The day of the decisive battle.

Sumeragi Foods headquarters, the large event hall.

This was usually a venue for shareholder meetings and new product announcements.

But today, the kind of heat filling the air was different.

“—Now then, everyone around the world, thank you for waiting!”

At center stage, bathed in a spotlight, President Reiko Sumeragi raised her voice high.

A microphone was in her hand.

Behind her, the massive screen displayed a live SheTube broadcast.

“Sumeragi Foods Channel Special Program: The Strongest Curry War in History! The Pinnacle of Science vs the Demon King’s Wild Instincts”

The current concurrent viewer count had surpassed two million.

The chat window was flowing past at the speed of a waterfall.

We’ve been waiting, Demon King!
Please implement smell-through-the-screen technology today!
I sold all my Sumeragi Foods stock and put it into super chats!
If he loses, the president grants a wish, is that for real?

Inside the hall, several hundred selected audience members, all employees, had packed in, every single one holding their breath as they stared at the stage.

“And now, the stars of today take the stage! First, the intellectual elite that Sumeragi Foods proudly boasts… Team Spice!”

With Reiko’s introduction, a group in white lab coats emerged from the gate on the right.

Every one of them wore expressionless faces and glasses, with thermometers and tablets in hand.

In their kitchen, state-of-the-art equipment lined up like a laboratory, including a rotary evaporator, a device used to separate and concentrate aromas under reduced pressure and temperature-controlled cooking machines for precise low-temperature cooking.

“And then!”

Reiko’s voice grew even more heated.

“This man knows no such word as impossible! The black charisma of the culinary world who has created countless legends! The entrance of Team Akutsu!!”

With flamboyant background music, the gate on the left opened.

I began walking forward slowly.

Today’s outfit was not a black suit.

A black T-shirt and a black salon apron tied at the waist.

It was a deliberate combat form that exposed muscle lines and veins.

“…Let’s go.”

“Yes, Master!”

“…Perimeter security and cooking support, ready.”

“…Camera’s rolling, big brother, put on a face.”

Behind me was Ai in a frilled apron, brimming with motivation.

Saotome in a black suit and sunglasses, her hair sharply tied back.

And Yū, holding a handheld camera, muttering instructions under her breath.

When we stepped into the on-stage kitchen, the hall was engulfed in thunderous cheers.

On our side were a well-worn stockpot and a blackened wok gleaming with use.

Compared to the opponent’s high-tech kitchen, it was a fully analog formation.

I didn’t take the microphone.

I roared in my natural voice.

“Hey, you scientist ladies.”

My deep bass voice shook the entire hall without going through a mic.

The group in lab coats flinched, their shoulders twitching.

“Looks like you’ve prepared a top-tier lab. But cooking isn’t something you do in test tubes. It’s something you do with pots, fire and heart. I’ll teach you that.”

A provocation.

But it wasn’t empty bravado.

It was my honest belief.

“…Hehe, your mouth is as sharp as ever.”

Reiko spread her fan with clear amusement.

“Then, the time limit is three hours! Let us determine which is the ‘supreme curry’! Cooking… start!”

The gong rang out.

* * *

“Ai, onions! Double yesterday’s speed!”

“Yes!”

“Leave it to me!”

At the signal, our kitchen turned into a battlefield.

Ai’s knife flashed.

Tatatatatatatata!

The sound became a continuous roar as mountains of onions were shredded fiber by fiber in an instant.

“S-So fast!”

“I can’t even see her hands!”

As the crowd murmured, I slammed the massive wok onto the burner.

Whooom!

The industrial high-calorie burner roared, flames leaping up.

I dumped in a huge amount of the onions Ai had chopped.

“High heat! Push it right to the brink of burning!”

Most cookbooks would say low heat, slowly.

But my method was different.

I blasted off moisture at once over high heat and caramelized the sugars.

A chicken race where stopping for even a moment would turn it to charcoal.

I swung the wok.

The several-kilogram pan flew lightly into the air with my arm strength alone.

The onions danced midair, cloaked in flame, then fell back into the pan.

Those arm veins are insane.
I want to be that wok.

Apparently the comments Yū was monitoring were exploding, but I didn’t care.

On the other hand, the enemy camp, Team Spice.

They were quiet.

Eerily quiet.

“Maintain temperature at sixty-five degrees.”

“Minimize protein denaturation.”

“Maximize spice extraction efficiency.”

“Activate the evaporator.”

“Umami component levels as planned.”

“Confirm synergy between glutamic acid and inosinate, two amino acids that enhance savory flavor when combined.”

They didn’t swing their pans.

They stirred liquids in beaker-like containers and gently water-bathed vacuum-sealed meat.

There was no smell.

They were probably calculating to trap all aroma and release it in an explosion at the moment of eating.

…I see.

Rational.

But it lacked passion.

“Saotome, stockpot!”

“Understood.”

The moment my order flew, Saotome moved.

A gigantic stockpot filled with boiling fond de veau, a rich brown veal stock used in French cuisine.

Something even an average man would struggle to lift, she carried over calmly, balancing it with one hand.

“…No way, with that slender body?”

“The Valkyrie Guard is terrifying…”

As the audience gasped, I dumped the contents into the wok.

Juuuwaaaaaah!!

With a sound like an explosion, steam burst upward.

Then I added my blended spices.

Cumin, cardamom, clove, coriander…

Dozens of spices met hot oil and released their souls.

Boom.

A blast of aroma swept across the hall.

“Wha—!?”

“W-What is that smell!?”

“I’m starving…”

The employees all sniffed involuntarily at once.

It wasn’t refined or calculated.

It was a wild scent that shook the brain directly.

“…Tch.”

A woman who seemed to be Team Spice’s leader faltered for just an instant.

Her instincts had reacted to our aroma.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got time to look away!”

I grinned and moved to the final stage.

I pulled out the small bottle containing that black liquid.

The key to victory, completed last night.

“Burnt caramel.”

I poured it into the pot.

Sweet, toasty notes mixed with sharp bitterness.

The curry’s color deepened further, becoming a glossy jet black.

“Simmering complete! Plating!”

* * *

Three hours of fierce battle ended and two curries were complete.

On the table on stage, two plates were lined up.

One was Team Spice’s Supreme Golden Ratio Curry.

Its color was a vivid brown.

The ingredients were cut into uniform cubes, radiating geometric beauty.

The aroma was refined, a classic European-style curry beloved by all.

The other was Team Akutsu’s Black Diamond.

Its color was jet black.

Large chunks of bone-in meat sat boldly, their overwhelming presence and violent aroma intimidating all who saw it.

“…Magnificent. Both are equally outstanding.”

President Reiko fanned herself as she compared the two plates.

“Now then, we will proceed to judging, but…”

She scanned the employees in the hall.

Karen and Hibiki were seated in the front row.

Both wore faces that screamed ‘Hurry up and let us eat.’

“Originally, we planned to hold a vote among one hundred female employees here. However.”

Reiko smiled slyly.

“That wouldn’t make for a fair evaluation, would it? After all, you would vote simply because it’s ‘Lord Joe’s curry,’ wouldn’t you?”

The employees, struck at the heart, averted their gazes with small sounds of “Ah…” and “Uh…”

It was true that my popularity could influence the results.

“In a cooking duel, what matters is only ‘taste.’ If it’s judged by the popularity or looks of the cook, that would be science’s defeat.”

Reiko snapped her fingers.

“Therefore, we have changed the judges at the last minute!”

The massive doors at the back of the stage opened with a heavy rumble.

“Please, come in!”

At that command, they appeared—

Step, step, step.

A group in uniforms.

Elementary school students.

Middle schoolers in sailor uniforms.

High schoolers in blazers.

One hundred in total.

All of them were children under their twenties.

“Wha—!?”

My eyes widened.

Children?

Not company executives or famous food critics?

“Allow me to introduce them. They are students from nearby schools. And pure consumers who don’t care about the existence of the ‘Demon King’ Akutsu Jō, nor the ‘brand’ of Sumeragi Foods.”

Reiko declared triumphantly.

“The condition is a ‘blind test.’ We will not reveal who made which. They will compare Curry A and Curry B and vote purely for the one they find more delicious.”

The hall buzzed.

This was unexpected.

Children’s tongues are honest.

Bias like it uses premium ingredients or a famous chef made it doesn’t work at all.

Only instinctive tasty or bad.

They are the most cruel judges of all.

And children generally dislike bitterness and complex spices.

The bitterness of burnt caramel and the spice I added won’t help here

Elements that adult women could enjoy as depth might be rejected by children as a weird taste.

“…Ha.”

A dry laugh escaped my mouth.

“You really did it, Empress.”

I glared at Reiko.

She returned it coolly with “Oh my, aren’t you confident?”

This was completely calculated.

She had read that my curry targeted adult women and deliberately chose this judging method.

“…This might be bad.”

Yū whispered softly.

“In children’s preference patterns, bitterness is a negative factor.”

“Win probability, significantly decreased. Master…”

Ai looked up at me anxiously.

But, I retied the apron strings.

“…This is interesting.”

I stepped forward.

“A no-holds-barred fight with no favoritism. Just what I wanted.”

I looked over the lined-up children.

They stared at the curries on stage with anxious yet curious eyes.

“Hey, brats!”

My shout made them flinch.

“Are you hungry!?”

The hall fell silent.

Then one elementary school kid timidly raised a hand.

“…Y-Yeah, hungry.”

“Is that so? Then eat.”

I grinned widely.

“You don’t have to think about anything hard. No logic, no fancy talk. Just vote for the one your tongue screams, ‘I want more’ for!”

At my words, the children seemed to relax.

“Yeah!”

“Let’s eat!”

Energetic voices rose.

“Then, tasting begins!”

At Reiko’s signal, the one hundred cruel angels picked up their spoons.

On the right, the crystal of science.

On the left, wild instinct.

The judgment of fate was about to be delivered.