CHAPTER 26

"Lan Fei, you really have so many tricks up your sleeve."

"To think you could make this many dishes from a single Great Stamp—a horned mad pig? That's insane."

Killua couldn't help but marvel as he watched Lan Fei place eight steaming dishes in front of Menchi and Buhara. His envy was clear.

"Lan Fei knows how to cook too?"

Gon was shocked. The two of them had grown up together on Whale Island, running around the forest and fishing, but Gon had never once seen Lan Fei touch a pan—let alone prepare a meal. Even Aunt Mito, who was meticulous in the kitchen, never mentioned Lan Fei having any culinary skills.

Yet here he was, during the second phase of the Hunter Exam—one of the most notorious exams for its absurd challenges—presenting not just a meal, but a banquet.

"Looks flawless," Kurapika murmured, his eyes narrowing.

"This guy's been hiding way too deep."

"Everyone else got eliminated, and only Lan Fei remains. But Menchi… she's crazy strict. Even with all these dishes, I doubt she'll let him through," Leorio added, adjusting his glasses while observing closely.

"He used the entire pig to make a full-course meal. That's impressive."

"But even so… quantity doesn't guarantee quality. Will it match the examiner's palate?"

"Effort is visible, but the result might still be the same as ours."

"Was this a foul?"

"A foul? Come on, the theme was pig. There were no explicit instructions to roast it whole."

"Exactly! You could skin it, debone it, whatever—it's on us for going lazy and basic."

"Bah! Even if you had tried chopping it up, you'd need Lan Fei's knife skills to make it work."

As Lan Fei stepped forward and placed the eight dishes before the examiners, the remaining candidates broke into murmurs. His dishes were vibrant, carefully plated, and steaming with fragrance—not something you'd expect in a brutal test like the Hunter Exam.

"Tsk tsk…"

"Effort, presentation, and precision… this guy didn't just cook, he crafted."

"Sure, it looks good. But how does it taste?"

Unlike the charred, half-raw roasts most candidates turned in, Lan Fei's dishes exuded balance. Menchi, a Gourmet Hunter of the highest level, who once rejected 50 candidates for missing 'flavor harmony,' visibly perked up.

Even Kurapika's hamburger—which was his pride—had only impressed in form, not flavor.

"Menchi, those dishes look like they might be your type," Buhara said with a smirk, licking his lips.

"Presentation's on par with top chefs, and I'd know. I've eaten at all the high-tier kitchens."

Menchi glared. "You'd say that about anything you can chew, glutton."

Lan Fei stepped back respectfully and bowed. "Two examiners, please taste."

There was no arrogance in his voice, just quiet confidence—the confidence of someone who had inherited the culinary secrets of a master chef, perhaps one on the level of Gourmet Hunters like Menchi herself.

"Well, you're the last one left. I'll take a bite—just a bite," Menchi said flatly, but her tone betrayed curiosity.

She reached out with her chopsticks, picked a tender slice from the plate, and chewed.

Then, silence.

Menchi's pupils widened, and her hands trembled as she stared at the dish like she'd seen a divine beast.

"Eh?"

"Is it that bad?"

"Did he mess it up after all?"

"Guess we're all out. No one passed this year."

"No way! Look at her expression—it's too complex for disappointment."

"I wish I could try that dish… Just one bite."

"Knowing Lan Fei, it probably matches her taste to a scary degree."

"He might actually be the only one to pass."

All eyes locked on Menchi. The air hung heavy.

Then—

"TOO DELICIOUS!!!"

"It's insanely good!!!"

"This is the best pork I've eaten in my career as a Gourmet Hunter!"

Her voice was shrill with excitement, completely breaking her icy exterior. The same Menchi who once disqualified examinees for serving improperly seasoned soup now looked like she was on the verge of tears from a single bite.

"Seriously?"

Buhara lunged at the table and scooped up a dish into his mouth.

"Oh my god—this this this—"

"TOO DELICIOUS!!!"

"The texture, the marbling, the fat content—it melts on the tongue like velvet!"

"To think a thirteen-year-old made this out of a Great Stamp? Unreal!"

"This is culinary art. This is mastery. This is the ceiling of the food world!"

Even Buhara, who once devoured 30 dishes in one sitting without flinching, looked like he'd tasted heaven.

"Kid… how'd you do it?" Menchi finally asked, after tasting every single one of the eight dishes.

She wasn't just impressed—she was moved.

Lan Fei simply shook his head with a polite smile. "I'm sorry… it's a bit complicated."

This wasn't a lie—his cooking skill stemmed from a system-enhanced inheritance of a master's techniques, impossible to explain without revealing his secret.

Menchi chuckled wryly. "Figures."

Then she stood and looked directly into his eyes. "You… are qualified."

"What!?"

"Qualified?"

"I don't accept this!"

"Why does this kid pass and not us!?"

"This is unfair!"

"Hundreds of examinees failed, and he's the only one who passed? Rigged!"

Chaos erupted behind them. Discontent rumbled through the crowd like thunder.

Menchi's eyes turned fierce. "You think this is unfair? Then taste his cooking."

"This… this is real food! What you made—that was shit!"

The room went quiet.

She wasn't just defending Lan Fei—she was defending culinary integrity. And for the first time, the failed examinees realized they weren't just being tested on cooking. They were being tested on passion, effort, and respect for food—qualities Lan Fei showcased in every bite.