Chapter 293

“W-What is this!?”

Mari raises her voice in disbelief as she looks at the results of the match.

No, it wasn’t just Mari who was shocked by the outcome.

“Why did the crab meat soup…”

“…We won?”

Not only Karina, who had voted for the clam chowder like Mari, but even Serena, who had voted for the crab meat soup but had inwardly accepted defeat after seeing the rest of the party vote differently, couldn’t hide their shock.

Despite the narrow margin, the result was completely opposite to our party’s opinion.

“Come to think of it, didn’t Mr. Kurt say earlier that he knew the result would turn out like this!?”

“Is that true?”

“Now that you mention it, I think he did say something like that…”

Mari, still stunned, quietly stared at the result and then turned to me, remembering what I had said before the announcement, seeking an answer.

“That’s right. I definitely said that.”

“How did you predict that? The clam chowder at the Red Shell Inn has been preserved, improved, and developed for decades…!”

“That’s exactly why.”

“Huh…?”

Mari tilts her head, clearly not understanding my explanation.

“Mari. How would you feel if I told you I’d make fried chicken for lunch tomorrow?”

“Excited!”

“And what if I made fried chicken every day after that?”

“Yay!”

“….”

“But why are we suddenly talking about chicken?”

It seems my analogy didn’t land.

Mari, having never experienced eating the same dish repeatedly until she got tired of it, doesn’t seem to grasp the meaning of being served fried chicken every day.

“…Let’s change the subject. Mari, why did you leave the Elf Village to become an adventurer?”

“Because as an adventurer, I can travel the world and experience new things.”

“Then was the Elf Village such a terrible place that you couldn’t stand living there anymore?”

“Of course not! The Elf Village was a wonderful place! Always peaceful and surrounded by beautiful natural scenery! But even the best place can get… tiring if you live there every day…”

Mari’s words slow down as she seems to realize something, her eyes widening as she falls silent.

“Exactly. No matter how good a place is, after living there your whole life, you’ll want to go to new lands, see new sights, and meet new people.”

And the same goes for food.

In economics, there’s a concept called the law of diminishing marginal utility.

The term itself might sound complicated, but the idea is simple: the satisfaction you get from consuming a good—whether it’s a service or food—decreases the more you consume it.

For example, if I make dumplings for someone who loves them, they’ll be thrilled.

If I make dumplings again the next day, they’ll still be happy.

But what if I make dumplings every day for a week? Would they still be as excited as they were on the first day?

And what if I made dumplings for lunch every day for 15 years? Would they still be happy to see dumplings?

That’s how it works. Even the most delicious food loses its appeal when eaten repeatedly.

This can also be described as getting “bored” or falling into a “rut.”

Of course, the satisfaction from food doesn’t just decrease indefinitely. By alternating with other foods, you can delay getting bored, or by not eating something for a long time, you can reignite your desire for it.

But the Red Shell Inn’s clam chowder is all too familiar to the people of Leila.

After all, it’s the most beloved restaurant in Leila.

In other words, the people of Leila have grown accustomed to the innkeeper’s cooking.

“We’re adventurers from outside Leila, so every time we eat the innkeeper’s clam chowder, it feels like a fresh delicacy. We only came to Leila to hunt sea golems in the summer and for this event. But what about the people of Leila?”

“It’s delicious, but… also too familiar and comforting…”

“Exactly. And in that situation, if a new dish—one they’ve never tried before—appears, with similar cooking skill and taste?”

To our party, the innkeeper’s clam chowder and Drake’s crab meat soup tasted equally delicious.

But for the people of Leila, who have grown up eating the clam chowder—some even for three generations—the taste of the crab meat soup stood out more vividly.

“So, in the end, the crab meat soup from Lowdrake Restaurant won not because it was tastier, but because it was newer?”

“You could say that. But even so, it was a close match, almost 50-50… Thanks to the improved recipe, I guess.”

I never imagined the flavor would evolve even further.

“…But is that really okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“But isn’t it unfair? The outcome wasn’t decided by the taste or skill of the cooking, but by familiarity and novelty…”

Mari frowns, clearly dissatisfied with the result.

Beside her, Karina and Serena nod silently in agreement.

“Hmph.”

“What’s so funny? Mr. Kurt, are you unhappy that Leila’s best restaurant was decided for such a reason?”

“Of course.”

“…Huh?”

“Don’t get me wrong. A chef doesn’t cook to show off their skills or for personal satisfaction. A chef cooks to satisfy the people eating the food. That’s all. Would a chef who forces an elf who doesn’t eat meat to eat steak be a good chef? Would a chef who serves octopus or squid dishes to a Black Tentacle Cult priest who avoids them for religious reasons be a good chef?”

“…Uh. Mr. Kurt. Do you even eat squid?”

“….”

“….”

“Ahem! Anyway, the most important thing for a chef isn’t skill or knowledge, but whether they can satisfy the people eating their food. In the end, this match was an extension of that—cooking while considering the eaters’ habits, culture, and religion.”

“Wait a minute. But Mr. Kurt, when you cooked sea golems or man-eating crabs, you didn’t really consider our preferences, did you?”

“….”

“….”

“But in the end, you enjoyed it, right? If you enjoyed it, then it’s fine.”

If you wanted to complain, you should’ve refused to eat it.

“Huh. Suddenly, I feel all bubbly inside…”

“Ahem! Anyway, whether Drake and the innkeeper were aware of it or not, in this match, Drake satisfied more people. And he did it without bribing the judges or tampering with the ingredients or tools. So there’s no reason to be dissatisfied with the result.”

“…I see. So understanding the audience’s preferences is also part of the match.”

“Exactly. And it seems both participants accepted the result.”

Mari nods in understanding, and I point to the two men shaking hands in front of us.

.

.

.

The owner of the Red Shell Inn was surprisingly unfazed by the outcome.

Of course, he had outwardly acted uninterested in the match to determine Leila’s best restaurant, but inwardly, he hadn’t expected to lose.

His confidence had only grown after improving his recipe by purchasing ingredients from a goblin-run company in Astram.

Even on the day of the match, he wasn’t particularly nervous.

Not because he was detached from the competition, but because he was so confident in his victory.

But the moment he tasted Drake’s crab meat soup, a quiet realization of potential defeat crept into his heart.

Yet, he felt no anxiety or unease.

Instead, he felt admiration and respect for his competitor who had created such a splendid dish.

If such a dish could lead to his defeat, he could accept it.

Objectively, he believed his clam chowder, refined over three generations, was superior in flavor.

But while he had made significant progress by changing the way he prepared the clam chowder, Drake had already surpassed him in handling the poison of sea monsters.

Standing in the middle of the square, the innkeeper extended his hand to Drake.

“I’m impressed. I never expected such a dish.”

*Clasp*

“Same here. I thought I had it in the bag, but you brought out an even better recipe on the day of the match. My heart skipped a beat.”

Drake shakes the innkeeper’s hand with a grin.

“I lost. The title of Leila’s best restaurant is yours now. Not that I ever officially claimed it before.”

“Hmph. You don’t look too upset about it.”

“No. Even though I lost, I learned something. Next time, I’ll win.”

“Ha! Already thinking about the next match? You’re a scary guy, pretending not to care about the competition!”

The two men laugh heartily, their faces free of any bitterness from the cooking match.

.

.

.

“Wow! Even after the match to determine Leila’s best, they’re acknowledging each other! What a refreshing sight!”

“What a heated battle between men!”

“Woooo! I’m moved!!”

The crowd, who had initially joined just for the free food, couldn’t hide their emotions and cheered at the sight of the two men respecting each other.

Yes.

Cooking isn’t about making people unhappy—it’s about bringing them joy.

In that sense, the two men’s graceful acceptance of the outcome and mutual respect felt like true sportsmanship.

“See? It ended well. No need to worry.”

“Hehe. You’re right.”

Mari scratches her head, embarrassed that she had been so upset about the innkeeper’s loss.

Honestly, before the match, I had thought Drake, with his pirate-like appearance, might be some arrogant fool declaring, “Citizens of Leila! Your boring cuisine is over! From now on, I will cleanse and rule Leila’s rotten food culture!” or something like, “Hehehe. I’ll obliterate you with my cooking!” But I was surprised to find he was a skilled and humble chef.

Honestly, I thought he looked like a pirate, but I guess you can’t judge a book by its cover.

And then it happened.

“Nobody move!”

Fully armed soldiers stormed into the venue.

“W-What! Who are you!?”

“Wait! Those uniforms… They’re Leila’s guards!?”

“Why are they here!?”

The crowd’s cries of confusion were met with the sight of the guards’ unmistakable armor.

As the crowd struggled to comprehend the situation, a woman who appeared to be the captain stepped forward.

“We are here to arrest Drake, the leader of the Lowdrake Pirate Crew! If you surrender without resistance, we won’t use force… Ah! He’s running! After him!”

But before the captain could finish, Drake swiftly grabbed his cooking tools and fled the venue.

And so, the first and last match to determine Leila’s best restaurant came to an end.

…He really was a pirate.