I Just Wanted a Quiet Life... So Why Am I an Uma Musume Trainer?! Chapter 443 442 A Feast of Intent

Hachiman's Point of View

"Alright, that's it for today's session. It's the first high-intensity day of August, so don't get lazy with your recovery. If you're planning on hitting the baths, don't forget to massage those muscles."

"Yes, yes, sir!" Mr. C.B. chirped, raising her hand with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Actually, I'd like Hachiman to do the massaging for !"

I looked past her as if she were made of glass. "Right. If there's nothing else, you're dismissed."

"Hey! Hachiman! What about my massage?!"

I stopped and looked her dead in the eye. "You have two choices. You can have a massage right now, or you can have the special dinner I'm making. If you pick the massage, you're getting the standard cafeteria al. Choose wisely."

C.B. didn't hesitate for a second. "I'll take the massage another ti! Dinner it is!"

Symboli Rudolf smiled, her expression full of quiet anticipation. "So, the day has finally co. You're cooking for us tonight, Brother?"

"That was the deal," I said. "I'm making sure you three eat like royalty tonight."

"Um, Big Brother?" Rice asked softly. "Is it okay to tell us that before we've even seen the food? You're raising the bar pretty high."

"Yeah. I can guarantee it's a level above what I made last year. So… feel free to wait with zero expectations."

"Why do you build us up just to tear yourself down?" C.B. laughed.

"I can guarantee how it looks," I countered, "but I'm not making promises on the taste. I've done my own taste tests, but whether it suits your refined palates is another story."

I'd been practicing this French nu for a week. I had a modicum of confidence, but this was the first ti I was serving it to an audience… Well, technically, I had served it to one person already. But Ramonu didn't exactly give a Yelp review, so I was still flying blind.

[A Few Hours Later – The Kitchen]

"Man, Trainer-san, you're really going at it again today!" one of the kitchen staff called out.

"Sorry for hogging the space several days in a row," I replied without looking up from the stove.

"Don't sweat it! You fed us your test batches, so we're more than even. Besides, today's the real deal, right?"

I paused, a knife mid-slice. "How did you know?"

"You did the exact sa thing on this day last year. Hard to forget a guy who cooks like a pro."

I guess his mory was better than I gave him credit for.

"Anyway, the kitchen is yours. Give 'em hell, kid!"

"Thanks."

Ti to get to work.

[Just Before Dinner Service]

I moved with a chanical precision, the rhythm of the kitchen finally feeling natural.

"His technique is as sharp as ever," a staff mber whispered from the sidelines.

"Is French cooking always that… intense?" another asked.

"Quiet! That's one of the world's three great cuisines. It's all about delicate balance and microscopic details. The fact that a trainer picked all that up in a week and is managing the seasoning perfectly… the guy isn't normal."

"Do you think he missed his calling? He could run a five-star restaurant."

"He'd be scouted in a heartbeat. But look sharp! The rush is coming. Be ready to pivot the second an order cos in!"

I ignored the comntary. I was down to the final touches. This was it.

Rice Shower's Point of View

"I'm so excited for Big Brother's cooking," President Rudolf said, her eyes bright. "Don't you two feel the sa?"

"Of course!" C.B. exclaid. "I've been dreaming about this all day!"

" too," I whispered, clutching my hands together.

The cafeteria was buzzing. It felt like last year all over again—word had gotten out that Big Brother was in the kitchen, and a crowd was starting to form near the front.

"Haha, it seems the 'Hachiman Effect' is in full swing," Rudolf noted. "The line is already backing up."

"I rember when you first called here last year, President," I said. "Everything felt so overwhelming then."

"True. But at this rate, we won't even reach the counter. I'll go see if I can clear a path."

"Good luck!" C.B. waved.

I waited, my stomach rumbling. I've eaten so many things Big Brother has made, but he said this would be even more 'luxurious.' What could that possibly an? Suddenly, the crowd parted.

"The President just had to say one word, and everyone started ordering like they were snapped out of a trance," C.B. giggled. "I think they were all just srized watching him cook."

"I've never really seen Big Brother in the zone like that," I admitted. "It's… rare."

[At the Table]

"Brother," Rudolf said as she sat down. "We finally made it."

"Rudolf. Good," Big Brother said, appearing from the kitchen. "Sit tight, you three. I'm plating your portions now."

"You're really keeping the mystery alive until the very last second, aren't you?" C.B. teased.

"It's better that way," he replied. "The surprise is part of the flavor."

I noticed everyone in the cafeteria was stealing glances at him. They were all dying to see what he had prepared. My heart hamred against my ribs as he walked back toward us, carrying several trays.

"Sorry for the wait," he said, his voice low and steady. "This is your exclusive, one-night-only dinner."

Rudolf gasped. "Brother… this is…"

"Wow…" I breathed, my eyes widening.

"It's incredible," C.B. whispered, her playful energy replaced by genuine awe.

It was completely different from last year. On the tray sat a beautiful, golden Quiche—it looked almost like a savory tart. Next to it was an Onion Gratin Soup, the cheese lted into a perfect, bubbling crust, served with two slices of toasted French bread. There was a vibrant Ratatouille, the sumr vegetables glistening in a rich red sauce. Beside that were delicate at wraps—pork belly tightly rolled around a dley of colorful vegetables. There was even a bowl of fragrant Takikomi rice, flecked with flaky white fish. And finally… a massive, perfectly seared sirloin steak, sliced for easy eating.

The aroma hit all at once. I've never been so hungry in my entire life.

"Big Brother… is this… French?" I asked, almost afraid to touch it.

"In spirit, anyway," he said, sounding a bit shy. "It's nothing compared to the real deal in Paris, but here's the breakdown: We have a classic bacon and spinach Quiche. The soup is Onion Gratin—be careful, it's lava-hot. The Ratatouille uses the best of the sumr harvest. The at wraps are pork belly with cabbage, carrots, cucumber, and asparagus. The rice is infused with cod and white dashi for a deep umami flavor. And the sirloin… well, I snuck a piece during prep. It's good."

He looked at us, waiting.

"I… I don't even know where to start!" I cried. "Everything looks so delicious!"

"We're not in France yet," Big Brother said with a small smile. "So forget the etiquette. Eat what you want, in whatever order you want. You're allowed one refill for the whole al, except for the cod rice—you can have as much of that as you want until the pot is empty."

(Heaven help , this is pure food torture. My stomach is screaming just looking at it!)

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