Anime Collector: Starting With the Malevolent Shrine-Chapter 204 ⟴ The Culinary Competition Judge, Kishibe

News of the culinary competition spread like wildfire, stirring excitement among the world's top chefs — including those who operated in the shadows.

In an unnamed restaurant, a red-haired youth with white bandages wrapped around his head stared quizzically at his father, who sat deep in thought.

In Sōma's memory, his father had always been carefree and nonchalant since they'd opened the Yukihira Diner. Yet after receiving a phone call this afternoon, his father had fallen into an unusual silence, as if contemplating a life-changing decision.

"Dad, what are you thinking about? Don't think on an empty stomach. Here, try this dish I just prepared for you."

He brought a ceramic bowl to his father's side, but the contemplative man paid no attention to it, focusing instead on his son.

He had kept this boy by his side for many years now, and though he hadn't formally taught him any profound culinary techniques, everything had naturally become part of their daily lives.

Despite Sōma's culinary talent, he needed more experience to refine his skills. Perhaps it was time to let him venture out on his own.

"Hey, Sōma... do you want to become stronger?"

"Huh? Aren't I already strong? Except for that Daiki guy who came last time, I've never lost to anyone my age."

Sōma scratched his head. That guy was really annoying — he'd promised to return but had completely disappeared.

Jōichirō's mouth twitched at the corner, knowing full well how limited his son's perspective was — his food was still far from true cuisine.

As for that Daiki... his culinary skills had exceeded expectations, and Jōichirō wondered if he would participate in this culinary competition.

'With power rivaling ancient Demon Lords, surpassing the peak of Sorcerers, with vast Cursed Energy that could even lift a massive mountain range...'

Jōichirō pondered the TV reports about Tokyo's mysterious earth dragon; he had dismissed it as just a rumor, as it seemed too far-fetched.

"You haven't lost because you're strong — you've won because your opponents weren't professional chefs."

"Hm? Dad, are you suggesting I should compete against professionals?"

"More or less — mainly people around your age, though some might be a bit older."

Given Jōichirō's culinary level, he naturally wouldn't participate in the culinary competition; he and others like Gin Dōjima were designated as main dish judges.

"..." Sōma rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Inheriting the Yukihira Diner had always been his life's dream; the diner life was his everything.

"If you're interested, I've signed you up for a culinary competition. It will help you see the world through a chef's eyes."

Jōichirō raised his phone screen, showing his son the competition details — a celebration for chefs worldwide!

Only by participating in such a prestigious event would Sōma recognize his limitations and seek out more culinary experiences in the vast unknown.

"Dad, how legitimate is this competition? There are no entry requirements at all — could there be some ulterior motives?" Sōma found it suspicious, "Wouldn't strict conditions be more normal?"

"This is organized by the Japanese Cabinet — how could there be ulterior motives? Some things aren't for you to know."

"Well, alright then. In this sketchy competition, if Daiki participates, I'll take second place. If he doesn't, I'll win first place."

Updat𝓮d from freewēbnoveℓ.com.

Looking at the smug kid, Jōichirō didn't explain — unless his son hit a wall himself, he would never understand regret.

"Since you've said it, you better follow through! I'm not expecting first or second place — just making it to the finals would be enough."

"Hahaha, if I can't even place in the competition, I'll stay in the diner forever and never step out for the rest of my life!"

Jōichirō smiled helplessly, "Alright, I've been thinking all day and I'm starving. Give it here — if I don't eat soon, I'll die of hunger."

As he spoke, he grabbed the ceramic bowl from Sōma's hands, giving it a quick glance — century egg and lean meat porridge, he didn't think much of it.

"Pfft!" After one big gulp, his expression instantly changed and he spat it out, "What kind of porridge did you make?"

Sōma explained proudly, "Century egg, strawberry sesame sauce-wrapped squid legs, and lean meat porridge. I also added fermented herring juice and intestine sashimi — and perfectly sealed all their flavors on the surface."

Jōichirō broke into a cold sweat. Thank goodness he was the one tasting this dish. If it were the judges, they might have their entire family wiped out.

"You did well, but don't make this again when you participate in the competition."

With that, he dumped the bowl of dark cuisine.

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Meanwhile...

Top chefs from around the world had received invitations — even the hidden late-night chefs would participate in this feast.

Asahi Saiba, the leader of Les Cuisiniers Noirs — the Midnight Chefs — smiled confidently. With his skills, who could compete with him?

"A Demon Lord? How absurd. Let's see who's more formidable — the Demon Lord or my culinary skills!"

Without delay, Asahi led his Midnight Chefs to book tickets back to Japan for tomorrow. He aimed to achieve his goal by controlling the Demon Lord's taste buds!

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The Cabinet Prime Minister had also selected qualified judges for the culinary competition, including the Strongest Devil Hunter, Kishibe.

"Hey, why do I have to be a judge too? I don't hate food, but having me evaluate cuisine, isn't that a bit..."

Kishibe stood there with bandages on his legs, leaning on a crutch, feeling that his current condition wasn't suitable for being a judge.

The Prime Minister stated frankly, "You don't need to know how to evaluate food — as long as your eyes work, you're qualified to be a judge for this competition. This culinary competition has just one criterion: being good-looking is enough to qualify. As for the cooking, as long as it's not too outrageous, it's fine. All other chefs, regardless of how their food tastes, are to be eliminated!"

Kishibe's face darkened — a culinary competition that ignored food quality and focused on the chefs' appearances? What else could this be but corruption?

"Isn't this too cruel to those young chefs..."

"Kishibe, about your previous desertion — Makima told me if you mess this up again, you're dead."

"I... that time I just had a cigarette craving and went to buy some... Fine, I'll let these young chefs see how harsh the adult world can be."

After a moment's hesitation, Kishibe conceded, resolving to show these chefs that the world was ultimately ruled by strength.

He silently mourned for the hardworking chefs.

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