Chapter 434: The Pharaoh's Press Conference
Outside the entrance to the enclosed competition venue, a high platform—built with wooden boards and steel frames and directly connected to the building's main gate—was set up specifically for this press conference.
On the platform sat a long rectangular table in the center, adorned with gold and silver vases overflowing with red roses. The side of the table facing the audience was covered with a red tablecloth, embroidered with a golden logo in the style of Persian rug weaving: the image of a golden trophy seemingly inlaid into the fabric.
Behind the table were five luxurious red leather sofas, grand as kingly thrones, with gilded armrests and legs embedded with shimmering diamonds. Beneath each chair, a red carpet embroidered with gold thread stretched out, leading directly into the building's main passageway.
The side of the platform facing the public was far more modest; rows of ordinary chairs were filled with representatives and reporters from renowned culinary media outlets from around the world. The presenter from the TV station mentioned earlier didn't even have a seat here and had to rely on adjusting her camera's zoom lens to provide long-distance coverage.
However, these influential media figures were, at this very moment, staring blankly at the platform.
They were captivated by the person who had just walked out. She was like a star born to shine; when faced with camera lenses, she seemed to glow, her every movement commanding the attention of every man present.
Walking up the red carpet was a tall woman with long, straight black hair and snow-white skin. She wore stylish high heels and cat-walked with a rhythmic grace, displaying the stage presence of an international supermodel. Compared to other world-class models, she possessed an additional aura of nobility—a look of pride and confidence that she was the supreme queen of this place.
This self-assurance—the inner belief that she was the world's most beautiful woman, paired with her pride in her nobility, soul, virtue, and wisdom—was the charm that silenced everyone present.
The great beauty on the stage seemed to evoke a certain longing within mature men. This unique charm was difficult for even the most successful men to resist; even the most callous business magnates could not help but yearn for a simple romance in her presence.
Of course, this was not surprising. As one of the three recognized beauties of the East, she was on par with Yang Guifei and Ono no Komachi.
Yang Guifei goes without saying, and Ono no Komachi was a legendary beauty in Japanese history, to the point that "Komachi" became a synonym for "beauty." Many families named their daughters after her, hoping they would grow up to be lovely and charming. In a certain
world, a certain Shirou once remarked: "One Komachi is an angel; twenty thousand Komachi are hell."
As for the name Cleopatra, Hollywood blockbusters had spread the fame of the Queen of the Nile across the globe—almost everyone knew who she was. As the last Pharaoh of Egypt, one shouldn't think of her as merely a vassal dependent on her beauty to protect Egypt from the predatory gaze of the powerful Rome. She had no choice but to rely on conquerors like Caesar and Antony in succession.
But she was absolutely not just a pretty accessory. In the years she ruled as Pharaoh, she used her exceptional intellect, diplomatic maneuvers, and talent for commerce to transform a declining Egypt into a world-class economic powerhouse. The military funding for both Caesar's and Antony's campaigns was supported by her contributions.
In the era Cleopatra lived in, the only other woman with similar influence and fame worldwide was Wang Zhaojun during the reign of Emperor Yuan of Han. Though she held the title of the beauty who "made geese fall from the sky" and was later honored as a messenger of peace with ethnic minorities, even without setting aside the embellished unofficial histories and rumors of later generations, one could not hide the fact that Zhaojun was a sacrifice sent to the Xiongnu for a political marriage after the Han Dynasty began its decline. Historical records state that Zhaojun had been married for less than two years when the Chanyu (ruler of the Xiongnu) died. She requested to return home, but the Emperor refused. She had no choice but to follow Xiongnu custom and marry the son who inherited the throne.
By comparison, Cleopatra burned with passion during her years of youth and beauty. She was truly qualified to call herself the world's most beautiful woman.
"May I ask your name?" "Which country's star are you?" "How old are you? Do you have a partner?"
At the press conference, people momentarily lost their heads in their desperation to get a question in, forgetting the professional unwritten rules they had followed for years.
"Everyone, please be quiet. This is the press conference for the Chef's Grand Prix. If you are interested in me personally, please do so after the convention... okay?" Cleopatra placed a finger to her lips and pleaded. Those staring at her stopped arguing, and the once-noisy scene instantly fell silent.
The beauty hosting the press conference began to speak: "First, let me introduce this gentleman, the leader behind this project, known as the peerless, handsome man—as long as he loses a hundred pounds—who is world-renowned and comparable to Apollo!!!"
Although the woman on stage seemed to be trying very hard to say nice things about the person she was introducing, it didn't seem like many people believed her.
"..." The people below had expressions that suggested: The beauty on stage is really pretty, and her voice is lovely, but what she's saying is bizarre, and her aesthetic sense is deeply flawed. Is
she lying? Is it really as Mom said, that the more beautiful a woman is, the less you can believe her?
"Th-this! You can verify it with the slim-face filter on your mobile phone!" Cleopatra, desperate to increase her persuasiveness, pulled out her own iPhone to demonstrate.
"..." The reporters below looked at her with indulgent eyes. Even if she was lying, of course they would choose to forgive her.
Cleopatra continued to praise him, undeterred: "This gentleman also possesses incredible personal charm! Just by speaking up, he convinced Egyptian multinational corporations to voluntarily provide 90% of the funding for this convention!"
"As for his ability to appreciate fine food, no one should have any doubts! Because this remarkable man has another title! That is... the Caesar of the gourmet judging world!!!"
The Pharaoh—no, the host—raised a hand and pointed to the big screen behind her. Simultaneously, ceremonial cannons fired, filling the sky with ribbons and flower petals, decorating the screen with magical colors.
The image shifted to the organizers' press conference, and the camera zoomed in on the man sitting in the center. The person on the screen was a rotund, red-haired Saber with a big belly, but he spoke quite pleasantly!!!
"Hello, hello. Gentlemen, thank you for coming to this press conference. And greetings to the viewers watching the live stream." The red Saber waved benevolently at the public through the camera, just as he did when he was running for office and hoping to win the citizens' votes.
"Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh." Warm applause erupted from the surrounding audience.
"Oh, although it wasn't mentioned before, I didn't expect such a big shot," someone exclaimed in admiration.
Beside her, Cleopatra seemed to exhale a sigh of relief. One had to wonder how much money she had spent to buy positive PR for Caesar.
"Caesar? I hadn't heard of this person before. The title is quite intimidating, though," Erina said, watching the "red fatty" on TV with a serious expression.
"No, no, that's because he is that Caesar..." Shirou waved his hand, his eyes dead-fish-like, his words trailing off. Thinking that getting into a debate would be a hassle, he was too lazy to explain further, only complaining to himself.
In the current world dominated by Western culture, of the seven billion people, those who haven't heard of "Caesar the Great" are certainly fewer than those who have. From the establishment of the Roman Empire until the nineteenth century, the nominal legitimate ruler of Europe was the Roman Emperor Caesar. For nearly two thousand years, European nations were essentially vassal states of Rome; only those who held the title of "Caesar" could be considered the recognized legitimate leaders of Europe.
Although Caesar never held the title of Emperor for a single day, he possessed the power of one in reality. His surname became synonymous with "Emperor" in the West. Much like how Qin Shi Huang invented the title of "Emperor" (Huangdi) in the East, Caesar became the symbol of Western emperors.
Qin Shi Huang achieved the true unification of the culture, standardizing roads, writing, and measurements. He established the consensus of "Great Unification" for future generations. If he hadn't messed up trying to attain immortality, the Qin Dynasty would have been unshakable as long as he lived.
Caesar, meanwhile, was the genius who drafted the blueprint for the Ancient Roman Empire and the founder who conquered Gaul and laid the foundations for Rome. He traveled across Europe, Asia, and Africa, campaigning everywhere—and being a foodie, he ate wherever he conquered. After becoming a Heroic Spirit and encountering the cuisine of later generations, he ate himself into a ball. As a gourmet and critic, there was absolutely no doubt about his credentials.
"In short, he is more than qualified to be a judge," Shirou changed his tune.
"But... he's so fat he looks like he could roll away, doesn't he?" Erina said, not fully convinced.
The same logic applies to chefs: many who cook mass-produced meals end up overweight, while many top-tier chefs look lean. Whether you are the one making the food or the one tasting it, once you reach a certain level, the demands on the cuisine become much higher. Generally speaking, once you reach the level of a top-tier gourmet, you become increasingly picky. Erina's "God Tongue," for instance, was so sensitive that unless the food was truly excellent, she couldn't swallow it; just tasting it was enough to disgust her.
Delicious food that others found acceptable was, to her, a defective product full of flaws. The moment it entered her mouth, the inadequacies of the dish were exposed—like a dented basketball: even if it could still roll and bounce, it was deeply uncomfortable. Like a master tea or wine taster, these skills require years of accumulation.
Why can one chef sell a dish for a few dozen dollars, while another can sell the same dish for thousands? Ordinary people can taste that the expensive one is better, but they cannot articulate why it is worth thousands more. In her mind, dozens of flaws appear: not enough salt, ingredients not fresh enough, poor preparation left a fishy smell, the meat was too tough... How could she enjoy a meal like that?
"Shirou, you also hope to make your customers feel happy through your cooking here at this shop, don't you?" Erina asked.
"Yeah, that's exactly right," Shirou thought for a moment and nodded in agreement.
"Exactly!" Erina analyzed, "Qualified chefs are all like that. My cooking pursues deliciousness and splendor; it must be perfect visually and gastronomically. From those two points, it
branches out, continuously deepening into the person's body, spreading the beauty of the dish to all the senses, allowing the person to reach the ultimate sense of satisfaction."
For a true chef, eating is never just about filling one's stomach; it is about savoring the experience. Eating slowly and mindfully naturally means one doesn't eat much.
Once they become famous, they are often invited to meet guests, and their own image becomes their brand; they have to maintain it. In fact, among the chefs of Shirou and Erina's generation who have made a name for themselves, most are people who possess both culinary skill and good looks.
"You understand now, right! As a gourmet, I am also a professional!" Erina flipped her blonde bangs, her long hair swaying behind her. She raised her right hand, pointed it at Shirou, and spoke with absolute certainty.
It was true; Erina's tongue was world-class. Countless restaurants lined up and paid for her to taste their new menu developments. If it weren't for the fact that she was a contestant in this competition, she likely would have been invited to serve as a judge in the previous qualifying rounds. As for the Top 4, considering the presence of her grandfather, Nakiri Senzaemon, it would be impossible to invite her to avoid a conflict of interest—not to mention that, aside from her grandfather, the person she was most intimate with was a certain "Mask X."
Fine, but now... Shirou finally understood. This young lady wasn't struggling with Caesar's ability; her competitive spirit as a gourmet had simply been accidentally provoked.
"You're right, Erina. But Caesar is actually quite picky about food, too. Of course! If I had to choose, I would definitely rather have the perfectly-built, top-tier gourmet Erina-sama taste the food I make," Shirou said calmly, placing a cup of brewed black tea on the table where the blonde girl sat.
"Right~!!" Erina was delighted by Shirou's reply.
However, she immediately withdrew her smile, crossed her arms with pride, and changed her tone: "...Hmph! Who do you think I am? My God Tongue is more than enough to serve as a judge even in this Chef's Grand Prix!"
"Yes, yes," Shirou smiled, looking at Erina's slightly parted lips. He complained to himself: Yes, yes, I know exactly what your tongue tastes like.
"Wait! Shirou! Where are you looking!?" Erina noticed that suggestive gaze, sensed something was wrong, and asked suspiciously.
"At Erina-sama's beautiful lips, of course," Shirou answered honestly.
Erina blushed, suppressing a sweet smile, and playfully hit Shirou's shoulder, saying, "Idiot! Idiot!"
Hisako, serving as background scenery, squinted her eyes, sipping her own tea while looking at the TV, completely unfazed by their behavior. It seemed that even in broad daylight, she
couldn't avoid being fed "dog food" (PDA). Was this really how Shirou and the Young Lady were? Time truly changes people...
'Ah... if I had known it would turn into this, I wouldn't have become her secretary.' 'You idiot couple, go get married already! It's infuriating!'
At that moment, after Caesar answered a few questions from reporters, the press conference moved to the next phase.
The host, Ms. Cleopatra, raised her hand and shouted loudly: "Next is a noble, hard-core warrior from Greece, Mr. Alexander! He is the key contributor to this Grail Chef competition! It is because he traveled to over a hundred countries, meeting with government departments and rulers of various kingdoms, and reaching a consensus through dialogue, that this world tournament could be successfully held!"
Read ahead (60 chapters) by supporting me on buymeacoffee com/varietl or ko-fi edwriting