Chapter 232: Clown Azami Nakiri, the Disgust of the WGO
At this precise moment, the luxurious atmosphere of the WGO headquarters office was shattered.
Nakiri Mana sat completely stunned in her high-backed leather chair, her fingers frozen around the handle of a delicate porcelain spoon.
Suspended in the spoon was a single, perfectly round tangyuan, glistening with a soft, pearlescent sheen amidst a wisp of fragrant steam.
Standing dutifully by her side, Anne also frowned, her usually composed and gentle features twisting into a deeply solemn, displeased expression.
The heavy, soundproof mahogany doors of the office swung open with a dull thud.
Decora and Lanterby rushed into the room, their heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor.
Both First-Class Book Masters looked uncharacteristically frantic, their breaths coming in short, rapid bursts.
"La… Lady Mana!" Decora gasped, her chest heaving as she placed a hand over her heart. "I've already contacted the security detail!"
She then whipped her head around, her eyes narrowing into venomous slits as she glared at the figure trailing casually behind them.
"As for you, get out immediately!" Decora barked, her voice echoing with absolute authority.
The man stepping into the pristine office did not look even remotely intimidated by the hostility radiating from the room.
He wore an immaculately tailored dark suit, his sleek black hair combed back perfectly to frame his sharp, aristocratic features.
A chilling, overly polite smile was plastered across his face.
"Miss Decora is still as beautiful as ever," the man purred smoothly, his voice dripping with an oily, condescending charm. "Would you perhaps like to go for a cup of coffee later?"
Hearing the man's disgustingly casual proposition, Decora's face contorted with sheer revulsion.
She frowned deeply, opening her mouth to spit out a scathing rejection, but she was immediately cut off.
"Why are you here?" a deep, chilling voice resonated through the room.
It was Nakiri Mana.
She slowly lowered her porcelain spoon back into the bowl, her piercing eyes locking onto the intruder with the heavy, suffocating aura of the WGO's absolute highest authority.
"What are you doing here?" Mana demanded, her tone dropping several degrees in temperature.
The man simply chuckled, his smile widening into something that resembled a theatrical mask.
"Mana, please, don't be so cold to me, alright?" he said, stepping further into the room as if he owned it. "After all, we are still husband and wife, aren't we?"
Upon hearing those cursed words, Nakiri Mana's brows knitted together in profound disgust.
Her heart flared with a mixture of old trauma and absolute exhaustion.
"Azami Nakiri," Mana said slowly, pronouncing his name as if it were a foul taste on her tongue. "Have you really gotten too deep into your own delusions?"
She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in her chair with a glare that could freeze boiling water.
"I suggest you snap out of whatever role you think you are playing," Mana warned coldly. "And I hope you can speak with a little more respect in my presence."
Azami Nakiri remained entirely unfazed by her hostility, his beaming smile never once faltering.
"Mana, no matter what has happened between us, we still share a deep, unbreakable connection, do we not?" Azami said, his voice taking on a sickly sweet, almost reverent tone.
He spread his arms wide, adopting the posture of a benevolent savior descending from the heavens.
"And I have come here today, naturally, because I have finally found it," Azami declared, his eyes gleaming with fanatical certainty. "I have found a way to cure your God Tongue."
Silence fell over the room.
At these words, not only did the three Executive Officers freeze, but even Nakiri Mana's previously hostile expression subtly shifted.
The deep wrinkles of anger between her brows suddenly relaxed.
A strange, almost imperceptible glint of amusement flashed in Mana's eyes as she rested her chin on her intertwined fingers.
She looked at him with a hint of a playful, almost mocking expression.
"Oh?" Mana murmured, her voice laced with dangerous curiosity. "Is that so? Do tell me."
Azami, entirely misreading her calm demeanor as genuine hope, stepped forward eagerly.
"Midnight Chefs," Azami said, rolling the words off his tongue like a sacred incantation.
[Akarin's Note: "Midnight Chefs" (Les Cuisiniers Noirs) refers to the underground syndicate of dark chefs in the Food Wars universe. They operate in the criminal underworld, using illicit and often brutal cooking methods, and are employed by mafias, cartels, and corrupt elites.]
"In the dark, underground world of the Midnight Chefs, a truly extraordinary being has appeared," Azami explained, his voice rising with passionate fervor.
He clenched his fist, dramatically emphasizing his point.
"This chef possesses an unfathomable talent—the ability to plunder the special culinary abilities of others through victory!"
Azami looked directly into Mana's eyes, his expression twisted into one of supreme arrogance and triumph.
"Which means," Azami continued, "he has the potential for infinite, boundless growth. If nurtured correctly, he will accumulate enough culinary prowess to finally grow into an existence capable of satisfying your insatiable appetite, Mana!"
Hearing this grand, theatrical pitch, Nakiri Mana's lips twitched.
She suddenly let out a soft, elegant chuckle, her shoulders shaking lightly as she looked at her estranged husband.
"Hmm… how interesting," Mana said, her voice dripping with thick sarcasm that flew completely over Azami's head.
She tilted her head slightly, her gaze piercing right through his delusions of grandeur.
"So, what exactly do you mean by this grand revelation?" Mana asked smoothly. "You want me to use my authority to organize a grand competition?"
Azami's smile widened, entirely convinced that his brilliant manipulation was working perfectly.
"Yes, exactly!" Azami agreed smoothly.
"And then," Mana continued, tracing the rim of her porcelain bowl with her finger, "you want me to let this specific person lead a team of Midnight Chefs to compete?"
She raised an eyebrow, laying out his entire transparent scheme.
"You want to set up a stage for him to win all the way to the top, gaining more and more special abilities from his defeated opponents, until he ultimately becomes the most powerful chef in the world?"
"Exactly!" Azami exclaimed, his eyes shining with manic validation. "Mana, you truly are a rational woman after all! You understand the vision!"
"Pfft—!"
The sudden, undignified sound of a snort shattered the dramatic tension in the room.
At this point, Lanterby simply couldn't hold back her laughter any longer.
She clapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders trembling violently as a snicker escaped her lips.
With Lanterby breaking the dam, the professional facade of the room completely collapsed.
Decora turned her head away, her shoulders shaking as she let out a series of high-pitched giggles.
Anne covered her face with her clipboard, her chest heaving as she silently wheezed with laughter.
And finally, Nakiri Mana herself let out a clear, melodious laugh, no longer bothering to hide her immense amusement.
Azami Nakiri stood frozen in the center of the room, his grandiose smile faltering slightly as he looked at the four women laughing directly in his face.
"Mana," Azami said, a trace of genuine confusion bleeding into his smooth voice. "I know you must be overjoyed to hear this news, but there is no need to…"
Lanterby wiped a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye and pointed a manicured finger directly at him.
"Azami Nakiri!" Lanterby wheezed, her voice struggling to remain steady. "Please, don't be ridiculous! We aren't laughing out of joy!"
She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, but a wide smirk remained plastered across her face.
"We are laughing at you! You are so incredibly stupid!" Lanterby mocked openly.
She turned to look at the WGO's highest authority. "Lady Mana, did you specifically invite this clown here to perform a comedy routine for us?"
Nakiri Mana gave Lanterby a thoroughly exasperated look, silently reprimanding her for her lack of professional decorum, though her own eyes were still crinkled with amusement.
Mana then turned her attention back to the bewildered man standing before her desk.
"Azami Nakiri," Mana said mockingly, her tone laced with absolute pity. "Although what you said sounds very plausible in theory, let us examine the reality of your grand plan."
She rested her elbows on the desk, interlocking her fingers.
"What if, one day, my God Tongue simply grows and evolves again?" Mana challenged. "What if, one day, your precious little chef plunders all the special abilities in the world, and it is still not enough?"
Azami Nakiri immediately regained his composure, flashing his confident, unwavering smile once more.
"If all the special abilities of this era are plundered and concentrated into a single vessel," Azami proclaimed smoothly, "it is absolutely expected to create a realm of deliciousness that completely surpasses the confines of this world!"
Mana stared at him blankly for a second before letting out another incredulous laugh.
"Pfft! In other words," Mana deduced sharply, "your so-called helper needs an incredibly long, agonizing amount of time to slowly plunder these special abilities."
She shook her head, thoroughly unimpressed by the sheer inefficiency of his plan.
"And all of this effort is just to create a deliciousness that may not necessarily surpass the world?" Mana questioned. "In other words, you are admitting that this 'saviour' may not even be able to completely cure me?"
"Of course, such a profound transformation requires a process," Azami defended smoothly, refusing to back down.
He gestured gracefully with his hands, trying to weave his web of logic once more.
"Even now, his current level of cooking may not necessarily satisfy your divine taste. But as long as it meets the first point… the very first point of…"
Azami Nakiri's words suddenly caught in his throat.
He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening in absolute, unadulterated shock.
Right in front of him, Nakiri Mana had casually picked up the small, humble bowl of tangyuan from the side of her desk.
With elegant grace, she scooped up one of the soft, pearlescent glutinous rice balls with her porcelain spoon.
She blew on it gently, the sweet, fragrant steam wafting through the air, before calmly placing the entire tangyuan into her mouth.
Mana chewed slowly.
The delicate, chewy exterior yielded effortlessly to her teeth, releasing a burst of rich, molten black sesame paste that coated her tongue in an earthy, comforting sweetness.
She swallowed smoothly, a soft, contented sigh escaping her lips as the warm, sweet broth settled comfortably in her stomach.
"Well," Mana remarked casually, dabbing the corner of her lips with a silk napkin. "Although it isn't exceptionally delicious or mind-blowing, it is far better to eat something warm like this than to starve."
Azami stared at her, his meticulously styled hair practically bristling with shock.
His jaw went slack, his mind completely unable to process the impossible sight before him.
"You… you…" Azami stammered, his smooth, eloquent persona shattering into a million pieces.
Buzz!
A sudden, sharp vibrating sound rang out, cutting through the heavy silence of Azami's mental breakdown.
Anne pulled her phone out of her pocket, casually glancing at the brightly lit screen.
Her solemn expression instantly vanished, replaced by a look of profound, sparkling envy.
"Oh, my goodness!" Anne gasped, practically shoving the phone toward her superior. "Lady Mana, look! Courage and the others are eating Coconut Chicken Hotpot right now!"
Nakiri Mana was visibly startled, her attention instantly shifting away from her speechless husband.
She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto the high-resolution photo glowing on the small screen.
As if remembering a deeply cherished memory, Mana visibly swallowed, her mouth watering at the vibrant image.
The photo displayed a large, bubbling pot of crystal-clear coconut water broth. Immersed within the boiling liquid were thick, succulent cuts of snow-white, tender chicken, glistening with rendered fat. Beside the pot sat small porcelain dipping bowls filled with a dark, savory soy sauce, vibrant green slices of calamansi lime, fiery red chilies, and finely minced sand ginger.
"Coconut chicken…" Mana murmured, thoroughly captivated. "I remember that dish… it's something similar to a hot pot, right?"
She leaned in closer, squinting at the background of the photo.
"Hmm? Who are those two kids sitting next to her?" Mana asked curiously. "And look at that girl with the green lipstick, eh? To pull off such an eccentric color with that much confidence is genuinely impressive."
Unlike Mana, who was entirely focused on the mouth-watering food and the bold choice of lipstick shades, Decora glared at the phone screen with sheer, unadulterated jealousy.
Decora gritted her teeth, her hands balling into fists as she stared at the tender, perfectly poached chicken meat.
"That damn Courage is living way too comfortably!" Decora complained bitterly. "She gets to eat such divine food while we're stuck here! Wait, is that girl with the green lipstick also one of the Seniors?"
Lanterby eagerly leaned over Decora's shoulder to get a better look at the screen.
"It definitely looks like they are eating something incredibly delicious," Lanterby analyzed, her eyes scanning the table in the photo. "But doesn't it feel like something is missing from the spread? Right, Decora?"
Decora hummed in agreement, her professional culinary inspector instincts kicking in.
"Hmm, you're right. I also feel like the table setting isn't quite complete. Maybe not all the side dishes have been served yet."
"That makes perfect sense," Lanterby nodded seriously. "You can't have a proper hotpot without the crispy tofu rolls and the hand-cut beef slices!"
The four women clustered tightly together, happily chatting and gossiping about hotpot ingredients, makeup choices, and the unfairness of Courage's luxurious lifestyle.
They were completely, utterly ignoring the man standing in the center of the room.
Azami Nakiri stood there, completely frozen in place, looking absolutely bewildered.
His hands hung awkwardly at his sides, his perfectly tailored suit suddenly feeling incredibly stifling.
What the hell was happening?
He had come here to deliver a dramatic, world-shaking revelation. He had come here to present himself as the dark messiah who would finally save the Nakiri bloodline from its eternal curse.
Why did he suddenly feel like an absolute, utter clown?
Nakiri Mana suddenly slapped her hand flat against the mahogany desk, her eyes burning with newfound determination.
"Anne, then it is decided!" Mana declared forcefully. "We are having Coconut Chicken Hotpot for our next meal! Since the recipe is incredibly pure, just fresh coconut water and high-quality chicken, go arrange it with the kitchen immediately!"
"Right away, Lady Mana!" Anne replied enthusiastically, though she hesitated for a brief second. "But… I always feel like something is slightly missing when we just eat it on its own…"
"We feel the exact same way," Decora and Lanterby chimed in simultaneously, nodding their heads in solemn agreement.
"Then let's just wait a bit longer before we start!" Mana concluded brightly. "Just in time, actually. I still haven't finished my bowl of tangyuan yet~"
Just as Nakiri Mana picked up her porcelain spoon and was about to dive back into her sweet dessert, she paused.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the tall, imposing figure of Azami Nakiri was still standing awkwardly in the middle of her office.
Mana blinked, looking at him with an expression of pure, unadulterated confusion.
"Why are you still standing here?" Mana asked bluntly, completely shattering whatever pride he had left.
She tilted her head, a mockingly innocent smile playing on her lips.
"Did you want to sit down and eat with us?" Mana teased lightly. "Oh, dear me, I'm so terribly sorry. We don't have any extra bowls or chopsticks for uninvited guests."
Azami Nakiri stared at her, his eyes wide with a mixture of horror and disbelief.
"Mana…" Azami breathed, his voice trembling slightly. "You actually just ate that peasant food?! That tangyuan?!"
He gestured wildly toward the humble bowl on her desk.
"And now you are eagerly making plans to eat that… that crude Coconut Chicken thing?! What about your God Tongue?!"
Nakiri Mana let out a long, deeply exhausted sigh, rubbing her temples as if he were giving her a massive headache.
"You truly are so incredibly annoying, Azami," Mana stated flatly.
She looked at him, her eyes completely devoid of the despair she had carried for so many years.
"My God Tongue has naturally been fully healed," Mana declared, her voice ringing with absolute certainty. "As for what you continuously refer to as 'cuisine that transcends the world'..."
A soft, genuinely warm smile graced Mana's lips as the image of a certain young man flashed through her mind.
"I have already found someone who can make it perfectly," Mana said softly. "So, now that this matter is completely settled, you can leave."
Hearing this absolute rejection, Lanterby, Decora, and Anne all turned to look at Azami Nakiri.
Their expressions were completely synchronized, each woman wearing identical looks of absolute, unfiltered disgust.
Azami Nakiri frowned deeply, his composure finally breaking as his face contorted in denial.
"Impossible!" Azami snapped, his voice echoing loudly off the walls. "How could I have possibly not heard of such a miraculous chef existing in this world?!"
Nakiri Mana lazily waved her hand through the air, completely dismissing his pathetic outburst.
"My father and Saiba-senpai found him for me," Mana explained simply, relishing the look of shock that crossed Azami's face at the mention of Joichiro Saiba.
"They are both regular customers at his Restaurant," Mana continued. "Now, do you have any other utterly pointless questions? Because after you ask them, I truly do not want to ever see your face again."
Azami Nakiri stood in silence, his fists clenched so tightly by his sides that his knuckles turned completely white.
He stood there for a long, agonizing minute, violently warring with his own shattered ego.
Slowly, he forced his fists to unclench, taking a deep breath to forcefully reconstruct his smooth, arrogant facade.
"So, Mana," Azami said, his voice returning to its oily, confident cadence. "About the grand competition you mentioned before…"
"Whether that competition actually happens or not depends entirely on my current mood," Mana interrupted coldly. "But if you think you can use it to find a cure for the God Tongue, there is absolutely no need. The position has already been filled."
Mana's eyes narrowed dangerously, a predatory glint flashing in her irises.
"Oh, and consider this a formal warning from the World Gourmet Organization," Mana added smoothly. "If your little Midnight Chefs dare to show their faces in the light of day, I will probably just have the international police arrest them on sight."
Azami Nakiri merely smiled, his eyes curving into dark, calculating crescents.
"Then," Azami suggested softly, playing his final, desperate trump card, "if the students of Totsuki Culinary Academy participate in the tournament, it will be perfectly fine, right?"
Nakiri Mana's eyes narrowed into terrifying slits at the implied threat to her daughter's academy.
Completely ignoring her murderous glare, Azami turned his polite, venomous smile toward the WGO officers.
"Miss Anne," Azami chastised smoothly. "How can you possibly allow Mana to eat that lowly tangyuan and that crude thing called coconut chicken? Because it is beneath her, everything should immediately be replaced with the most exquisite, flawless dishes…"
"You are meddling way too much in our affairs!" Decora snapped violently.
As soon as her shout echoed through the room, the heavy mahogany doors burst open once more.
A large squad of heavily built, stern-faced WGO security guards rushed into the office, surrounding Azami in an instant.
Lanterby crossed her arms over her chest and sneered openly at the dark chef.
"Throw this disgusting guy out onto the street!" Lanterby ordered the guards.
Azami Nakiri casually raised his hand, waving off the approaching security personnel with a smooth, arrogant gesture.
"There is no need for such barbarism. I can walk out by myself," Azami said smoothly.
He turned his head slightly, casting one final, lingering look back at his estranged wife.
"But, Mana… I truly do not think you will be so quick to call the police if Totsuki's finest participate in the grand competition," Azami challenged softly.
He bowed slightly, the epitome of false elegance. "So, until we meet again. Farewell, Mana."
Azami Nakiri turned on his heel and was just about to step through the doorway when Nakiri Mana's voice cracked through the air like a whip.
"Stop right there," Mana commanded.
Azami paused, turning his head back with a triumphant smirk, fully expecting her to beg for an explanation.
He was just about to open his mouth to speak when he heard Mana say in a deep, bone-chilling voice.
"I am very, very clear about your disgusting little schemes, Azami," Mana warned, her voice vibrating with a terrifying maternal fury. "But my words today are absolute and final. Not a single one of your twisted ideas will ever come true."
She leaned forward, her eyes burning into his soul.
"And you had better stay far, far away from Erina!"
Azami Nakiri didn't offer a rebuttal. He simply smiled that same, empty, terrifying smile.
Before he could even take another step toward the exit, Decora suddenly stepped forward, a dangerously sweet smile blossoming on her face.
"Oh, and Mr. Azami Nakiri?" Decora called out cheerfully. "I will also say something on behalf of Courage and the rest of the WGO."
She rested her hands on her hips, her eyes sparkling with malicious satisfaction.
"Firstly, we absolutely do not drink coffee with arrogant fools. And secondly…"
Decora's smile widened into a blinding, triumphant beam.
"We already have a man we deeply admire and like. So, I pray we never have the misfortune of seeing you ever again!"
Azami Nakiri's eyes twitched violently, narrowing into dark, hateful slits at the blatant disrespect.
Without uttering another word, he spun around and walked directly out of the office, the heavy mahogany doors clicking shut behind him.
The suffocating tension in the room instantly vanished with his departure.
Lanterby dramatically slumped her shoulders, letting out a loud, highly irritated groan.
"Ugh! He really is such a self-righteous, utterly disgusting man!" Lanterby complained, furiously waving her hand in front of her face as if trying to fan away his lingering scent.
"Then let's just stop talking about him entirely," Decora sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "He completely ruins the appetite."
Nakiri Mana sat quietly in her chair, her eyes narrowed as she stared at the closed mahogany doors for a long, silent moment.
"Sure enough," Mana murmured softly, speaking more to herself than to her subordinates. "I still need to finalize the arrangements to move. I want to be closer to him."
She let out a heavy, sorrowful sigh, shaking her head.
"I really don't know why my precious Erina had to be burdened with such a toxic father…"
Mana slowly lowered her gaze back to her desk, her eyes landing on the delicate porcelain bowl.
The fragrant steam that had once wafted from the bowl was completely gone. The warm, sweet broth had cooled into a lukewarm puddle, and the previously perfect, pearlescent glutinous rice ball looked slightly deflated.
Mana's shoulders slumped, a look of profound, devastating tragedy washing over her elegant features.
It was a tragedy that went far beyond mere food—it was a quiet, weary reflection on how Azami's very presence managed to drain the warmth and joy out of every single thing he touched, ruining even the simplest moments of peace she had finally fought so hard to regain.
"Ah…" Mana whined softly, her regal WGO aura completely deflating. "My tangyuan got entirely cold…"
Anne immediately snapped to attention, her professional demeanor returning in full force.
"Lady Mana!" Anne saluted frantically, eager to erase the sadness from her superior's face. "Please do not worry! I will run down to the kitchen and have the head chef make you another fresh, piping-hot serving right this instant!"
Nakiri Mana looked up, a small, grateful smile finally returning to her lips.
"Mm! Please do, Anne!"
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