Kael's arrival drew several curious glances. Among those present, three people recognized him imdiately: Erina Nakiri, Hisako Arato, and Senzaemon Nakiri.
All three had seen his file beforehand, so the mont he stepped into the tent, they knew he was the transfer student representative.
"Director!"
Satoshi Isshiki greeted politely when he spotted Senzaemon.
"Ah, Isshiki," Senzaemon replied with his usual calm authority. His gaze shifted toward Kael. "And this must be our transfer student representative. A pleasure to et you, Kael-kun."
Despite his title as the "Demon King of Cuisine," Senzaemon Nakiri wasn't the type to act lofty or unapproachable—especially not when speaking to soone like Kael.
Kael's admission to Totsuki hadn't gone through normal channels. It was one of the system's rewards—an automatic qualification bypassing the entrance exam. To make the story plausible, the system had fabricated a deceased ntor for him: a renowned chef who'd once been on friendly terms with Senzaemon.
Before his "death," this fictional ntor had written a personal recomndation praising Kael's extraordinary talent. Out of respect for his old friend—and curiosity toward the student who'd earned such praise—Senzaemon had approved Kael's enrollnt without question.
"An honor to et you, Director."
Kael bowed slightly, his voice steady. He didn't flinch or fumble the way most students would in front of Totsuki's most powerful figure.
He already knew the man's character. Senzaemon held a position of imnse influence in Sakura, but unlike many patriarchs of great families, he wasn't cold or ruthless. He valued his kin above all else—and that alone was sothing Kael respected deeply.
Most prestigious families put legacy above everything. They'd sacrifice emotion, loyalty, even blood ties to preserve the na. The Arato family was proof of that—they'd offered up Hisako Arato to serve as Erina's aide purely to secure favor with the Nakiris.
Luckily, Erina's nature wasn't cruel; she'd co to treat Hisako as an equal, even a sister. If Erina had been the vindictive type, Hisako's life would've been miserable.
And yet, Senzaemon had never treated his granddaughter as a re tool. He could've easily exploited God's Tongue, forcing Erina into a life of culinary servitude the way his own daughter Mana Nakiri had been pushed to the brink.
Instead, when Mana's God's Tongue spiraled out of control, he'd devoted himself to finding a cure rather than repeating history.
In the Nakiri family, possessing God's Tongue ca with restrictions. Those with the ability weren't even allowed to enroll at Totsuki normally; the academy's endless sensory training was known to accelerate the degeneration of their power.
That was the core difference between God's Tongue and Kael's Four Divine Senses.
The Divine Senses were absolute—each sense already pushed beyond human limits, with no risk of burnout. God's Tongue, on the other hand, grew stronger only through continuous refinent. It wasn't perfection—it was a climb toward it.
That's why Mana Nakiri had left the academy to develop her ability in the outside world, eventually becoming the WGO's sole Special Executive Officer.
When Senzaemon later decided to send Erina to Totsuki, he'd done so under imnse pressure. The Nakiri family wasn't a dictatorship—no matter how powerful he was, he couldn't silence every opposing voice without tearing the family apart.
He couldn't stop Erina's training entirely, but he could slow it down. That was his way of buying ti—of protecting his granddaughter from the fate that had consud her mother.
It was that kind of devotion that Kael admired. Family over ambition. Humanity over legacy.
At the sa ti, Senzaemon found himself quietly impressed.
Most students either trembled or froze in his presence. Even mbers of the Elite Ten—students used to his company—showed so asure of unease. But Kael stood calmly, posture straight, eyes clear, not the slightest hint of fear or flattery.
For Senzaemon, that was rare.
He gave a small nod of approval.
"Excellent composure," he said. "I look forward to seeing your performance here at Totsuki. As the transfer student representative, your speech will co toward the end of the ceremony. Feel free to rest here until then."
"Understood," Kael said simply.
Satisfied, Senzaemon turned and left the tent.
The mont he did, several people's gazes locked onto Kael. Even though he'd only exchanged a few words with the Director, the tone in Senzaemon's voice had been unmistakable—approval.
Anyone who could earn that kind of acknowledgnt from the "Demon King of Cuisine" after just a single conversation was clearly not ordinary.
Across the room, Erina Nakiri watched him quietly.
She'd read Kael's dossier when the Elite Ten had debated who would represent the transfer students. Compared to Soma Yukihira, Kael's record had left a much better impression.
He was already certified as a Three-Star Chef, a title that even most high school upperclassn hadn't achieved. She herself had long surpassed that level—her abilities verging on Four-Star—but a Three-Star student entering the first year was still remarkable.
A chef of that caliber more than deserved the role of transfer student.
And standing him next to Yukihira only made the contrast starker. Her distaste for that reckless boy was well-known, so naturally, Kael's composure—and his newfound favor with her grandfather—made him shine all the brighter in her eyes.
Not that Erina would ever admit it aloud.
Pride was part of her nature. As the heir to the Nakiri family and wielder of God's Tongue, she had no reason to lower herself to casual small talk. People sought her favor, not the other way around.
And that wasn't arrogance—it was simply the way the world worked for soone like Erina Nakiri.
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