Chapter 25: Contest #2-The Cooking Contest
We had signed up for all three of the tournaments. The first day was dedicated to the Individual Slave Competition. The second day was dedicated to the Individual Master Competition. The third day would be the Team Competition.
"ALL RIGHTY, EVERYONE!-!-! HOW WAS THAT FIRST TEST, HUH?!-!-!" the announcer roared, and everyone cheered. "NOW ARE YOU READY FOR THE FIRST ONE OF THE INDIVIDUAL SLAVE COMPETITION?!-!-! THIS YEAR'S CHORE CONTEST IS...!-!-! C-O-O-K, COOKING!-!-!-!-!-!-!" The crowd roared. I gulped.
Will Todoroki-kun be okay...?
I glanced beside Kacchan, where Todoroki-kun stood.
(I hope I do well, too...)
"For this round, five slaves will battle it out in their attempt to get the most points!-!-!"
One out of five?!-!-! Those aren't good odds!-!-!
"Midoriya, are you all right? You look pale..." Todoroki-kun commented, to which he earned a glare from Kacchan. I didn't respond since I couldn't. (I'd be in trouble if I did...)
"The groups are made by the last name of the slave! The slaves will all make the same thing, but they will only be told what it is that they're making a minute before they begin!-! They will be offered any ingredients they wish, but they can only use three, excluding spices!-!"
I gulped.
O...Only three... I-I hope it's not... too difficult... of a dish to do with very few ingredients...!-!
"AND NOW, IZUKU MIDORIYA, KAZU TORIBE, HAJIMO KURUTE, ABIROTO KAORITO, AND HASURI TORIKE!-!-!-!-!"
Tha-That's me-!-!-!
I gulped one last time and prayed as I walked out on the stage, tying my apron on.
Once we were all in a line in front of the stage, the announcer declared, "Okay, the thing you are to make is~~~~~!-!-! A vegetable stir-fry!-!-! Now, keep in mind that the judges today are your very own Masters!-!-!" My eyes bulged at that. I looked at Kacchan, who was down at the judge's table with Todoroki-kun sitting on the floor beside him. Todoroki-kun had a blindfold and headphones on (probably to prevent him from knowing what he'll be making...). "Your Masters will judge you on a score of one to ten, with ten being the best!-! The results will be posted on the board after all of the groups have gone!"
There must be some kind of quirk that's blocking this noise from reaching those backstage...
"Now. Once this timer rings," he held up a device, "You may grab your ingredients and run to the station with your name tag!-!" I gulped once more, my body shaking with the urge to get started.
(Todoroki-kun won't do well with this... He has no idea of Kacchan's tastes!-!-!)
{Deku is muttering now, by the way.}
A vegetable stir-fry, a vegetable stir-fry... I'll grab some Carolina reaper, Trinidad Moruga scorpion, and 7 Pot Douglah, along with plenty of spices!-! {Thank you, /top-10-worlds-hottest-peppers/ !-! [Because the world knows, I don't know crud about spicy things.]} Let's see, that's the Carolina reaper; oh, there's some ghost pepper in spice form! There's the Trinidad Moruga scorpion, and there's the 7 Pot Douglah-!
I was shaking violently by the time the timer finally rang, and I ran as fast as I could to the ingredients. I grabbed as many spices as I could, as well as the three latest vegetables that had been ranked the spiciest: Carolina reaper, Trinidad Moruga scorpion, and 7 Pot Douglah.
I ran to my station and hurried to cook. I was already covered in sweat, just from anxiety!-!
(I have to do well; I have to do well; I have to do well-)
Kacchan's P.O.V.
So annoying...
(But, Deku's muttering is distracting the other slaves, so I guess that's good...)
My nose twitched in distaste as I frowned in the same distaste.
He f*cking stinks though... I can smell it from here.
I glanced at my other slave, who was obediently sitting at my feet like a proper dog. He had to wear a blindfold and headphones to be out here, but I didn't give a sh*t about that. They can put a f*cking gag or handcuffs on him if they like. I don't give a sh*t.
Deku, however, doesn't need anything like that since he's a good pet. He does what he's told.
That's why he'll probably ace everything but the combat round.
Luckily, everything is weighted on a scale this time (probably since so many were eliminated in the first round), so I'll be able to see his level of skill for everything, even if the combat round is right after this. Ah. Speaking of which...
"EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! OOOOONE!-!-!-!-!-!-! TIME'S UP, FOLKS; BRING YOUR DISHES UP TO YOUR MASTER!-!-!-!-!"
Deku visibly gulped, shaking, as he walked up. I scowled.
He's gonna f*cking drop it...
Deku yelped, about to fall face first, but the slave beside him caught him with a condescending smirk.
"All that stinky sweat and muttering, and you're gonna drop the result?" he snickered and resumed walking as Deku blinked, apparently processing the fact that he hadn't fallen like an absolute moron. I waited impatiently, tapping my fingers on my crossed arms.
"Oi! Deku!" I demanded, and he snapped out of it.
"Oh! Sorry, Kacchan!-!" he hurried over. (Don't you f*cking trip or drop it, dipsh*t!)
"Che," I scowled.
Call me Master here...
"OOO-KAY, FIRST UP TO TASTE IS Hasuri Torike'S MASTER, KOIYAMA RANJI!-!-!-!-!" the announcer declared, and cheers were heard from the stands. I scoffed.
(And Deku's still muttering and shaking like a cold, wet dog... Che.)
The old man sneered, "My Hasuri is, of course, the best in cooking...!-!"
The girl timidly set the plate on the table. She gulped. The man raised an eyebrow and frowned distastefully at her.
"What is this?"
"U-Um, i-it's," the girl spoke even quieter than Deku ever has, surprising me, "it's a, um, ve-vegetable stir-fry, ma-made with... ca-carrots a-and tu-turnips a-and, um... u-um potatoes... You... you like those... don't you... Master?" the girl was trembling, clearly about to cry.
"!" {Katsu}
Wait, what if a Master doesn't like vegetable stir-fries...? This guy looks entirely disgusted...
I glanced at my plate. (But, I'm not the biggest fan either, but this smells f*cking delicious, through Deku's stench...)
"Che," the man scowled at the plate. He picked up the chopsticks and put a piece in his mouth. He placed it in but immediately spat it back out.
The... h*ll?
"THIS IS DISGUSTING, B*TCH!-!-! EVEN THE G*DD*MNED POTATOES!-!-! YOU'VE RUINED IT! EMBARRASSED ME! YOU B*TCH!-!" the man was outraged, slapping the woman.
"..." I continued to watch from the corner of my eye, silent. I heard small shouts from around the stands. (Right, those idiots were coming, weren't they? That's probably them then...)
"O~kay~!-!" the announcer seemed a little awkward and nervous, "Sir, would you mind terribly to punish your slave in private...?" the man growled, glaring at the man but dragging the sobbing woman off the stage. I glanced at Izuku, who had tears erupting from his wide, horrified eyes. His hands were on his ears as if he was trying to block out the sound. I glanced at the other slaves. They were looking at it with contained expressions, but their wide eyes were bloodshot.
None of them wanted to be her. They were hoping their meal was good enough.
The announcer cleared his throat, "NEXT UP, KAZU TORIBE'S DISH WILL BE TASTED BY HIS MASTER, NAOMI SHIZUKA!-!-!-!" The boy set the plate on the table and bowed before backing back into the line. The woman lifted a piece into her mouth with her chopsticks and chewed it.
She then opened her eyes and declared, "I give it a ten out of ten." The audience roared. I glared at the woman. I glanced at Deku, who was staring at her in confusion, muttering under his breath.
"Huh? But she just gulped it down; she clearly didn't enjoy it or even stop to properly taste it!" he muttered, and my eyes widened. My head jerked towards her.
"NEXT UP, HAJIMO KURUTE WILL PRESENT HIS DISH TO HIS MASTER, TAOI SORIKE!-!-!-!" The crowd roared. This woman looked exactly like the woman beside her, only with more m***-*p and attitude.
The woman tasted it and immediately declared, "Ten. Out of. Ten." The crowds roared once more. I growled, glancing at Deku again, and yet again, he was muttering about how she didn't seem to think it a 10/10.
"FOURTH IN LINE, ABIROTO KAORITO'S MASTER, RASURI KOBE, TASTES HIS SLAVE'S DISH!-!-!-!"
And Deku started sweating bullets again...
(This Master still looks like someone from the Yakuza to me...)
The man tasted it, nodded, and declared, "I give it a seven out of ten." The crowd jeered. I snorted. (Better than those lying women...) I glanced at Deku.
"AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST FOR THIS ROUND IS KATSUKI BAKUGOU'S IZUKU MIDORIYA!-!-!-!"
(Finally.)
I straightened myself as Deku, with wobbly legs (Jesus), set the plate in front of me and gulped.
I scoffed, "Relax, moron," I picked up the chopsticks, and he bowed slightly before retreating back to the line of slaves. I put the first piece in my mouth, and spiciness exploded into my mouth, making my eyes shoot open. I smirked around the chopsticks.
(F*ck, what did he put in this...? The hottest peppers and spices in the world?)
I breathed in the sweet spiciness through my nose and enjoyed the piece. Once I swallowed that one, I grabbed a piece that looked different and enjoyed that, as well as the third type of piece, and I smirked at my slave.
"Well done, Deku. I would give it a nine out of ten. You could've added a little something to really make it the best." Deku breathed in slowly through the mouth and exhaled before he gave me a wary smile. He bowed heavily.
"Th-Thank you, Kacchan... I will remember that for next time...!-!"
And that was Deku's group.
Deku's P.O.V.
Todoroki-kun seemed really unhappy after my group went... He continued to be unhappy all the way until his group went... (His group was last...)
He kind of looked completely clueless when he was told he was making food for Kacchan though... He was slow to grab ingredients and slow to cook, although he was clearly concentrating once he started cooking.
I was anxious for him, really anxious, and the cooking time flew by in a whiz. Before I knew it, Kacchan was tasting Todoroki-kun's meal...!-!
Kacchan munched on each of the three pieces, just like he had mine, and he placed the chopsticks down before declaring, "Five out of ten. Completely mediocre," he scoffed. I chewed on my lip and looked away in utter embarrassment.
The announcer whistled, and I heard jeering from the stands. I winced. I risked a glance at Kacchan, and, as expected, he was seething.
(At least he's holding it in...)
"ALL RIGHTY, FOLKS, THE SCORES ARE INNNNNNNN!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-! " the announcer roared, "LOOK AT THE SCREEN BEHIND ME TO SEE YOUR SCORE!-!-!-!-!"
I gulped, sweating anxiously, as I looked up at the board. I froze after seeing a single word.
Disqualified.