Black hair.
Sharp eyes.
A calm, handsome demeanor that drew people in effortlessly.
Under the soft lighting of the pub, Zane's presence stood out. His features, seemingly carved by the gods, radiated a quiet confidence that made it hard to look away.
Mana's gaze locked onto him.
Her expression, initially neutral, grew colder—piercing. The overwhelming pressure she unleashed was akin to a wild beast—a top predator asserting its dominance.
But Zane didn't flinch.
His eyes met hers, steady and firm.
In that moment, an invisible clash unfolded between them. The air grew thick with tension, the kind that made the hairs on your neck stand up. The kind only found when two powerful forces collide without words.
Mana's eyes narrowed.
"…Impressive," she murmured. "You can endure this kind of pressure?"
As the sole Chief Executive of the World Gourmet Organization—and a bearer of the God Tongue—her presence alone was enough to bring most chefs to their knees.
But not him.
Zane stood there, unshaken.
Mana's fierce aura slowly subsided, and the corner of her lips lifted.
"Well done. As a chef, if you cower before power or reputation, you'll never achieve greatness."
"No wonder your cooking impressed Anne."
With that, she allowed Anne to help her into a seat. The pub had technically closed, but judging by Mana's demeanor, she had no intention of leaving anytime soon.
"You're Zane, yes?"
He nodded as he finished sorting receipts.
"…That family name," Mana muttered. "Zane… that's a distinguished name from China."
She leaned back slightly, tapping her folding fan against her palm, reminiscing.
"In all my travels, China remains one of the most culturally rich culinary regions in the world. Thousands of years of history, unmatched culinary depth."
"But these days…" Her tone turned sharper. "There are so few Chinese restaurants recognized with WGO star ratings."
"Only two," Anne interjected softly.
Mana nodded. "Yes. Only two three-star establishments worldwide fall under Chinese cuisine. The lowest representation of any major culinary style."
She scoffed, clearly displeased.
"China has countless chefs with potential. But too many of them chase expansion—profit—above all else. They don't promote the spirit of Chinese cuisine. They chase commercial success and forget their cultural duty."
She paused, her gaze turning back to Zane.
"So tell me. Did you come to Japan to open this pub because you were disappointed with the culinary scene back home?"
Zane didn't answer right away.
Instead, he casually set the receipts aside and let out a contented sigh. "Heh. Business today exceeded expectations."
Only then did he speak up.
"Chinese cuisine doesn't lack skill. It lacks packaging."
"It emphasizes practicality over presentation—so in the eyes of the world, it's considered less refined. Less 'elegant.'"
"But what people forget is that elegance exists in the details."
"The seasoning in a century-old broth. The flavor embedded in aged ham. The care in the cut of every vegetable. Behind each of these are generations of chefs—crafting, perfecting, innovating."
He turned slightly, voice calm but cutting.
"You speak of greed—but that's not unique to Chinese chefs. Every culture has chefs chasing fame over art."
"And you say Chinese food lacks recognition?"
"Well, then when the WGO finally has Chinese executives making the calls, then we can talk about fair star ratings."
Mana's smile vanished.
Her eyes sharpened like daggers—but she said nothing right away.
Because… Zane wasn't wrong.
Every WGO executive was a foreigner. Not a single one hailed from China.
It was a subtle, unspoken bias woven into the very structure of global culinary recognition. No matter how fair the system claimed to be, it was always influenced by the lens of those at the top.
If Chinese chefs were the ones setting the standards, how many Western dishes would fall short?
Mana let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
This man…
Zane.
He was more insightful—and dangerous—than she'd expected.
"You have a point," she said at last. "There is subjectivity in WGO ratings."
"But one thing I can say with confidence—every executive, regardless of background, is among the best in the industry."
She paused, folding her fan.
"In Japan, for example, there's a sushi chef who's held three stars for over a decade. He massages octopus by hand for 40 minutes to bring out the perfect texture. That's the kind of dedication we reward."
Zane chuckled.
"And yet… wasn't he the same chef who, over time, lost all desire for innovation?"
"Eventually, he stepped away from the stars altogether. Gave it all up just so he could finally make something as simple as fried chicken again."
Mana blinked. "Resigned… from the stars?"
It sounded ridiculous.
But Anne stepped forward. "It's true, Madam Mana. He submitted his resignation request earlier this year."
Mana: "…"
She stared blankly for a moment, genuinely stunned. Then a small laugh escaped her lips—quiet, amused, thoughtful.
"…Fascinating."