Excellent noodles taste great even when boiled in plain water.
This holds true for any noodle type. But plain water alone can become bland after a while. That's why chefs invent all kinds of ways to elevate the experience—methods that bring joy with every bite.
"Burp~"
Erina patted her slightly rounded stomach and let out a satisfied belch, as if she had just indulged in the most decadent dessert.
If she hadn't been completely full, she might've shamelessly asked Zane for another bowl—no, two bowls—of the non-noodle dish.
After a moment's rest, she lifted her head and looked at Zane with a dreamy, half-dazed gaze.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Zane paused, caught off guard by her unusually gentle tone. "Why are you thanking me all of a sudden?"
"I heard about what happened with Ikumi… If it weren't for you, she might've lost that cooking match completely."
Zane chuckled. "That's what you're thanking me for?"
He found it ironic. In his memory, Erina Nakiri was the type who rarely—if ever—bowed her head to thank anyone. In the original timeline, she'd cut ties with Ikumi right after the rice bowl challenge.
But Zane wasn't one to meddle with Totsuki drama. If Soma had walked into the tavern that night instead of Ikumi, the outcome would've been the same.
"Every diner has their burdens," he said. "I just use my cooking to help lighten them, even if just for a while."
"If my food can't reach their hearts or shake their palates, then I still have a long way to go as a chef."
"Whether it's you or Ikumi—or anyone else—I'll use my methods to show you the true charm of cooking."
"Mm… that's all," he finished with a smile.
Erina was stunned. Normally, if someone said something so dramatic to her, she'd roll her eyes and call them pretentious.
But with Zane, his actions backed up his words. He wasn't trying to impress anyone—he just did it.
"Honestly… how can someone be such a fool?" she muttered under her breath, so softly even Zane didn't catch it.
Then, as if coming to a decision, she looked up.
"Zane… are you busy these days?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Why, want to hang out with me?"
"What?! Don't be ridiculous!" she snapped, cheeks flushing red. "I-I mean, residential training is coming up—it's five nights and six days!"
"I can easily pass the exams. And after that, there's a short break…"
"I was thinking… during that time… maybe I could come help out at the tavern. You know, to learn from you, not to be with you or anything like that!"
Her voice shrank as the sentence went on, and by the end, it was nearly a whisper.
Zane smirked and gave her a look. "The heiress of the Nakiri family wants to work at my humble tavern?"
"I just want to improve my skills!" she barked, growing even redder.
He could see right through her—and she probably knew it.
"Well," he said at last, "the tavern's been so busy since the renovations that I can barely keep up. If you're serious, I won't turn you down."
"Don't worry—I won't cause trouble," Erina said quickly, a glint of excitement in her eyes.
"Just remember, here you're not Lady Nakiri," Zane said firmly. "You're just another part-timer. I'm the boss, and you'll follow my lead."
"…I understand," she said after a pause, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
Meanwhile, Hisako, who had overheard the entire conversation, looked absolutely dumbfounded.
The Nakiri Erina—working at a tavern?
But then she remembered how much Ikumi had changed after visiting this place. Slowly, she started to understand.
"Hisako, don't just stand there," Zane called out. "Pay for the two bowls of the non-noodle dish."
"Right away, Lady Erina!" Hisako replied, snapping out of it and hurrying to settle the bill.
Erina turned to Zane one last time. "With the training coming up, I'll be swamped. Tonight might be the last time I can come by until it's over… I hope you understand."
Zane nodded and handed her a warm mille-feuille wrapped in paper. "Here—have something sweet for the road."
Erina blinked in surprise, then accepted the treat with a rare, genuine smile. After a few more words, she left reluctantly, with Hisako trailing behind.
Nighttime.
Crowds flowed like rivers through the city.
Drivers, office workers, students—everyone chasing food and comfort after a long day.
Some just needed something warm to fill their stomachs before bed. Others sought something richer—comfort, flavor, and a little escape from reality.
To them, a tavern could be a sanctuary.
Zane's tavern, now bustling, was packed with unfamiliar faces.
People entered expecting a typical eatery, only to be shocked by the overwhelming crowd, the laughter, the aroma—like a street stall in the heart of a vibrant food market.
Zane, unfazed by the rush, was behind the counter cracking eggs, mixing them with salt, then frying them in oil to a golden sheen.
He placed fried rice at the center of the egg blanket, folded it delicately, plated it, and finished with a rich tomato sauce.
"Here you go—your omurice," he said, serving it with practiced ease before returning to the stove.
During a brief lull, he leaned against the wall to rest his eyes… until a familiar figure quietly slipped inside.
Anne?
He blinked, surprised to see the WGO secretary peeking around the crowd.
She scanned the tavern, then turned to the door and gave a quick "OK" gesture.
Moments later, Mana Nakiri entered the tavern.
Zane's eyes narrowed. She and Anne had probably arrived earlier but held back after spotting Erina.
"Zane," Mana called out, her voice trembling with anticipation.
Her eyes burned—not just with hunger, but desperation.
She had been on the verge of collapse from food withdrawal and had only made things worse after tasting Mukizuki's disastrous duck confit.
Zane saw it all in her eyes—need, pain, longing.
"Just a moment," he said calmly. "I'll cure you."
Then he turned to the stove.
Lettuce. King oyster mushrooms. Shiitake. Bell peppers. Dried tofu. Wood ear mushrooms. Corn. Carrots.
All vegetables—nothing more.
He soaked the mushrooms and tofu, sliced the corn, and prepped each ingredient.
Hot oil in the wok. Garlic for fragrance. Shiitake and wood ears in first, then beancurd and lettuce.
Soy sauce, pepper, cornstarch slurry. Stir-fry. Season with ginger, wine, sugar, and broth.
Add the black moss last. Stir until thickened.
He plated the dish and presented it.
"…What kind of dish is this?" Anne blinked. "There's no meat?"
"Buddha's Temptation," Zane said. "Completely vegetarian—but it tastes like meat."
Anne's eyes widened. She knew of mock meats, but this… this looked and smelled like something far richer.
Mana took a bite.
Winter bamboo shoots met winter mushrooms. Crunch met juiciness. The flavors danced in perfect harmony.
She kept chewing. Then—
"Wait… did I just taste beef?"
Mana's eyes widened.
"No… that can't be. Is my God Tongue failing me?"
Zane chuckled. "King oyster mushrooms, when steamed and sliced thin, mimic beef in both texture and taste. Stir-fried with cumin, soy sauce, garlic—it gives a perfect illusion."
"And," he added, "that illusion can only fool someone if it's done right."
Mana said nothing, but her trembling fingers and stunned expression said it all.
He had done it.
Without exotic seafood or explosive gimmicks—just with vegetables—Zane had satisfied the God Tongue.