Chapter 102: Tsundere Always Loses

Mito Ikumi was the textbook definition of a rich girl. While she couldn't compare to someone like Erina Nakiri—the true heiress of an elite culinary dynasty—her family's Mito Meat Company was still the leading force in Japan's beef industry, specializing in high-grade meat products.

Of course, in terms of influence and resources, the Nakiri family operated on a whole different level. If the Mito Meat Company was a powerful foot soldier, the Nakiri family were the generals deciding who got to go to war.

That's how influential chefs were in this world, and it was why Erina instinctively wanted Ryuji to learn how to cook.

After all, as the future son-in-law of the Nakiri family, not knowing how to cook was absolutely unacceptable.

At the very least, he should have a deep understanding of all things culinary in this world.

Ikumi didn't know any of that. All she knew was—she smelled something extraordinary.

It was beef. Unmistakably beef. But the aroma was far beyond anything she had ever encountered.

As the heiress of the Mito meat empire, she couldn't just ignore that.

Her family's dominance in the Japanese beef market was based on one simple fact: their meat was the best.

So if someone—anyone—had better beef than theirs, it was a direct threat to everything they stood for.

She knocked on the door where the scent was coming from. No one answered. But the aroma only grew stronger, richer, more intoxicating.

"What is this beef?!"

Sniffing the air, Ikumi couldn't stop herself from biting her thumb in frustration, her expression tense.

She wasn't usually the type to stress over money, but this—this was her family's entire legacy. And from just the scent alone, she could already tell—this meat outclassed their best product. By far.

And then—

She caught a whiff of burnt meat.

Her eyes flew open in horror.

Burning this kind of meat? In Tōtsuki Academy?! That was a crime against food!

She pounded on the door, harder this time.

"Hey! Hey! Is anyone in there?! Hello?!"

Her knocking sent vibrations through her already eye-catching figure. Inside, Ryuji, who had been listening to music with headphones on, eagerly got up to answer.

He thought—maybe Erina had sent someone. Or maybe... she had come herself?

But when he opened the door, his excitement faded into disappointment.

Which quickly turned into something else.

Standing before him was a girl dressed in an American-flag-themed bikini top, with her school shirt tied at the chest to barely contain her excessively ample breasts and toned stomach. Below, she wore a mini-skirt and boots, her skin a deep, sun-kissed bronze.

Well, not quite bronze—more like a healthy, radiant tan. Her exposed midriff revealed a perfect balance of soft curves and defined muscles, an incredibly seductive combination.

With short blonde hair and sharp mixed-race features, she looked like the type you couldn't help but want to tease—or be teased by.

Even Erina's body, proportion-wise, couldn't beat this girl's natural, athletic allure.

And the most important part? She was clearly sexy—and clearly someone Ryuji vaguely recognized.

"Hello. I'm Mito Ikumi. Sorry for the sudden visit. Were you, by any chance… grilling meat just now?"

She caught Ryuji's smoldering stare and felt her lips twitch slightly in irritation. Still, she bowed politely and asked her question with as much grace as she could muster.

The movement, of course, sent her generous chest bouncing. But to her credit, she wasn't trying to seduce Ryuji—not yet, anyway.

Her outfit? Just something she liked wearing. Nothing more.

But then—

"Can you speak Chinese?"

Ikumi instinctively took a step back, staring in disbelief at Ryuji. He was living in the Tōtsuki dorms, yet he didn't even speak Japanese?

After a moment's hesitation, she asked cautiously,"Do you… speak English, then?"

Ryuji gave her a sheepish smile.

"…"

Ikumi felt a headache coming on. For various reasons, although their family lived close to China, her family had very little real understanding of the country. And due to some complicated circumstances, they couldn't import many of China's agricultural goods—so while they did plenty of business, learning Chinese had never been a priority for her.

Which made this all extremely awkward.

But what baffled her even more was—how did someone who didn't speak English or Japanese end up here of all places?

Ryuji, for his part, looked at the girl in front of him and realized with a sigh—she probably wasn't sent by Erina after all. She definitely wouldn't send someone who couldn't speak Chinese.

And honestly? It was starting to overwhelm him. He was already trying to learn the Arad language, and now he needed to pick up Japanese too? And probably English on top of that?

What kind of mess is this? Other isekai protagonists don't have to deal with this crap…

Ryuji grumbled internally, feeling the weight of his situation yet again.

Fortunately, Ikumi came up with an idea. She pulled out her phone, opened a translation app, and—after a few awkward tries—attempted some Chinese.

"Uh… sorry disturb. Just ask… were you… grilling meat just now?"

Her Chinese was, frankly, terrible. But the effort was sincere—and she even bowed again as she spoke.

Ryuji wasn't a big fan of the whole bowing culture in Japan. It never felt like a genuine gesture of respect—just a reflexive, impersonal formality. The kind of thing people did without thinking.

Still…

There were… benefits.

Watching the warm-toned, tanned curves of this healthy girl bounce with each bow, Ryuji finally understood why Japanese people were so fond of this particular custom.

The depth, the rhythm, the way it moved—truly a blessing.

He silently gave Ikumi a thumbs-up in his heart.

And since she'd unintentionally offered up such generous fanservice, Ryuji decided he wouldn't hold back either.

"Yeah," he said, nodding, "I was grilling. Want some?"

If he remembered correctly, she was one of Erina's associates—an external ally of the Nakiri family. He didn't mind sharing breakfast with a sexy girl like her.

She was probably drawn here by the incredible scent of the meat. But just to be safe, Ryuji added:

"Oh, and—I'm Erina Nakiri's man."

The translated reply made Ikumi breathe a deep sigh of relief.

If he was with the Nakiri family—then all was well.

She bowed again, this time with clear sincerity."In that case, thank you. Please don't worry—Mito Group has always been a loyal ally of the Nakiri family."

She truly relaxed at that point.

The Nakiris only took on the most elite allies. But when they discovered rare or exceptional ingredients, they often handed them off to groups like the Mito family to cultivate them. It was an unwritten rule among Japan's elite food circles.

After all, everyone in the industry ran in the same circles. Their parents and grandparents had worked together. As long as you didn't overstep, that bond of trust was passed down through generations.

If Ryuji had turned out to be from another company—especially a rival—the Mito Group would have reason to worry. They couldn't afford to fall behind if another player had access to something they couldn't replicate.

But if he was Erina's man—and especially if he was this kind of man—it could only mean one of two things:Either he had stumbled upon something amazing…Or he was an undeniable genius.

Ikumi stared at the slightly charred slab of meat Ryuji casually placed on a plate. Her heart practically ached at the sight of such fine beef being mishandled.

But that sealed it for her.

Ryuji was definitely a genius.

If it had just been a lucky find, there's no way someone like that would dare eat meat of this caliber without testing it, preserving it, or documenting it first.

Only someone with the confidence to recreate it would be that casual.

Ikumi looked at Ryuji again—and found her knees pressing together involuntarily.

It wasn't his looks—he was average at best—but if he really was a meat-breeding genius, then...

She might marry this man.

Bring him into the Mito family. Make him their son-in-law. Cement their legacy at the very top of the Japanese meat world.

It wasn't a wild idea. After all, she was the daughter of an old-money Japanese conglomerate. They had land, tradition, power. She was the very definition of an established heiress.

There was just… one problem.

His cooking skills were awful.

Ikumi took one look at the meat Ryuji brought to the table and felt her heart break.

This man's cooking skills were terrible. No, downright offensive.

Just from the seared surface alone, she could tell—he had pulled the steaks off the heat far too early. The browning was incomplete, the Maillard reaction stunted. The flavor potential of the cut had been sabotaged before it even had a chance to bloom.

And clearly, he hadn't marinated the meat beforehand. Not even a dry rub. The sprinkling of spices looked lazy at best, like he'd just waved the seasoning over it and called it a day.

But despite all that—

Despite every alarm bell going off in her head as a culinary expert and heiress of Mito Meat Industries—

Her body wanted it.

Her nose twitched. Saliva pooled in her mouth before she could stop it. Her throat swallowed reflexively.

This shouldn't be happening. The technique was amateurish. The plating was nonexistent. Yet the scent—a rich, deep, primal aroma—was calling to something ancient within her. Something carnivorous. Something feral.

If she didn't have years of training, she'd have thought Ryuji slipped something into the air.

Then—

"Oh, right," Ryuji suddenly muttered. "Almost forgot this."

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled little paper pouch. He opened it, revealing a coarse, earthy blend of spices. As soon as he tore it open, the aroma hit her like a truck.

It was like cumin—but deeper. Toastier. Wilder.

Ikumi's pupils dilated.

She didn't recognize the spice at all. Not from Japan. Not from the West. Not from anywhere in her network's spice supply. It was rustic and raw, yet somehow precise. And worse—it was perfect for beef.

Her fingers itched to grab him by the collar and demand he tell her where it came from. But all she could do was stand there, transfixed, as he dusted the spice over the still-sizzling meat.

"All done," he said casually. "You can eat now."

Ryuji didn't overthink it. This was the Nakiri family's teritory—as long as he wasn't murdering or arsoning, things should be fine. Hell, even if he did commit murder or arson, unless the victim was someone important, he'd probably still walk away unscathed. Such was the privilege of a corporate monopoly's golden boy.

"Thank you very much!"

Ikumi bowed slightly, then—the moment Ryuji took his first bite—she immediately speared a piece of meat with her fork and shoved it into her mouth.

And then—

"Aahhh—!!"

Ikumi realized her mistake instantly. This wasn't just beef. This was meat hell.

Then the world disappeared.

She felt herself drowning in an ocean of carnivorous ecstasy. Every conceivable type of meat flooded her senses—her entire body wrapped in the heavy, warm, searing embrace of flesh, as if she herself were nothing more than a premium A5 meat, waiting to be eaten.

Eat it. Devour it all.

That single thought consumed her. Panting heavily, she tore into the meat from the 7 Days to Die world with ravenous abandon. To Ryuji, it was just delicious food—but to Ikumi, every bite exploded with the essence of countless meats.

Flavors that had no business being in beef. Nuances of cattle she'd never imagined. She couldn't even describe what she was tasting anymore.

If forced to answer?

Meat.

Humanity's eternal craving. The primal courtship offering of their ancestors. The sustenance of survival itself.

She needed more.

The more she ate, the hotter her face burned. The meat-induced hallucinations grew more intense, the pleasure more overwhelming—until her body burned with a feverish heat, as if some ancient memory had awoken.

She was a woman who'd accepted a suitor's gift of meat. And now, instinct demanded the next step...

Two disparate sensations fused together. Her chair rocked as she arched backward, knees trembling under the table—one hand clutching her chest, thighs parting helplessly, the other hand sliding lower—

"Ahhh~ahhh!!"

The moan escaped before she could stop it.

Her scream tore through the room. Ryuji, mid-bite, gaped in shock, his own meat dropping back onto the plate with a clatter.

She wasn't just eating. She was being consumed by the meat.

In that moment, she was no longer an heiress. No longer a chef. No longer human.

She was an animal, lost in the oldest desire of all—meat for survival. Meat for mating. Meat for power.

More. She needed more.

And then—it was over.

As she swallowed the last bite, her body went limp—

Thud.

She collapsed onto the floor. Just as he started to worry about an allergic reaction to interdimensional ingredients—

His eyes landed on her thighs—

Glittering wetness hinted at how deep the pleasure had gone..

Her lips parted slightly, a silvery strand of drool trailing from her tongue.

And most damning of all—

The fierce-eyed Ikumi Mito's gaze had gone utterly vacant. Her mind? Clearly fried.

"..."

"…Are you serious right now?"

He ran a hand down his face, sighing hard.

"What kind of world is this where eating turns into a full-on erotic meltdown?! No wonder Erina's so high-strung. Damn tsunderes."

He looked down at the blissed-out girl, splayed on the floor like she'd just seen God.

"If I wasn't trying so hard to keep Erina from losing the tsundere war, I swear—I'd be hauling you into my room right now."

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