““Let’s dig in!!””

The lively voices of one hundred children echoed throughout the spacious event hall.

It was the opening of the show.

On the monitor on stage, icons of two ballot boxes were displayed: A 'Sumeragi Foods' and B 'Team Akutsu'.

The children alternated their gaze between the two small plates placed in front of them and then reached out with their spoons.

First was A’s curry.

It was the Supreme Golden Ratio Curry, created by Team Spice by gathering the very essence of scientific expertise.

“Mmm! It’s delicious!”

“It’s sweet and smells nice!”

“It’s way tastier than the curry we usually eat!”

Bright voices rose from all around the venue.

The children’s faces lit up all at once.

With the spiciness toned down and the sweetness of the vegetables and the umami of the meat drawn out to the maximum, the flavor was truly the correct answer.

A model student flavor that would score 100 points no matter who ate it.

The women in lab coats from the development team could be seen letting out sighs of relief.

A flavor loved by everyone.

That was the goal they had aimed for and the pride of the company.

And then.

The children’s spoons reached toward B’s curry.

The jet-black Black Diamond that I had made.

The moment they put a bite into their mouths.

All at once, the children’s movements stopped.

The air in the hall tightened sharply.

“…It’s bitter.”

“It kind of smells weird.”

“Is it burnt?”

Some children frowned deeply.

Some tilted their heads.

There were even children who drank water to cleanse their mouths.

Behind me, I felt Yū catch her breath.

“…Just as I thought. Rejection toward bitterness. The child’s taste-defense instinct is activating.”

“Master…”

Ai grabbed my sleeve uneasily.

So it really was no good.

The hidden ingredient I added, burnt caramel.

That borderline bitterness was depth to an adult woman, but to a child, was it nothing more than a foreign substance.

The employees of Sumeragi Foods exchanged looks with expressions that seemed to confirm relief and victory.

It was over.

Everyone thought so.

At that moment—

Clink, clink…

A faint sound broke the silence.

The sound of a spoon hitting a plate.

“…Huh?”

One elementary school student tilted his head and brought B’s curry to his mouth again.

“It’s bitter… but…”

Clink, clink, clink.

The sound chained together, spreading like ripples.

The children who had said “it’s bitter” somehow didn’t stop their spoons.

With furrowed brows, as if possessed by something, they kept scooping up the black curry.

“…I kind of want another bite.”

“It’s a strange taste, but it might be good?”

“The meat tastes amazing!”

There were no smiles.

What existed was confusion and something surpassing it: craving.

The brain was asking ‘What is this?’ and in order to find the answer, the hands would not stop.

I grinned.

Got you.

That was the trap I had set.

A flavor that doesn’t end with delicious.

A flavor that makes you curious.

A spice called discomfort that leaves claw marks in memory.

‘Come on, brats… honestly answer which one you want to eat again!’

As if responding to the shout in my heart, the children picked up the voting terminals.

* * *

“Voting complete! We’ll begin the count!”

At Reiko’s command, numbers began dancing across the massive screen behind the stage.

DADADADADADA…

At a tremendous pace, the graphs for A and B stretched upward.

‘A: 15 B: 12’

‘A: 28 B: 30’

‘A: 41 B: 39’

They were neck and neck.

Completely even.

The murmur in the hall grew louder.

“No way, that bitter curry?”

“The kids are eating that much…”

“No, but still, Sumeragi Foods should be—!”

The numbers passed 90.

Only a few votes left.

‘A: 48 B: 48’

Four left.

‘A: 49 B: 49’

Two left.

It felt like you could hear every heart in the hall beating rapidly.

I clenched my fist without thinking.

And then.

The final vote was cast.

Thud!!

The final result appeared on the screen.

‘A: 50 B: 50’

“…Huh?”

Someone let out a foolish-sounding voice.

A moment of silence.

Then explosive cries of shock shook the hall.

“A d-d-draw!?”

“That can happen!?”

“It’s a miracle…”

A complete draw.

The votes of the hundred children had split perfectly in half.

The reassuring correct flavor and the stimulating, never-before-experienced flavor.

Those two had perfectly matched.

“…You’ve got to be kidding.”

I looked up at the ceiling and let out a deep breath.

It felt like all the strength had drained from my body.

50 to 50.

The result of my wildness and their science colliding without either giving an inch.

While the excitement in the hall had yet to cool, I walked across the stage.

My destination was the enemy camp, Team Spice’s kitchen.

The women in lab coats were also staring blankly up at the screen, but when I approached, they stiffened warily.

“…Hey.”

I called out to the woman who seemed to be the leader.

“Let me taste your curry.”

She adjusted her glasses with a confused look, then silently ladled curry onto a small plate and handed it to me.

I took it and ate a spoonful.

…

Gentleness spread through my mouth.

The sweetness of the vegetables, the umami of the meat, the aroma of the spices.

Everything had its edges rounded off and blended smoothly together.

There wasn’t a single sharp point.

It was like the sense of security you feel in your mother’s arms.

So this was the correct answer derived from data and science.

I set down the spoon and let out a small laugh.

“…It’s good.”

At my words, the members of the development team widened their eyes.

“There’s nothing to complain about. Anyone who eats this would say it’s delicious… you win.”

“Huh?”

The leader let out a voice.

“W-win? But it’s a draw, isn’t it? The numbers are 50 to 50.”

“No, that’s not it.”

I pointed to my own chest.

“I put my ego on the plate. The desire of a cook who wants to shock the person eating and leave a memory… that’s why I made the kids bear the risk of ‘bitterness.’”

I looked at the pot of A’s curry.

“But your curry has ‘love.’”

It doesn’t choose who eats it.

It leaves no one behind.

Meticulous consideration and kindness meant to make everyone smile, from children to the elderly.

You realized that through the means called science.

“The resolve to make all 100 out of 100 people say ‘it’s delicious’… as a company, I respect that stance.”

I bowed deeply toward the entire development team.

“I learned a lot… thank you.”

The hall fell silent.

The Demon King Akutsu Jō had bowed his head.

Tears overflowed from the eyes of the women on the development team.

They too, had been fighting under immense pressure.

I raised my face and turned toward President Reiko at the center of the stage.

“…It’s frustrating, but this match is my loss.”

I declared it clearly.

“It might be 50 to 50, but to me, it’s a complete defeat… as promised, I’ll grant your wish.”

Sighs and thunderous applause surged from the hall.

A clean declaration of defeat.

In its own way, it looked like a beautiful conclusion.

But—

“—Wait a moment!!”

A sharp voice sliced through the applause.

“…Huh?”

As I frowned, Sumeragi Reiko, who had been standing stage right, approached with sharp clicks of her heels.

Her face wasn’t smiling.

With the hand holding her closed fan, she poked my chest lightly.

“Akutsu-sama… are you truly fine with calling this a ‘loss’?”

“Huh? What are you talking about? I admitted it myself. Any more would just be unsightly—”

“No, what’s unsightly is you!”

Reiko barked.

With her closed fan, she sharply pointed toward the children’s tables.

“Look at that!”

I looked in the direction she pointed.

There were the children who had finished judging.

Some of Sumeragi Foods’ plates were completely empty, others had a little left.

Some children chatted with satisfied looks, saying, “That was good.”

But, my curry’s 'B' plates—

“…What?”

Every single plate was spotless, as if washed clean.

Not only that, several children stared longingly at their empty plates, chewing on their spoons.

And then, one girl began to cry.

“Waaah!! I want more!!”

“Isn’t there seconds!? Mister’s curry, more!!”

As if responding to her voice, others cried out, “Me too!”

That wasn’t satisfaction.

It was hunger.

An instinctive scream demanding more.

“…This is…”

I was left speechless.

“In terms of vote count, it was indeed a draw. In terms of satisfaction, our company’s curry may have won.”

Reiko looked straight at me and smiled daringly.

“But… as a company entrusted with ‘food,’ and as a woman… we cannot boast of victory in front of a dish that has made children this ‘hungry.’”

She opened her fan and hid her mouth.

The atmosphere in the hall changed once again.

A draw?

A loss?

No, that wasn’t it.

This was—

“…Heh.”

The corner of my mouth twisted naturally.

The children’s cries.

The empty plates.

That might have been the 120-point answer I was truly seeking.

“…I see. Then that means this isn’t settled yet, does it?”

“Yes. This match…”

Reiko’s eyes flashed sharply as she declared it.

“We shall proceed to sudden death!”