The Strongest Monster in Totsuki

Late at night, under a canopy of starlight, the tavern was winding down for the evening.

As the last few guests trickled out, Megumi was also preparing to leave.

"It's rare to see you stay this long, Megumi," Zane remarked with a small smile as he wiped down the counter.

Megumi smiled shyly, holding her bag close to her chest.

"Owner… talking with you is always so calming. And every time I watch you cook, it just… puts my heart at ease."

She paused, glancing toward the door. "If it weren't so late, I'd probably still be here."

She bowed politely, having already paid her bill, and turned to leave.

"Wait," Zane called out casually. "Don't go just yet."

He stepped into the back for a moment, then returned with five exquisitely wrapped wagashi—delicate traditional Japanese confections. The packaging alone looked like something out of a luxury boutique.

"Here. Take these with you. Just make sure you eat them tonight, not tomorrow."

Megumi's eyes widened.

"Eh? Are you sure…?" She instinctively covered her mouth, overwhelmed by the unexpected gift.

At first, she wanted to refuse—this was too kind. But one look at Zane's calm, steady gaze, and her resistance melted. She gently reached out and accepted the wagashi with both hands.

"It's just sweets," Zane chuckled. "No need to act like you owe me your life. You're giving me goosebumps over here."

Megumi laughed, a little embarrassed, but her heart warmed deeply.

"Still… thank you. Really." She bowed again, her voice soft but sincere.

"Make sure you work hard," Zane added, giving her shoulder a light pat. "The first school assessment is coming up soon. Aim to pass it with confidence."

"Yes!" Megumi said with a nod, her eyes suddenly glistening with unshed tears.

Over the past year at Totsuki, she'd endured so much—mockery, pressure, doubt. Her grades were poor, and many had written her off as a dropout waiting to happen.

While her dorm mates at the Polar Star Dorm—Yuuki, Ryōko, Satoshi, Zenji—were kind and supportive…

Zane was different.

He never coddled her. Never looked down on her.

He simply believed in her.

That belief made her feel stronger. But it also added weight to her heart—she couldn't bear the idea of letting him down.

"Thank you again, Owner… I'll definitely work hard."

With one last grateful smile, she finally left the tavern, her steps lighter than when she arrived.

Not long after Megumi's departure…

"Director?"

A surprised voice echoed as a large man in a black suit stepped through the door. "What brings you to a small place like this?"

With the semester at Totsuki just beginning, the famed Residential Training Camp—a brutal rite of passage for all new students—was fast approaching. Gin Dojima, the General Affairs Head Chef at Totsuki Resort, had been summoned for preparations.

But instead of a meeting room or elite restaurant… the Director had brought him here.

To a modest, wooden tavern tucked away in the city.

A tavern.

It wasn't even comparable to the five-star resort kitchen Gin ran. The contrast was absurd.

The more Gin thought about it, the more confused he became.

"Director…" he said slowly, trying not to sound disrespectful, "is this really the place you wanted to visit?"

Senzaemon Nakiri stroked his beard and gave a low chuckle.

"Don't underestimate this tavern."

"Men like us are always constrained during formal occasions. But here… with a little sake and some good food, we can let our guards down. Speak as people, not positions."

He paused, his gaze sharpening.

"And more importantly—I wanted you to meet the owner."

"You'll understand after tasting his food. Use your own instincts, Gin. That's all I ask."

With that cryptic remark, the Director stepped inside, leaving Gin to stand on the threshold—still skeptical, but now deeply intrigued.

Inside, the atmosphere was quiet and relaxed. Low lighting, wooden fixtures, faint aroma of grilled fish and rice lingering in the air.

Zane stood behind the counter, wiping down a sake glass, calm as ever.

"Zane," the Director greeted warmly. "Still busy, I see."

"Hm?" Zane turned, eyebrows lifting slightly. "A rare guest indeed. It's been a while, Director."

"You want sake or shochu tonight?"

"Two bottles of sake."

"Two?" Zane blinked. Then his eyes shifted past the Director to the man entering behind him.

Gin Dojima.

Even before Zane saw the man's face, the air changed.

The tailored black suit, the glint of a gem-studded belt buckle, the solid, commanding presence—this was a man who didn't just walk into a room. He claimed it.

As he stepped forward, the rest of the tavern quieted instinctively, all eyes drawn to him.

Zane studied him carefully.

If there was anyone in Totsuki worthy of being called a monster of culinary mastery—it was this man.

He had not expected both of them to come tonight.

"Zane," Senzaemon said as he sat down, "this is Gin Dojima. Head Chef of the Totsuki Resort and the top graduate of the 69th class."

"Even now, no one has surpassed his record."

Zane gave a slow nod. "I've heard of him."

Gin took a seat beside the Director, his sharp eyes locked on the man behind the counter.

What surprised him… was Zane's composure.

Not even a hint of tension.

He wasn't flustered by the Director's presence. Nor intimidated by Gin himself. Instead, he treated them like any other customer.

That confidence wasn't arrogance. It was something else—something deeper.

This guy… Gin thought, a spark of curiosity igniting. He's not just talented. He's unshakable.