As soon as one entered the venue of Tōtsuki Academy’s Moon Banquet Festival, even the main avenue not far from the front gate was already a sea of people.
From where Selene sat, the view stretched across an avenue lined on both sides with food stalls temporarily set up by Tōtsuki students, extending all the way to the grand hall perched atop a hillside. In front of the hall was a large arched terrace bordered with stone railings, adorned with neatly arranged seasonal flowers, banners, lanterns, and decorative lights.
Colorful balloons and fluttering flags danced in the wind, matching the bright visuals displayed on electronic screens and cloud projections, which continuously broadcast celebratory slogans for the Moon Banquet. Accompanied by the hawking voices of Tōtsuki students and the excited chatter of tourists, the scene buzzed with activity.
What was normally a spacious avenue now felt incredibly crowded. Tourists from all over the world gathered in groups of three or five. So were on family outings, others were returning 11th Legion soldiers, and there were even visitors from other star systems—orc servants, elven maids, and rfolk among them. It was a lively spectacle.
"Compared to sitting alone in my palace, basking in solitude, this bustling atmosphere has a special kind of charm," Selene murmured.
Sitting under the simple awning of a food stall, she rested her chin on her hand as she waited for the "Kanto Classic Yakitori Set al" she had ordered. Peeking through the light blue curtain, she observed this so-called culinary academy.
In a country like the 11th District, where land was scarce and expensive, an academy of this scale was extravagantly large. Selene slightly lifted her head, looking at the sprawling campus that occupied the entire hillside and stretched across multiple rolling knolls. Its traditional architecture, infused with a luxurious flair, gave her a sense of anticipation.
Advanced facilities and comprehensive infrastructure were a given. There was even a Tōtsuki Resort on-site. It was said that without knowledge of the layout or a ans of transport, getting from the registration office to the high school dorms might take you until sundown.
"Ninety-nine percent of people are sacrificed to train the remaining one percent."
That was the cruel truth behind Tōtsuki Academy’s infamous elimination rate.
Of course, Selene had only co to enjoy herself. She had no interest in their affairs and couldn’t be bothered to comnt.
Let them struggle, develop, or even fall into ruin—so long as they paid their taxes and abided by the law, they were free to do as they pleased.
They offered services and gourt dishes; she enjoyed them and paid accordingly. If the food was good, she wouldn’t hesitate to offer praise—all depending on her mood. It was that simple.
Still, the speed with which the post-war festivities had returned to their forr splendor impressed her. Tōtsuki Group’s adaptability was comndable.
Selene quietly accessed compiled data on the Tōtsuki Group, Tōtsuki Culinary Academy, and Nakiri International.
During the conquest, once the Empire’s forces arrived, the forr JSDF practically collapsed on contact. Like the Shinomiya Zaibatsu and other conglorates, Tōtsuki quickly sensed the shift in power and made a decisive choice within a short ti.
Abandoning the so-called Bushido spirit perpetuated by propaganda machines, they surrendered en masse in exchange for preserving lives and property. They bypassed the Cabinet and directly signed the surrender agreent with the Imperial expeditionary forces, aligning themselves with the Empire almost imdiately. Post-war, they actively participated in reconstruction and the establishnt of a new order.
With the influence of zaibatsu capital and the Empire’s overwhelming military might, all of Japan fell within twenty-four hours. And because nearly 60% of Japan’s total capital surrendered so swiftly, the region was spared greater warti destruction.
Aside from so modernization of internal equipnt, Tōtsuki Culinary Academy had largely retained its original appearance. After all, the Salamanders of the 18th Legion weren’t so bored that they’d go out of their way to bomb a clearly designated culinary school on a mountain.
Judging by the feel of the buildings, the closer one gets to the central area, the more retro the architecture becos—oh, and a few multi-tiered Gothic-style buildings have been added too, clearly catering to Imperial aesthetics.
Indeed, the Salamanders seem to have made special arrangents for this tourist world. The new capital where the Planetary Governor’s Office is located (built through land reclamation) has undoubtedly been constructed using a large amount of advanced Imperial technology, forming a supermassive fortress-like tropolis.
However, the rest of this tourist world hasn’t been rapidly industrialized. Aside from the necessary continental capitals, near-orbit facilities, and spaceports, many regions have undergone gradual and continuous transformation—especially the optimization of the natural environnt.
Otherwise, how could it still be called a tourist world?
In the end, the Tōtsuki Group didn’t disappoint, becoming one of the licensed suppliers of the Salamanders’ 18th Legion logistics division. Of course, not for weapons!
What the Tōtsuki Group supplies is people—chefs. The battlefield cooks of this world’s 11th Legion are sowhat famous even within the Imperial military.
Other renowned culinary institutions include the Paris Le Cordon Bleu, the Paul Bocuse Institute in Lyon, the Basque Culinary Center, and so on.
"Apologies for the wait, ma’am."
Selene had only been lost in thought briefly when the clink of a tray landing on the table snapped her back to reality. The anticipation of the food pulled her attention to the student server.
Following the arm still placing the mustard dish, salt dish, and sauce plate, she saw a slightly sweaty and visibly nervous Tōtsuki student. Selene returned a gentle smile, then turned her attention to the golden-brown yakitori on the tray: chicken neck, heart, gizzard, thigh, cartilage, wings, tsukune...
Beside it, freshly peeled lemon slices exuded that distinct citrus aroma, soothing the senses and stoking the appetite she had been building up.
Smiling faintly, she picked up a skewer of chicken neck. The distinct grains of salt stood out, and the golden surface shimred under the lights with a tempting sheen.
With a light bite—puchi~—the crispy outer shell and juicy at delighted her taste buds. The simple salt seasoning highlighted the freshness and quality of the ingredients, and the grilling was tid perfectly to give it just the right hint of char.
Strictly speaking, Selene possessed the so-called "God Tongue" and "God Nose"—superhuman sensitivity across all five senses related to taste.
But she never bothered to develop them, never cared, and even intentionally kept her sense of taste and sll limited to that of a normal person. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to enjoy most foods—wouldn’t that take away one of life’s greatest pleasures?
Besides, she wasn’t a professional chef—more of a casual food lover at best. She had no lofty culinary pursuits. She simply liked good food. No matter how elaborately a chef might describe their dish, to her it was just pleasant pre-al chatter.
With the Tōtsuki student at the grill eyeing her nervously but hopefully, Selene continued, picking up a skewer of chicken thigh, giving it a splash of lemon juice and a dab of mustard before taking a bite.
This ti, the tangy citrus aroma and the mild spiciness added a unique layer of flavor.
Chewing elegantly yet quickly, Selene polished off the yakitori skewers in front of her. The student watching her reaction let out a quiet sigh of relief. For a chef, seeing soone enjoy your cooking that much is the highest form of praise.
Finishing with a skewer of chicken heart, Selene glanced at the beads of sweat rolling down the students’ foreheads. Thoughtfully, she asked:
"Even if you couldn’t prepare an air conditioner in advance, why didn’t you at least bring a fan?"
Selene patted the reclining chair beneath her, which was completely out of place in the setting. "Also, this seat is quite strange..."
"We sincerely apologize!!"
"Due to our Barbecue Research Club losing a Shokugeki for funding at the Moon Banquet Festival, we’re running very tight on resources. After securing essential ingredients and tools, we had no choice but to borrow spare seats from the swim club. We deeply apologize and beg your forgiveness!"
Just one question was enough to cause panic. The head of the Far Moon Barbecue Research Club imdiately bowed at a ninety-degree angle, visibly nervous.
And rightly so. Though most of the invited VIPs had gone directly to the third district’s mountain area, Selene clearly didn’t look like an ordinary person.
Those blood-diamond crimson eyes, long silver hair that shimred like snow, the red high-end western dress, the way she held the wooden skewer with flawless, graceful fingers—all exuded nobility. Not to ntion the radiant golden double-headed eagle brooch near her collar and the unmistakable air of authority built over years.
A noble lady from another star sector, here on holiday.
Even though she was calm and polite, the mont she entered and placed her order, goosebumps erupted on their skin. An unspoken sixth sense scread that this woman must be served with absolute dedication—any hint of sloppiness would an doom.
They grilled with their full effort, pushing themselves to the brink. Their instincts told them they had broken through sothing, achieving results far better than during practice.
"A Shokugeki..."
No wonder this chair feels like a beach lounger—and there’s no fan. If this is all part of the Shokugeki culture, it makes sense.
...
Still frozen in a ninety-degree bow and not knowing what to expect, the research club leader suddenly felt a wave of refreshing coolness.
Wait—what’s this chill?
In the next mont, an invisible force lifted them up. Selene had stood, snapped her fingers, and a soft glow enveloped the entire stall. The heat from the crowd and the grill was cut off, keeping the air comfortably cool.
She pointed to the nu pinned to the steel fra of the tent. "That, that, and that one—salt-grilled and sauced, half-and-half. To go."
"Yes, ma’am!"
Instinctively snapping to attention, the head of the barbecue club responded loudly.
’It’s supernatural power!’
He was now absolutely certain. No wonder she wasn’t sweating in that heavy outfit, even while surrounded by a heat-packed crowd and hot grilled skewers.
"Since this is my first stop on the 18th Legion’s vacation world tour, your humble little stall has left a decent impression. This temperature-regulating barrier will maintain the most comfortable conditions for five days—until the end of the Moon Banquet Festival."
The club leader was about to bow again in gratitude, but his body was locked in place, his head forcefully turned to face the grill.
Selene’s voice continued, "Forget the thanks. Opening a barbecue stall in this heat, with no fan or AC and no chilled drinks—no wonder you had no custors. Consider it a return gift. I’m in a hurry, speed it up."
"Yes! Right away!!"
Arms crossed, Selene watched their expert movents with approval. Anyone who advanced from Far Moon’s middle school division to its high school, survived the dorm camp, and passed the Autumn Selection would naturally have solid fundantals.
As for barbecuing... losing a Shokugeki match seed reasonable. In the eyes of a certain "God Tongue" among the Elite Ten, this was still street food unworthy of the highest stage. Losing club funds in such a match was to be expected.
Selene, however, simply liked good food and found joy in all of it.
You ask her what her standard for delicious food is? Sorry—there isn’t one.
As long as it ets the criteria of color, aroma, taste, and presentation, Selene has no particular aversions. She’s exactly the type to eat whatever she feels like on a whim. If she happens to like a certain dish, she’ll eat it for all three als every day for months until she gets tired of it, then switch to sothing else. Later, if the craving returns, she’ll simply eat it again.
She doesn’t need to worry about nutritional balance—although Sebas and the head royal chef, [Susanoo], certainly do.
Soon enough, as if pushed beyond his limits and performing beyond expectations, the young cook wiped his sweat and respectfully handed the boxed skewers to Selene. "Your yakitori combo, with accompanying seasonal vegetables. Please enjoy."
"Thank you. I hope your culinary journey reaches even greater heights." Selene returned the courtesy.
Selene may be cold at heart, but she’s never been stone-faced. Quite the opposite—if she appreciates soone or has a favorable impression of them, and as long as they don’t offend her interests, she is never stingy with her kindness.
"Thank you very much!!"
The commotion inside this shabby little food stall caught the attention of passersby. But when they saw Selene walk out with a large box of skewers in hand, still chewing as she went, they all quickly averted their gazes and kept their heads low.
After she walked away, curiosity took over.
"A food stall that can attract a noble of the Empire, and even have her take food to go? What’s so special about it?"
"Didn’t this place look like it couldn’t even afford proper renovations?"
"Let’s go in and see."
"Oh! It’s so cool in here!"
With the corner of her eye, Selene caught sight of the crowd now lining up outside the tiny stall, drawn in by herd ntality. She chuckled softly. The effect of ’Discipline’—even just the residual ripples of her words could, without any side effects, guide recipients to unlock their body’s potential (or in other words, awaken latent abilities).
Looks like she’d beco a sort of lucky patron for Tōtsuki Academy.
She couldn’t help but notice that there seed to be more "hidden gems" among this batch of students—perhaps even more so-called "god-gifted talents." With the leadership having changed hands, who would ultimately co out on top?
Tossing the used skewer into a waste bin by the walkway, Selene made her way toward the next booth.
Eating and walking as she went, she soon ca upon a very curious stall.
It looked well-equipped, even luxurious, yet showed no signs of actual cooking.
One girl and two boys were arguing loudly, lacking any coordination whatsoever.
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