The wooden competition stage was set up right outside the house, simple yet spacious.
The contestants were called out one by one by the proprietress, Shenli, and lined up in a row.
The atmosphere was a bit overly intense; the salty, fishy sea breeze mixed with the charred aroma of grilled meat, wafting directly into people's noses.
Below the stage was a dense crowd of dockworkers and nearby residents who had come to watch the spectacle, their heckling and cheering rising and falling in waves.
Aside from Drake and Ariel, everyone else could be considered a "heavyweight" figure of the Lilycove City dock area.
The first person on the left was a porter leader over two meters tall, his knotted muscles looking as if they were carved from granite, with arms thicker than Ariel's thighs.
Standing next to him was a fish wholesaler with a prominent potbelly, wearing an ill-fitting silk shirt with buttons strained to the limit, a typical businessman's slick smile plastered on his face.
Further along were several dark-skinned Old Fishermen who spent their years braving the wind and waves, their eyes glinting with a stubborn refusal to lose.
Standing among this group of "giants," Ariel's lean figure was indeed quite conspicuous.
As soon as he stepped onto the stage, a moderate buzz of discussion broke out below.
"Who's that kid? With those thin arms and legs, what's he doing here joining the fun?"
"Probably has his eye on the grand prize, but he doesn't even realize how out of his league he is."
Ariel turned a deaf ear to these comments, simply calming his breathing as his gaze fell upon the long dining table ahead.
"Everyone! Are you ready?!"
Proprietress Shenli stood in the center of the stage, holding a tin megaphone, her voice booming.
"For the first round, we're having some hearty food! Special Sauce Grilled—Sharpedo Steaks!"
As soon as she finished speaking, several workers carried massive iron platters onto the stage.
"Clang!"
The iron platters slammed heavily onto the table, the mountain-like piles of meat trembling slightly as a rich meaty aroma exploded instantly, domineeringly seizing everyone's sense of smell.
Each steak was the size of a washbasin, grilled to a crispy golden-brown exterior that sizzled with grease, while the meat inside revealed an enticing pink hue.
"Start!"
At the command, the porter leader was the first to roar into action. He didn't even use utensils, his fan-like large hands directly grabbing a piping hot steak and stuffing it into his gaping maw. His wild eating style drew a round of cheers from the crowd.
The others were not to be outdone, and for a moment, the only sounds on the stage were chewing, swallowing, and heavy breathing.
Ariel didn't compete with them for speed.
He picked up a knife and fork, unhurriedly cutting off a piece of meat.
His movements carried a strange rhythm; every cut, every forkful, and every chew was as precise as if it had been practiced thousands of times.
This stemmed from his countless combat training sessions in the system space; precise control over every muscle and every breath had long since become instinctual.
He slowed his breathing, synchronizing it with the rhythm of his eating.
Inhale, cut the meat.
Exhale, put it in his mouth, chew.
As the meat entered his stomach, a warm current rapidly spread out.
His body, modified by the system's high-intensity training, had a metabolism far beyond that of an ordinary person.
The recent exhaustion at sea and mental tension had left his body in a state of extreme craving for energy.
He could clearly feel the food being rapidly broken down and absorbed, transformed into the purest energy to replenish every thirsty cell.
The feeling of fatigue in his body was fading bit by bit as the food entered.
To him, this wasn't a competition, but a timely resupply.
The first round ended quickly, and that mountain of meat was leveled at a visible speed.
Two or three contestants had already turned pale and retreated, clutching their stomachs.
Shenli clapped her hands with a beaming smile:
"It seems everyone has a great appetite! Don't worry, the main course has just begun! Round two—Shellder Chowder Noodles!"
This time, massive sea-sized bowls were brought out.
The milky-white thick soup emitted billowing steam, containing chewy noodles and large chunks of fresh, springy Shellder meat.
This stuff was even more filling than the steaks.
Many of the burly men who had been full of bravado just moments ago now looked at the steaming bowls of chowder noodles with troubled expressions.
The porter leader gritted his teeth and picked up a bowl to gulp it down. After three bowls, his speed slowed.
Sweat rolled off his forehead, and his face turned from red to green. When he picked up the fifth bowl, he took only one sip before his throat convulsed. Unable to suppress it any longer, he clamped his hand over his mouth and charged off the stage like a cannonball, heading straight for the toilets.
A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd below.
The competitors on stage fell one after another, and the spots at the table became increasingly empty.
Ultimately, only three people remained on the stage.
Dragon Elite Drake, Ariel, and that massive fat wholesaler.
Drake's eating style was the most heroic; he picked up the bowl, tilted his head back and drank, the soup dripping down his beard, but he didn't care at all. Finishing a bowl of noodles took him less than half a minute, after which he exhaled a hot breath with a hearty "Ha!"
The fat wholesaler was no slouch either; he was drenched in sweat and his shirt was soaked, but he continued to persist, his small eyes fixed on the bowl in front of him as if he had a personal vendetta against the food.
Meanwhile, Ariel maintained his unhurried pace.
His eating style could even be called elegant; he didn't make much noise, and the corners of his mouth remained clean.
Yet, the height of the empty bowls stacked in front of him was not a bit lower than the other two.
In the gap while swallowing his seventh bowl of noodles, Drake finally used his peripheral vision to truly scrutinize the young man beside him for the first time.
A flash of surprise crossed the old man's eyes.
He had originally thought the kid was just forcing himself, holding on through youthful pride.
But he was wrong.
Drake could clearly feel that the young man's breathing was steady, his heartbeat powerful, and his body seemed to contain a highly efficient furnace.
He wasn't forcing himself; he was simply replenishing energy.
That vigorous appetite radiating from the inside out couldn't be faked.
This kid's physical foundation was startlingly good.
Deep within Drake's seemingly cloudy old eyes, the sense of inquiry grew stronger.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
He put down his bowl, picked up a towel to wipe his mouth and beard, and grinned at Ariel, revealing a row of white teeth.
"Not bad, kid. Can you still eat?"
Ariel had just finished a bowl as well. He put it down, met Drake's gaze calmly, and nodded.
"I'm alright."
No redundant words, just those two simple ones.
The clamor below the stage seemed to freeze at this moment.
Everyone's gaze focused on these final three, especially on the lean young man who hadn't been favored from the start.
Watching this scene, Proprietress Shenli's smile became even more brilliant. She picked up the tin megaphone, cleared her throat, and her voice carried a hint of excited trembling.
"It looks like this year's Big Eater King will be decided among these three!"
"So... are you ready for the final challenge?"
"Round three! And the final round! Gyarados Rolls!"