Food Wars: Taste Reversal

On the bus back to school

Because the students in Kojiro Shinomiya's group were late for a long time, the other students also sat in the car and did not depart.

Back on the bus of Guan Shouping's group, Shiraki realized that the person sitting next to him was actually an acquaintance.

"Long time no see, Meat Girl."

After simply saying hello to the other party, Shiraki sat directly next to her, and Mito Yumei, who was staring out the window on the other side, also noticed that someone was calling her that nasty title, and subconsciously frowned. She suddenly turned her head, wanting to see which guy was so impatient.

But as soon as she turned her head, she saw Shiraki, who had just sat in her seat.

"Y-you..."

The word "bastard" that she originally wanted to say choked directly in her mouth. Mito Yumei stretched out her finger and pointed at Shiraki, but in the end, she didn't know what she should say.

"What's wrong with you?"

Shiraki looked strangely at Mito Yumei, who had suddenly lost her voice.

"No, nothing... And don't call me Meat Girl!"

Mito blushed and, in the end, only held back a few words.

Shiraki nodded. "No problem, then let's call you Mito-san from now on."

"Huh, did you mean it?"

Mito Yumei glared at Shiraki next to her, weighing the two titles in her heart, and finally said, "Forget it... Call me whatever you like."

"Then it's still Meat Girl."

Shiraki waved his hand, and while the two were chatting, the bus they were on had started moving slowly.

The students and the lecturers set off on different buses, so Hitoshi Sekimori was not on either bus. The students who had gone through the hell assessment finally had time to catch their breath and began chatting with each other in twos and threes, creating a little 'outing' atmosphere.

However, Mito Yumei was completely speechless after the brief exchange just now. She sat stiffly in her seat, constantly glancing at the young man who was already asleep next to her.

On the other side, on the instructor-only bus:

Kojiro Shinomiya and Gin Dojima got into the bus belatedly. With the arrival of the two, many curious eyes fell on them.

It wasn't that they wanted to see the excitement—it was because the change in Kojiro Shinomiya's temperament was too obvious.

When they set off in the morning, he looked like a gloomy glasses boy, but now he seemed like a different person. Even graduates who weren't from the same class noticed it, let alone Hinako Inui and Mizuhara Fuyumi.

Dojima Gin followed behind with a look of wanting to say something but holding back. As soon as he got in the car, he glanced at Hinako, who immediately stood up and trotted toward Kojiro Shinomiya with a curious face.

"Shinomiya-san... Uh-huh, ahhhhh!!"

Before she could speak, Kojiro Shinomiya, who had already seen her movements, held her head with one hand and pressed her down skillfully. Inui Hinako, who was innocently pressed down, could only retreat for the time being.

Kojiro Shinomiya himself took advantage of this opportunity to walk directly through the aisle and sit down casually.

"Ahhh!"

Inui Hinako, who pulled her head out of the cushion, turned to look at Shinomiya Kojiro, who was already seated. Just as she wanted to continue asking, she saw Shinomiya holding his glasses with an expression of, If you dare to come closer, I'll stuff you into the luggage compartment above.

Unable to argue with him, Hinako gave up and helplessly returned to her seat. She looked at Kojiro Shinomiya and Dojima Gin with curious eyes, regretting that if she hadn't gotten on the bus so early, she could have gone to Shinomiya's cooking room to watch the excitement.

Dojima Gin sighed. Although Shinomiya's mentality had changed, he was still the same person—difficult to deal with.

Still, this new focus on cooking wasn't bad. Better to observe for a while...

All the buses departed one after another, and the graduate bus was filled with a strange atmosphere.

Hinako sat directly next to Fuyumi Mizuhara and began whispering to her.

"Do you think Shinomiya got so angry with the students during the assessment that his brain finally broke?"

Mizuhara glanced at Shinomiya Kojiro, who clearly heard this, and at the blue veins bulging on his face. She quietly leaned back a little.

"You said it, not me."

Shinomiya Kojiro, flipping through a cooking magazine, paused, took a deep breath, and ignored Hinako, who was deliberately provoking trouble.

Only Hitoshi Sekimori, sitting nearby, kept replaying a question Shiraki had asked him earlier during the assessment:

"Can you tell me... where is the examination room in charge of Chef Kojiro Shinomiya?"

He was 100% sure that the reason Kojiro Shinomiya had changed so much was tied to that demon king of a student.

But what exactly had happened?

Halfway through the journey, Sekimori glanced at Kojiro Shinomiya, who was engrossed in cooking, and finally asked softly:

"Shinomiya... Did you meet a student named 'Shiraki' today?"

"Huh?"

Kojiro Shinomiya, engrossed in his reading, raised his head and glanced at Sekimori, nodding. "That's right... Why?"

"Your current change of mentality—it's related to that student, isn't it?"

Sekimori's affirmative tone made Shinomiya Kojiro frown. He did have a good impression of Shiraki, but it was limited to the exceptional dish the student had prepared. He didn't think there was anything special about Shiraki himself.

Seeing his expression, Sekimori continued, "Actually, Shiraki was originally a student in my examination room, but later..."

Sekimori recounted the events of the past two days. When he mentioned the "beef course," his face showed a particularly complicated look.

As a chef, he thought Shiraki's dish was at the level of a god. But as a diner, the dish's dominance over body and mind was unsettling—far beyond the functional boundaries of cuisine.

After listening, Kojiro Shinomiya's skeptical expression gave way to a more serious one.

"Anyway... You need to keep an eye on that student. He... no, my lord... is definitely not as simple as he seems."

After experiencing the overwhelming perfection of Shiraki's cooking, Sekimori could only think of one metaphor:

That was Pandora's box.