Chapter 297 – Toward the Final Crown (2)

Bertelgia and Dragoman.

Since these two seemingly unrelated individuals approached him together, Sungchul was stopped from revealing the brooch and looked back and forth between them with a puzzled expression.

Bertelgia soon spoke up. “Lord Dragoman has agreed to let us enter the Colossus!”

“What?” Sungchul replied with a fair bit of panic, to which Bertelgia replied with the brightest and the most enthusiastic tone to ever have existed, “It’s time to earn your keep, Creationist candidate!”

To begin with the conclusion, Sungchul couldn’t ‘earn his keep’ this time.

Bertelgia could not be brought through another Creationist Quest. If he were to do so, then she might truly be torn asunder like Unit 49 had warned him.

The problem was, he also couldn’t explain this to Bertelgia. The truth buried deep in Sungchul’s heart was too heavy for her to shoulder.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, even Sungchul could not help but be thrown into a state of panic.

“Um. Bertelgia.” Feeling his mind becoming as blank as a sheet of white paper, Sungchul awkwardly opened his mouth to buy time.

“Yes?” Bertelgia was still in a great mood.

I have to think of something.

But how? No clear solutions came to mind.

Where are the barbarians when you need them? How come they don’t come invading at times like this?

He was so desperate that even he even ended up praying for a Barbarian or Lesser God to come attack them.

Sungchul Kim, who had survived countless battles, found no answer to this predicament.

Then, a sly voice came from behind. “Excuse me for interrupting, but it seems you have business to attend to. May I be excused?”

It was the chef, Paparupa.

The moment Sungchul heard the voice, a thought flashed through his mind. “Wait a minute!”

Sungchul called out to Paparupa as he was about to leave.

“Mmm? What is it, Commander in Chief?” Paparupa responded with a faint smile, staring at Sungchul.

Still that arrogant face. Normally, he was the type who deserved a flat nose for being so obnoxious.

But right now, Sungchul found himself in such a troubling situation that he needed to rely on this detestable man.

I’ll deal with the consequences for whatever it’s worth. Let’s just get out of this situation for now.

He knew it was a risky move. But there were times in a man’s life when he would have no choice but to take on these chances.

And for Sungchul, this was one of those moments.

In the silence, his fingers pointed directly at Paparupa.

“I challenge you to a duel…!”

A grave statement.

It was a twist no one could have anticipated.

“Hmm? Why are you suddenly going on a weird tangent instead of responding to what I told you?!” Bertelgia fluttered around Sungchul, scrutinizing his face.

Sungchul did his best to maintain a poker face as he replied in a decidedly serious tone. “Sorry, Bertelgia. Right now, I have settle the question of who is the best chef between this friend and I.”

“Eh?” Bertelgia and Paparupa were equally stunned by his statement.

“Excuse me, what are you talking about?”

Dragoman, who had been watching from behind, scratched his head, unable to comprehend what he was hearing.

Sungchul felt a soul-crushing level of shame, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time. But he knew he was already too far in to back out. He couldn’t stop now.

With that thought, Sungchul hurled a significant remark at the unfortunate elf chef.

“You think you’re so great?”

“…Excuse me?”

“We have crossed paths at the Imperial Cooking Contest in La Grange. It seems you don’t remember. Come to the kitchen. Let’s see who is the true master of the culinary arts.”

Sungchul strode briskly toward the dining hall. Paparupa was initially stunned but soon regained composure, recalling a face buried in memories.

Ah, so the Imperial Commander in Chief was that person. The one who had the audacity to critique my ingredients.

A cruel smile played on Paparupa’s lips. Had Sungchul challenged him to a fight, he would have declined, but he couldn’t back down from a challenge in the kitchen.

Perhaps he took up cooking as a hobby. And maybe he was able to gain some shallow level of insight as well. A common amateur mistake to gain groundless confidence. But the world of the pros is not that simple.

He gazed at the shimmering golden dragon brooch on his lapel. A symbol of a high-class chef. This was not something just anyone could receive. Only the best of chefs could earn this mark, a symbol of the highest culinary excellence.

How those stubborn dwarven had chefs bowed their heads and averted their eyes when he displayed the golden brooch before them.

This is my chance to further elevate my reputation.

Paparupa carefully polished his prized golden brooch and then followed Sungchul with a boastful and confident stride.

“Ugh. What exactly are you doing?” Bertelgia remained in a daze, rooted to the spot as if struck by an accident.

“Don’t worry about it, Miss Book.” Dragoman, who was beside Bertelgia, spoke up.

“As long as the Colossus is under my control, I can open it up to you anytime. After all, I’ve used up all the God’s Dirt, so it’s of no use to me anymore.”

Dragoman didn’t think the Colossus would be helpful in battle against the barbarians either. He had brought it merely as a showpiece. Unlike other kings who commanded their own armies, Dragoman was alone.

“Uh-huh. Got it. Anyway, it seems I need to go deal with those idiots now!” Bertelgia bowed deeply to Dragoman and then fluttered her pages as she flew off toward Sungchul.

Dragoman watched Bertelgia’s retreating figure and muttered with a cigarette perched between his lips, “…Looks like even those books have individual personalities.”

Scratching his head, Dragoman looked around. “Besides books, I wonder if there’s any pretty ladies around?” As Dragoman scanned the banquet hall, a woman caught his eye. “The world’s going to end anyway. Might as well enjoy it to the fullest.”

With a sly smile, Dragoman approached the woman.

Meanwhile, a fierce cooking competition was beginning in the dining area.

The judges were the immortal Arkaard and his two sons. They were chosen as judges, representing the typical dwarves of the dwarf kingdom.

Paparupa immediately raised an objection.

“Seems they are your acquaintances. Wouldn’t that put me at a disadvantage?” Despite his objection, an air of arrogance was evident on his face and in his demeanor as if he didn’t care one way or another.

Paparupa was confident he would win, as long as no overly unreasonable foul play was involved, no matter the judges.

He certainly doesn’t lack confidence, Sungchul thought as he replied, “I think there won’t be any problem as long as we don’t disclose who made what.”

It was to be a blind test.

Paparupa agreed to this and further discussed the theme of the cuisine for the upcoming contest. “Today marks a significant occasion, and a feast is underway to celebrate such a momentous day. I propose we each cook something that best suits a banquet.”

Sungchul had no reason to disagree.

Moreover, Paparupa proposed another idea.

“How about we use ingredients freely? The ordinary supplies in a Dwarf’s rustic kitchen hardly suffice to bring out the best in my cooking.”

This, however, was a difficult proposition for Sungchul to accept. For the past few months, he had lived solely through battles, cooking only when he found the occasional free time.

It had been ages since he had gathered exquisite and fine ingredients. Currently, the spice box stored in his soul warehouse was nearly empty as well.

Paparupa, a first-class chef who owned a massive restaurant in La Grange and had won the Imperial Cooking Contest, had ready access to excellent connections and sources. He likely had access to far superior ingredients than Sungchul could ever hope to obtain.

Given that the most crucial element in determining the flavor of a dish was the quality of the ingredients themselves, Sungchul was at a distinct disadvantage when considering Paparupa’s proposal.

“Hmm.”

As the silence stretched on, an uninvited guest appeared in the kitchen. It was Bertelgia, who came chasing after Sungchul. “I was wondering what you were up to, and this is what you were doing.”

Sungchul didn’t dare look at Bertelgia.

She circled around him before sighing and slipping into his pocket. “Well, you have your circumstances too, I suppose. It’s up to someone as generous as me to understand.”

Hearing this, a bright smile appeared on Sungchul’s face.

“…Bertelgia.”

“Well, I already know that there seems to be very few things in life as important to you than that damn cooking. So, don’t mind me, go ahead and indulge yourself. I’m going to take a nap or something.”

Meanwhile, Paparupa, who was observing the scene, crossed his arms and spoke in a sly voice to Sungchul.

“I’m sorry, but, Commander in Chief, I didn’t get an answer to my earlier question.”

“Ah, you mean about the ingredients?”

“Yes. From what I can tell, if we were to compete using only the ingredients available in this kitchen, we would only be able to produce something around fifty points or so. If you have the Chef class, you understand what I mean by points, right?”

Paparupa still didn’t know that Sungchul was carrying the diamond brooch, and he thought about just revealing the brooch then and there. But that was when he suddenly recalled something from the past.

It was the voice of Androa, known as the Primordial Dragon, the overseer of the Chef class.

“…Each race has their own taste preferences. The symbol of the ultimate chef, the diamond brooch, will shine more brilliantly each time it satisfies the taste of a different race.”

That single sentence was like gospel to Sungchul, and he stared at the overconfident Paparupa.

“Let’s do that.”

The answer, after much hesitation, was surprisingly brief and resolute.

“Are you sure?” A satisfied smile appeared on Paparupa’s face. The certainty of victory already sparkled like starlight in his eyes.

“I must inform you in advance, even if the distinguished Imperial Commander in Chief requests it, I cannot share my ingredients.”

“I shall not resort to such ways.”

Thus began the duel between the pride of two chefs.

The cooking scene, which was a battle in itself, was dominated by Paparupa from start to finish.

He expertly and artistically prepared and mixed countless exotic and exquisite spices gathered from all over the world in a method that was better described as an elegant sword dance performance rather than mere preparatory work for a meal.

Meanwhile, Sungchul was the very definition of stillness.

He was preparing a simple dish of roughly chopped pig’s trotters, nonchalantly throwing them into a pot and occasionally poking the meat with a skewer to check its readiness, a stark contrast to the elaborate cooking of Paparupa.

“You seem like you’re going to lose,” Bertelgia suddenly quivered, having woken up from a nap and warned with a shiver.

Sungchul remained utterly unfazed.

“Apasong!” Paparupa let out a strange shout before he began pounding at the cutting board that gave off a sound reminiscent of a machine gun.

But Sungchul gave it no mind as he calmly boiled potatoes and lifted the meat to place in the oven, waiting leisurely for it to cook.

He used ingredients found solely in the Dwarf Court’s kitchen, not a single item from elsewhere.

When the two chefs’ dishes took shape, at least in Bertelgia’s eyes, the winner seemed clear.

Paparupa’s dish was a masterpiece featuring vividly colored vegetables and meats cooked in various ways, creating a dragon-like shape that pleased both the eye and the palate.

Mmm. That Elf. He was asked to cook, and he instead makes a masterful work of art. Meanwhile, our Creationist candidate…

Pork feet with potatoes.

That was all.

Paparupa glanced at Sungchul’s dish and snickered, murmuring something to his assistants, and laughter burst among them.

To ensure fairness, two dishes were presented to the judges simultaneously.

The reaction was exactly as Bertelgia had predicted.

The Arkaard father and son were surprised by the cuisine of Paparapa, but showed indifferent reactions to Sungchul’s cooking.

Naturally, their forks first went to Paparapa’s dish.

“Oh wow. What is this taste?” The dwarves looked as though they had received a shock, and their forks moved frantically.

“Father, aren’t you eating too quickly? You’ll get indigestion.”

“It’s okay! I know my own body!”

In the blink of an eye, all of Paparupa’s dishes had disappeared.

Given that it was fine dining, the small portions vanished almost instantly.

“Dwarves are so uncultured.” Paparupa chuckled and offered his dish to Sungchul. “I hesitate to say this, but it seems I’ve won. Would you like to try my cooking?” Paparupa presented a plate adorned with a colorful dragon, and Sungchul tasted the dish silently. A sparkle appeared in his eyes.

Quite excellent cooking indeed.

[ The score of this dish is… 82 points!]

[ It’s the work of a strong contender.]

Even the overseer of the Chef Class granted the dish a high score.

Meanwhile, Sungchul’s cooking score was significantly lower.

[ The score of this dish is 52 points.]

[ The basics are there, but it’s crude.]

Paparupa managed to reach this point using the power of his ingredients alone. If this was the end of it, then it was clearly Sungchul’s defeat. But this was actually just the start.

“It’s not enough.”

Arkaard smacked his lips as he finally turned his attention toward Sungchul’s dish for the first time.

It was an extremely ordinary dish, and Arkaard looked skeptical as he used the fork to bring the first bite of Sungchul’s dish to his lips.

“Hmm?” Arkaard’s expression was difficult to read. He reached for another forkful, taking in yet another bite of Sungchul’s pork feet dish.

“It seems as though you were unsatisfied with the quantity. May I bring you another plate of the dish?” Paparupa realized what the Dwarves wanted and asked in a soft voice.

However, something completely unexpected happened.

“No, it’s fine,” Arkaard said this as he looked around and then called out, “Beer! Bring the beer!”

Once the beer arrived, Arkaard quickly emptied the giant mug in one go before seriously beginning to ravenously devour Sungchul’s dish at an incredible pace.

Seeing their father’s reactions, his sons tasted Sungchul’s cooking and showed the same reaction.

“Beer over here too!”

The rate they ate through the food was better described as vacuum suction and inhalation rather than chewing and swallowing. Although they had enjoyed Paparupa’s cooking, there wasn’t nearly a strong reaction as now.

It was obvious to anyone watching that the dwarves were clearly enjoying Sungchul’s cooking.

Paparupa muttered in dismay, caught off guard by the unexpected turn of events. “How can this be? In taste, aroma, and technique, my dish should be superior in every way imaginable!”

The fork of the Arkaard family did not stop.

“Oh. So, this was a dish made by the Imperial Commander in Chief!”

Finally, Sungchul approached Paparupa to do something he had so dearly wanted for so long.

He fluttered open his jacket.

As it did, a hidden diamond brooch sparkled brilliantly in the light.

“U… Uwah!”

Paparupa covered his eyes with his hand as if he couldn’t bear the light and turned his head away. But he had seen it clearly.

The color of the brooch possessed by Sungchul.

“Could it be…?! The legendary… Master Chef?!”

His pupils were trembling as if shaken by an earthquake.

Sungchul spoke to the trembling Paparupa in a calm tone.

“The truly delicious meal is not born out of overwhelming or brute-forcing with superiority of ingredients. It is made when you can match the food you make to someone’s preferences.”

It was so.

The ingredients Sungchul used were those that were already available in the dwarven kitchens. He referenced their methods of cooking so he could take lessons on their traditions and preferences. And by mixing that with the highest level of skill and understanding of those who were about to eat, he could bring about momentous improvement to the enjoyment in those who were meant to dine on his food.

“The victory goes to the Commander in Chief!” Arkaard, who had been voraciously devouring his meal, raised his beer mug high as he shouted.

Sungchul’s diamond brooch of the Master Chef emitted an even stronger light then ever-before.

[ You have satisfied the palate of another race – the Dwarves.]

[ A new-found radiance has been added to your culinary soul.]


1 more is out!

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