The Gourmet Hall, the knockout round will be held today.

Dressed in a crisp white chef's suit, Mira strode into the arena, the purple badge on her chest gleaming in the soft morning sun.

This is the identity she must have to step onto the stage.

"Look at that orc, how about we bet on her today, how about losing?"

"Go, go, flash, I'm also a native of the food capital, and I'm going to play and find tourists."

Such scenes are still sampled in many places. With the amazing effect of Mira's last dish, she has become a cash cow for many local residents.

Anyone who has lived in the City of Gastronomy knows very well that orcs will never pass the knockout round, even if the Gastronomy Association never says it explicitly, but that's the way it is.

In the forty years since the food contest was held, no orc has been able to make it out of the knockout round.

They believe that this gastronomic association, this rule will not change, so they will take advantage of the limelight in Mira to reap a wave of krona.

The sound of the 'dang' gong filled the audience, and the contestants began to enter.

Mira walked into her stove with the number plate in hand, her nose moved slightly, her eyebrows furrowed, and the smell of inferior spices filled her nostrils, and she wanted to cough.

It seems that this is one of the little tricks played by the food association, and spices alone can't stop her.

With the host's excited tone, the knockout round officially began.

The grit falls, the red cloth is removed, today's topic, rice.

Let's make the cured rice that Chen Cheng handed over to him today, I really don't know how he knows so many recipes.

Thinking of Chen Cheng lying on the bed, a touch of tenderness appeared in Mira's eyes, and the corners of her mouth hooked up with a smile, and sure enough, she couldn't escape as Betty said.

Pick up the soaked japonica rice from the water, apply a layer of grease evenly in the casserole, and start making.

The cleaner standing in the passage of the audience saw the purple light flashing on Mira's body, and the hand pushing the cleaning cart trembled for no reason.

Hurriedly rubbed his eyes with both hands, but the badge was still there.

Sky God, is this a joke you are playing with me? How can an orc get his hands on the Alliance badge.

Stopping his trembling palms, he hurriedly took out the words and dialed them out.

"That orc is an Alliance person, and she has the Union insignia on her." There was inevitably some trembling in the words, and in late autumn, cold sweat soaked his forehead in an instant. The subhumans of the Alliance are not the same thing as the orcs outside.

"What style?"

"Purple, with a star and silver dots around it" The throat rolled up and down, hiding in the shadows, but his eyes were fixed on the white figure.

"Cancel the arrangement, and the next judge will be replaced by Li Xi."

The busy sound of "doodoo" came from Beizhong, and the other party had hung up.

He shuddered and pushed the cleaning cart out of the aisle, and with the Alliance's endorsement, this subhuman was no longer something he could provoke.

In front of the Mira stove, the smell of rice has begun to appear in a casserole the size of a washbasin.

The lid of the pot was lifted, and a white mist with a fragrance rose into the air, and the sizzling sound came from the side of the pot.

The preserved meat is spread on top of the hot white rice, and the fat on the cured meat is slowly dissolved by the heat, giving the rice a smoky flavor.

Lower the lid, turn to low heat and simmer to better blend the cured meat with the rice.

Mira was not idle, and began to mix the sauce of the cured rice.

Only the rice soaked in fat and smoky flavor can't make her smooth progress.

A few leafy greens are also scooped up from the pot and the final step begins.

An egg is broken and poured into the rice that has been dug in a hole, and the vegetables are placed in a casserole, and the soup is poured over the white rice and simmered.

It wasn't until the flavor of the spices mixed with the smoke wafted out that Mira turned off the heat.

The stove bell rang and she was done.

A casserole the size of a washbasin was served to the judges' bench, and immediately a member of the food association sitting on the edge of the table slapped the table and scolded angrily.

"We are judges, what do you treat us like this?"

Mira's eyes were staring straight at the judges, her face expressionless. The coat of arms reflected the sun's rays, and the purple star was shrouded in a layer of fluorescence.

"Mike, don't worry, since Miss Mira serves the food like this, she naturally has her purpose." The middle-aged man sitting in the main seat glanced at the badge and waved his hand for Mike, who was sitting on the edge, to sit down.

Mike's eyes widened, unlike what they had discussed. However, he still obeyed the order of the vice president and sat quietly.

It wasn't until the judges' bench was silent that Mira reached out to lift the lid of the casserole, and the smoky aroma instantly filled the air.

"Lap-mei claypot rice."

The rice is gently stirred, and the golden rice is charred from the side of the pot, and the aroma of the fat mixed with the rice fragrance is even better.

Bowls of rice, dyed brown and red with sauce, mixed with birds' eggs, cured meat, and vegetables, were served to the judges' tables.

As the vice president began to taste it, the other judges followed suit and brought the rice to their mouths.

The sound of the white porcelain spoon and the celadon bowl colliding with each other became the only sound in the judges' seat.

The sound is reduced, and the celadon bowl is as smooth as new, not like rice.

In the audience, many local bookmakers watched this scene in shock.

No, why do you eat so much food cooked by an orc who is going to be eliminated? A bad premonition permeated their hearts.

The next step was the scoring session, but none of the judges dared to take the lead in raising their cards.

Mike's eyes kept an eye on the vice-president sitting in the main seat, and the reprimand he had just given him uncertainty about how to score.

The other judges are also waiting for the results of the main judges' scores.

"Little girl, the afterlife is terrifying." The vice president raised the scorecard in his hand and looked at Mira with a smile.

I don't know if it's her cooking skills or alliance status.

9.8

As soon as the scores were revealed, the other judges immediately picked up.

9.5 9.8 9.6 9.9 9.9

"How is that possible? Shady, it must be shady. ”

"It's over"

"Cool, 15 times."

"Ahh

Two completely different voices erupted in the audience, with the angry roar of the dealer and the loneliness and frustration. There were also tourists holding tickets who cheered loudly and celebrated.

It's a pity that all this can't affect Mira standing on the stage. Silently taking the promotion card handed by the host, she left the food hall amid the cheers of the crowd.

Food contest, but that's it. A sigh appeared in her heart, and she didn't know what to use to express her feelings now.

The joy is not as much as imagined, but there is a faint sense of loss.

Is that what your dreams are?

A dream born from a food contest will naturally be influenced by it.

After passing through the dim and deep corridor, Mira stepped out of the arena and was once again illuminated by the warm sun.

In a dimly lit alley, a blood-stained cleaning truck is lying on the ground alone, and its owner has long since disappeared.