"Yes, a hundred years. So it's either you cook, lose, and hand me a decade of your life… or forfeit and hand me a full century. Your call." Master Fubara shrugged slightly, as if this was the most casual thing in the world.
Kenji stared at the so-called master chef, his mouth hanging open. Bullsh*t! This guy wasn't a master chef—he was a master killer!
With no way out, Kenji sighed. His only hope now was that the meal he was about to prepare would be so good that even this lunatic had never seen anything like it before.
"Judging by your expression, it seems you've made up your mind to just cook for me," Master Fubara said, his gaze slightly sinister.
"You can use any ingredients from that spatial box and the stove over there." He gestured lazily towards a box shimmering with an unnatural glow and a sleek black stove.
Kenji only nodded, afraid that if he opened his mouth, he might blurt out something reckless—like, What the heck is wrong with this world?!
Since arriving in this damned place, his luck had been nothing but a downward spiral.
First, he was kicked out of the so-called Hero's Party, which was just a clique of the king's summoned friends.
Second, he got scammed and threatened by that crazy saleslady, losing a gold coin in the process. Even though he had stacks of them in his spatial ring, it still hurt. Once a businessman, always a businessman—whether it was a single dollar or a thousand, losing money never felt good.
And now, he thought he could chase his dream of becoming a great chef by entering this stupid disciple trial… only to realize that Master Fubara wasn't looking for a disciple at all—he was looking for a victim!
Kenji still wasn't sure if it was really possible to steal someone's lifespan, but in a world where magic ruled, he wasn't about to test that theory.
With that in mind, he walked over to the spatial box and began sorting through ingredients.
Meanwhile, Master Fubara was trying to keep a straight face.
Another one.
Every single person who had stepped into his trial actually believed they were gambling away their lifespan.
The truth? He couldn't steal a person's lifespan—only a Gravestone Relic could do that. But since very few people knew how they worked, he had commissioned a special stone to mimic one.
In reality, it was just a Cleansing Stone, designed to suck out impurities from the body. When placed on someone's head, it created a strong suction force, making them think their life was being drained away.
He had pulled this prank on so many participants over the years. Their terrified faces were always priceless.
But a disciple? Ha! He didn't need one.
He was Master Fubara, the Great Spirit Chef! At a young age of 172, he wasn't passing down his culinary arts anytime soon.
Kenji, on the other hand, finally found the ingredients he needed. Without hesitation, he got to work.
As the scent of rice and curry began wafting through the air, Master Fubara's body stiffened.
And the aroma didn't stop there.
People outside the kitchen caught a whiff, and their reactions were instant.
"Is that the young man's cooking? I've never smelled anything this incredible before!"
"Unbelievable! What kind of dish is this?!"
Murmurs spread throughout the restaurant, and Raphael—Kenji's estranged older brother—looked up from his seat with a knowing smile.
"That scent… It's definitely him."
Crack—!
Something broke inside Raphael's body. His eyes widened in shock.
He had just broken through to the next rank!
Just from the aroma alone?!
And he wasn't the only one.
All around the restaurant, people were suddenly feeling their magical energies surge.
For years, many of them had struggled to advance in rank. The amount of resources needed to break through was so astronomical that most had given up entirely.
But now?
One dish. One aroma.
And they were breaking through.
"There's no way Master Fubara cooked this. I've had his dishes before. They're incredible, but they've never helped people break through."
"Then who's inside that kitchen…?"
At this point, people weren't just curious about Kenji. They were desperate to see him.
Meanwhile, inside the kitchen…
Kenji whistled as he finished cooking, fully enjoying the rich, savory aroma filling the room.
Master Fubara?
He was not okay.
He had just felt himself break through—not once, but twice.
A level he had long accepted he might never cross.
And it was all because of a single meal.
His thoughts ran wild.
If the mere scent of this dish could do this… what would happen if I actually ate it?! Would I—
Thump—!
A loud sound echoed through the kitchen.
Kenji turned off the stove and turned around, only to freeze at what he saw.
Master Fubara…
…was bowing.
Full-body bowing.
"What… the heck… is going on?" Kenji muttered.
Then, Master Fubara's next words nearly gave him a heart attack.
"Oh, Great Master! Fubara greets the Legendary Chef Kenji-san! Please… take me in as your disciple!"