"I had a feeling earlier," Ron muttered. "It's not just that she resembles a younger Linne… she's exactly like Nakiri Alice. When she wasn't wearing a chef's uniform, I didn't make the connection."
"But now that she is—it's identical."
The challenge match began. The host randomly drew a topic, and the adjacent ingredient station had already prepared the required materials. Alice and the challenger began cooking.
Throughout the process, Alice didn't use Nen; she relied solely on her own culinary skills. Ron figured this must be a rule of the Moon Institute. Otherwise, a Nen user competing with someone without Nen would be far too unfair.
As for the eighth and ninth seats of the Elite Ten, some of them wouldn't even have had a chance to join the council if not for the system.
"Now that I think about it, I've encountered many people in this world who bear striking resemblance to characters from other worlds I remember. Wendy, the child of the Dragon Dojo from the Kingdom of Fiora, just like the Wendy from Fairy Tail."
"Misty resembles Mirajane from the same world. And Alice—just like Nakiri Alice from the world of Food Wars."
Soon, both dishes were delivered to the judges.
"Winner: Alice!" All five judges cast their votes for her. It was a one-sided match with no suspense.
The second challenger stepped forward—again, "Winner: Alice!" Another clean sweep.
Match after match—six in a row. Compared to the other members of the Elite Ten, very few people dared challenge them. The total number of matches across all the other members didn't even equal the number of challenges Alice had already taken.
But after those six rounds, the challengers began to realize something: Alice's culinary skill might not be the weakest among the Elite Ten. Even though she was the youngest and currently held the tenth seat, she had won six consecutive matches—all in dominant fashion—without allowing a single judge's vote to slip to her opponent.
Could any other member of the Elite Ten truly pull that off?
Students who qualified to challenge were by no means weak. The choice of opponent began to shift—challengers were now more cautious. They stopped blindly targeting Alice and instead considered going after other members.
"Congratulations to Snow for becoming the new Elite Ten No. 9!"
A wave of intense cheers broke out—not because people had any personal stake in Snow's win, but because people love to see the underdog triumph. The weak defeating the strong, the challenger toppling the incumbent—that's the kind of drama people crave.
The former No. 9 stepped down from the stage, dejected and defeated, while the new No. 9, Snow, stood proudly where his predecessor had stood. But winning the challenge was only the beginning. Now he would have to defend that title.
The full duration of the Elite Ten Challenge Tournament was three days. If a member could endure three days without being defeated, only then would their seat be secured.
A stream of starlight appeared around Ron, flowing steadily into the crystal orb before him. The progress of his mastery of Observer's Intent was increasing at a much faster rate than before.
"At this rate, by the end of the tournament, I might hit fifty percent. That's far quicker than I originally estimated."
The challenges continued. Spectators came and went in waves, replaced again and again. Even the judges at the arena were rotated.
Only when night fully fell did the Elite Ten leave the stage to rest. On the second day, they returned early. Many more matches had been completed by then, though successful challenges remained rare. Most ended in failure. Most of the challengers went after the lower-ranked members.
Hardly anyone dared go after the upper seats.
Alice, by this point, had already notched over thirty consecutive victories. And in every match, she won by unanimous decision. By the third day, no one was willing to challenge her anymore.
"Alice is strong. Though she holds the tenth seat, her culinary level is easily mid-tier among the Elite Ten."
"Many of the challengers were no pushovers either. For example, someone who lost to Alice later went on to defeat the eighth seat and became the new Elite Ten No. 8."
"Doesn't that mean Alice is stronger than the former eighth seat?"
As the tournament continued, Alice's reputation spread rapidly. The word "genius" no longer seemed sufficient to describe her. She was a genius among geniuses—on the level of Ron in Heaven's Arena, Wendy in the Kingdom of Fiora, and the members of the Phantom Troupe in Meteor City. Each was someone who attracted the attention of countless people.
Of course, this applied to reputation alone. Actual strength varied person to person. In terms of raw combat ability, Ron was clearly far above Alice. Wendy's power likely also surpassed hers too. But in culinary skill, neither Ron nor Wendy could match Alice.
As for innate talent, most members of the Phantom Troupe were likely a step below Ron, Alice, and Wendy. Wendy ranked among the top three talents of her generation in Fiora. Alice, without question, was the most gifted chef of her generation in Gourmet Paradise.
Ron needed no comparison at all. As a transmigrator, he was truly one of a kind in the entire world.
On the third day, the tournament approached its final stage. There were far fewer challengers stepping forward now, and some seats among the Elite Ten had already rotated. Ron glanced at his crystal orb—the progress had reached forty-six percent.
Meanwhile, the number of spectators around the stage was growing. The highlight of the tournament was about to begin: intra-Elite Ten challenges.
Lower-ranked members would challenge mid-ranked ones; mid-ranked would go after top seats, leading to a reshuffling of the hierarchy.
At that moment, Alice moved.
All eyes turned toward the direction she was walking, and pupils contracted sharply.
"Alice—who's she targeting?"
"That direction… isn't that one of the top seats?"
"Is Alice going to challenge one of the Elite Ten's top three?"
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