statement was as sharp as a knife.
The comment stung. Sonoka winced but held her composure. "That's correct," she admitted quietly. "And you are…?"
She still didn't quite know who she was dealing with—but the air around Mana was heavy with authority.
"I'm Anne's supervisor," Mana replied with a faint smile.
That clicked.
"Wait… that means… the special commissioner?"
Only one person held that title in the WGO.
When realization struck, Sonoka sprang to her feet.
"N-No way! I'm honored beyond words!"
Mana waved her hand dismissively. "Don't be so nervous. We just stopped in because something happened near the tavern."
Still, Sonoka couldn't calm her nerves. "The number one figure in the culinary world visiting my humble one-star restaurant… It's honestly overwhelming."
Mana smiled. "Truth be told, I've been to the tavern next door several times, but I've never stepped into your place. A shame, really."
"Zane is loved by all," Sonoka replied with a light blush. "Every dish he makes makes people feel truly happy."
"Yes," Mana nodded, "Only those who have tasted his cooking can truly understand how unforgettable it is."
Gurgle.
Mana's stomach let out a loud growl.
She placed a hand over her abdomen, looking a bit embarrassed.
"Tch. This is troublesome… I want to taste Zane's food again…"
Her face turned faintly red. Though she still rejected ordinary food, she couldn't deny it—her cravings were real.
But she couldn't go to the tavern right now.
So, her eyes turned to Sonoka.
"Sonoka, could you prepare a dish for me to taste?"
"Mana, no!" Anne stood up immediately. "Even I find her food mediocre. If you end up vomiting again from bad food—"
"It's fine. I'll just have a small bite," Mana said calmly.
Anne hesitated, then sighed. "Alright… Just this once."
"Making food for a Special Commissioner feels like a punishment," Sonoka mumbled, scratching her head. "My cooking can't even please Anne, let alone…"
Mana gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. No matter how it turns out, it won't affect your rating."
"Alright, then. I'll give it my all," Sonoka said, nodding firmly.
Now came the hard part—deciding which French dish she could prepare that might, just might, impress the WGO's most feared taster.