“Now, don’t start crying so soon – Second Place gets an invitation to the Abyss Cooking Academy, recommended by Chef Harpira herself!” The shadowy figure continued, big on emotion. The demoness didn’t look so happy, however. More like she was already despising the poor sod who got it. “And Third Place – you get a medal! Look! It has even been bitten by Chef Tartarus himself!”

  The medal – or what remained of it, since it lacked a big chunk – sold the statement. However, the audience roared as if it was really something great.

  Wow. It felt like he was getting a crash course on a whole culture. The notes weren’t wrong. (But then, humans did waste money in things from their ‘target of admiration’, didn’t they?)

  “But there’s a long way until some of you can put your paws on them! So let’s start with the really good stuff! The main event for today!” With a grand gesture of his hand, they pointed to the cooking stations on the platform. “The Preliminary Rounds will pit you against each other from the start, since there are only 24 places for Participants. The rest of you will have a terrible end~”

  The shadow had no face, and yet, Luca could swear it was smiling.

  “In case you can't do the math, my dears, there are sixty of you. In each round, 20 will step here – onto the mighty kitchen of Agni – and solve the challenge set by the chefs. But only 8 will be able to earn this–” With a trumpet playing in the background, a flame materialized out of thin air amidst the stations and soon went out, leaving behind an ugly red mushroom-shaped hat floating.

  The audience – no, more than them, the Aspirants surrounding Luca – went crazy after seeing this. He tried to follow it, clapping his hands and smiling.

  “That’s right! The almighty Agni Hat! The sign that you’re a proud Participant of Agni Kitchen!” With a snap of their fingers, the hat disappeared. Turning on themselves, the presenter continued, “Let the first round begin!”

  The crowd erupted again, their excitement palpable, and then a handful of demons at the front were suddenly enveloped in flames. As they screamed, they floated in the air – carried by the fire – and landed next to a cooking station. A black box had emerged out of the counter.

  “Aspirants! You’ll have 30 minutes to prepare the best dish you can with the things inside the box. Don’t forget – only 8 of you will be passing! So make every drop of blood and sweat count, my dears~” With another snap of their fingers, black fire crept through the air, twisting and forming numbers – it was a timer.

  “Time starts now!”

  As the first round began, the aspirants opened their boxes – or rather, the boxes opened for them. Even from that distance, Luca was able to see what was inside: something dark, squid-shaped – and dangerous, if the sudden scream from one of the cooks after their ingredient latched onto their arm was any indication.

  Luca dragged his fingers against the vial. It wasn’t the right moment to use it yet. Although 12 hours of effects could feel like a lot, from what he knew, this show was big on hours long challenges. He had to be careful and stretch it until the end if he wanted to survive – and win.

  … Besides, knowing that ingredient wouldn’t serve him at all. It wasn’t like the next rounds would not change it.

  “-so lucky!” The imp was chatting to their – friend? Perch? Whatever the other demon was. “I want to cook with dwarf krakens too.”

  That’s the name? As Luca’s eyes drifted to the platform again, the chatter followed.

  “Last year it was about cooking with different parts of a Manticore – maybe this year is like that, and we’ll get another part, like the head, or its insides. Should we brainstorm–? I think if we use spices like Blood Tears or Broken Tongue, we can create something devil-delicious…”

  Those names were pretty cringy. What was left…? Churning Belly?

  “Can't you just shut up?” an irritated voice snapped not far away. A shadow – no, a very tall, lanky winged demon – scowled at the imp and its companion. His eyes were blue, and his hair was curly; but that was the only ‘human’ thing about him, considering his head was that of a bird with a long yellow beak.

  “Why are you butting in?” the imp hissed. “I’m not talking to you.”

  “You’re too fucking noisy. Think you’re at home, rat?”

  “Oh, you didn’t, birdbrain–” The imp jumped out – and was promptly caught by one of the four arms, but even so, they growled at the bird-demon.

  Kindergarten fights in hell. He was sure that this wasn’t in the report.

  Luca stepped back as the tension flared up like flames, sliding to the other corner to put some distance between them and himself. Other demons were doing the same, so it wasn’t just him who didn’t want to be involved.

  “Silence.” With a single word, a single murmur, a dignified figure with a jackal’s head and dressed in gold and blue cut the fight short. It seemed they had some kind of authority or reputation because no one tried to retaliate – not even the four-armed demon that looked like they could crush the furry one with ease. Then, they simply turned around.

  No one could be blamed for the tension that Jackal Head left behind. Even Luca had felt the vibration in the air, the temptation not to speak for a while slithering inside him.

  Pinching his arm lightly to break free of the spell – fantastic, magic – Luca turned his attention to the platform where two more aspirants had fallen prey to their ingredients, avoiding looking at the culprit of the sudden calm on purpose. That demon – he recognized them even if he didn’t recall their name. They were one of the Participants in the cycle; someone who could be a tough competitor for him.

  Shouldn’t it be too early to scout the competition, right? Luca toyed with the vial, thinking about it.

  “For Angra! What are you doing?!” The enraged holler attracted the attention of both the public and the aspirants — and the 'cameramen.' It was Chef Dominatom (it would be hard to say such a name with a straight face, wouldn’t it?). Apparently, the judge had left his throne and was scowling at one of the aspirants with flames rising up from his head.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  Luca squinted his eyes. What was that…? The tiny dark bits looked like the remnants of the squid – dwarf kraken – but even calling them ‘strip meats’ felt too generous. Mmm. Wasn’t one of the Death Rules that the ingredients had to be respected?

  “Chef – I– I,” the aspirant stammered, their antennae moving up and down. Their voice carried around the entire place – an effect of the acoustics, perhaps.

  “Screwed,” someone murmured gleefully. Similar whispers rippled through the air.

  “Excuse me, Chef Dominatom–” the shadowy figure emerged next to the counter in a flash of black light. “Ejem, ejem, I’m afraid you must repress your temptation to ignite, curse, or feed Aspirant 7 to the piranhas until the end of the round. Those are the rules.”

  The judge snarled, causing all the relief of the aspirant to evaporate with his next words. “Aspirant 7? I’ll remember this well.” With a sneer, he turned back and jumped onto his throne, still scowling even as he sat.

  Anyone and their mother could see that the presenter had simply prolonged the inevitable – including the aspirant. However, they bowed at the shadow before continuing to cook.

  “Fifteen minutes left, my dears~”

  The rest of the aspirants hurried, running around their stations. Luca began analyzing some of the cooking techniques, gaining an understanding of them and the way the aspirants cooked. It wasn’t different from human cuisine — except for the ingredients, maybe. He didn’t know if the dwarf kraken could be handled like octopus or squid.

  In the book, Morrigan went in the third round and had to deal with a gnome, which was considered lamb for demons. Luca recalled it with precision because of his little brother’s disgust. According to Shawn, he would never eat something “so ugly” — which wasn’t the best priority, but what did he know?

  His eyes scanned the stations from top to bottom. It was better to find out how the demon appliances differed, particularly regarding the dangers. The oven, for example. Its shape wasn’t much different from the counter — which, in turn, resembled a human counter — but it had a burning fire beneath it, like a fireplace. At first glance, the system seemed under control.

  … But then, kitchen accidents were one reason why aspirants ended up busted.

  A boom reverberated around the entire space, provoking screams from the audience and many aspirants. Red, vivid flames spread across the station of the unfortunate demon. The culprit — a furry wolf-headed man — fell on his butt, charred but alive, while a squadron of blue imps materialized next to him with water buckets and took care of the remaining flames.

  “No! Not the dish!” Jumping to his feet, the demon grabbed the plate – but not before it was too late. “Nemesis! I’ll kill you, you fucking rat–” the aspirant growled at the imp, raising paws filled with claws. And promptly let out a shrill scream when the fire, which had been extinguished, suddenly flared up again, taking the shape of a hand and hurling him straight into the lava pool. The surface bubbled for only a second.

  Excitement erupted in the audience as the shadowy figure reappeared next to the station. “It seems the fire hadn’t been put out properly,” the presenter sighed, and with a snap of his fingers, the imp at the center of the scene disappeared. The rest of them had scattered the moment the wolf demon had screamed for the first time.

  Luca heard something small fall into the pool, feeling a bit of pity for the creature. And at the same time, it seemed as though the shadowy figure held a truly antagonistic relationship with the chef, and neither cared about dragging the rest – aspirants or employees alike – into their pit.

  Great. And they still classified this world as a one-star Mystery.

  “Three minutes left!”

  Time flew, and the tension grew. The number of aspirants had dwindled to nineteen, but it was obvious that a quarter of them wouldn’t even be able to present a complete dish. As desperation ran rampant, the environment shifted from frenetic to pure chaos.

  A dark-winged demon with the face of an owl ‘lost their balance’ and dropped an entire pot of ‘something’ onto another aspirant’s counter – and was promptly burned to a crisp. But the damage was already done. Even the bear-like judge was looking at the dish – drowned in the ‘mysterious sauce’ – as if it were shit.

  The presenter tsked. “Don’t start making trouble, my dears~ You don’t want to end up in Chef Harpira’s Pits, do you?”

  The named judge’s face didn’t change, but her glacial, deep-set eyes swept over them – even the aspirants outside the platform. Luca felt like a wave of cold crashed against him.

  “Ten seconds left!”

  These had to be the messiest seconds he had ever seen – and he had worked in the food industry for years. The demons resorted to raw dishes, using knives, cutting their dishes with their own claws, and even teeth.

  Hoped they brushed them, Luca thought.

  Well. At least the audience seemed to enjoy it, judging by the level of noise they were making.

  “Time’s out!”

  With a snap of the shadowy figure’s fingers, the stations disappeared instantly, leaving only the dishes floating precariously in the air. The judges descended as one from their thrones and made their way to the first aspirant as members of the Execution Team. Eyes flitted around the scene like flies drawn to a blood fountain.

  The first row of dishes were the farthest from the aspirants, and closer to the audience, probably so they could watch the undeniable tension.

  “Raw,” there was no hesitation in Chef Harpira’s voice. She didn’t taste it –simply cutting the smallest piece of whatever was in the plate.

  “Blah!” Cheft Tartarus didn’t even bother to test it.

  “Did you cook this in Angra’s blood?” Cheft Dominatom's disgust was clear on his face.

  It was a massacre. Literal.

  Chef Dominatom stayed in front of the aspirant that the presenter had ‘protected’, and dragged a claw against the counter. The screeching sound made Luca’s skin crawl, and considering the reactions of others, he wasn't alone in the sudden urge to rubb his arms.

  Shouldn't be Cheft Harpira's turn? He wondered then, tucking the small detail for later.

  “Soo-”the demon smiled, showing pointy, sharp-teeth. “This is what you will serve us?”

  The aspirant couldn’t even speak, nodding like a chicken peaking rice.

  Slowly, very slowly, the judge picked up a thin piece of the collection and the whole word seemed to held their breath as the demon brought it to his mouth. And munched. His face changed little by little. His skin flushed dark red, and his horns trembled. He opened his mouth and let out a flame straight to the aspirant.

  To say that there were ashes left of the poor demon was being generous.

  “Ugh. I fucking hate spice.”

  Noted. No Broken Tongue, Blood Tears or whatever the fuck they had available. Only salt.

  As the noise cascaded down in the place again, the judges kept their death march.

  Luca toyed with his vial, thoughful. Perhaps… perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad idea. Even if the demon's ingredients had equivalents on the human side, it would be wise to start recognizing a handful of them from now.

  Having made his decision, he rubbed his right eye –just in case– and let a drop fall directly onto it from the vial. Blinking, the world become blurry for a moment.

  [Tears of Discernment has been activated. Duration: 59:59]