"There may be a traitor among us."
Hearing that, I was startled. Had my identity already been exposed?
"Haruna, what are you talking about?"
Akari frowned, sounding displeased. "Running into a Millennium maid in an exhibition of this scale was definitely outside the intel, but it still falls under unexpected accidents. Are you seriously doubting the comrades who've fought beside you countless times just because of one unlucky incident?"
"Exactly! Didn't you see what that shorty did to me?"
Said Junko, who was only three centimeters taller than Nero.
Izumi glared resentfully at Haruna. "I think the real traitor is the person who left me behind and ran away alone."
"Ahem! Silence!"
Haruna coughed heavily to cover her embarrassment, then closed her eyes in anguish.
"I don't want to doubt any of you. In my heart, you're all my companions on the path to gourmet perfection. But once you understand the despair I experienced, you'll know why I had to say this…"
Haruna took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and shouted with grief and outrage.
"Why? The Breton (blue) lobster was supposed to be genuine, but it was actually just a regular lobster dyed red!"
…How are we still stuck on this version of reality?
The moment the Gourmet Research Society heard this, they all sucked in a sharp breath. Their expressions shifted wildly as they looked at one another with deep suspicion.
Everyone except Fuuka, whose dead-fish stare clearly said, "What in the world is wrong with these people?"
"We all know Millennium would never allow students to fake exhibits at a public showcase and damage the school's reputation. So someone must have tipped them off, prompting them to swap the ingredients beforehand. That's the only conclusion I can think of."
A good guess. Please don't guess next time.
And not one of them considered their intel might have been wrong?
"This is a blasphemy against the path of gourmet cuisine, an unforgivable betrayal." Haruna clenched her fists, the chains of her handcuffs clinking as she spoke fervently. "So, everyone, please begin proving your innocence."
"Haruna, you know me," Akari said. "I even skipped lunch today to save stomach space for the Breton lobster dish."
"I don't think you needed to go that far, but since you made such a sacrifice, of course I believe in your devotion to food."
"Hehe, thank you for the praise."
"Haruna, you know me," Junko said. "I have zero resistance to food of this caliber. There's no way I'd betray everyone."
"Your reason is flimsy, but based on your track record it's oddly convincing when applied to you. I'll allow it."
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!"
"Haruna, you know me," Izumi said. "I even prepared all kinds of seasonings!"
"…Very suspicious."
"Wait, what part of that is suspicious?"
Izumi protested. "Chocolate egg-yolk avocado sauce would go great with lobster!"
"…Fine. I'll put you under the maybe list. Then last…"
Haruna's eyes sharpened as she raised her voice.
"Why aren't you saying anything? Feeling guilty?"
"Hah? What does this have to do with me?"
Fuuka looked utterly confused. "I'm not even part of your club! I don't know anything about your plan!"
I finally understand. Every single one of you has some kind of absurd talent.
Haruna shook her head lightly and continued in a casual tone. "As for me, everyone knows how reliable I am, so I won't bother proving that. Sensei is our newly joined club advisor, so Sensei is clear of suspicion too."
Me? Club advisor?
I had no idea when I got that position, but speaking up seemed like a bad idea.
Because in truth, I was the one who sold out the Gourmet Research Society to Millennium.
"Then let's vote."
Haruna made her final declaration. "Izumi or Fuuka, or perhaps both. Raise your left hand for Izumi, right hand for Fuuka, and both hands for both. I'll count down from three."
Akari and Junko nodded. "Works for me!"
Izumi paled. "Hey! Wait! It's obviously Fuuka!"
"I already said I'm not in your club! Are you even listening?!"
But Haruna remained unmoved, continuing the silent countdown.
"Three, two, one..."
Clink!
As the chains of their handcuffs straightened, a total of twelve hands rose to varying heights. In an instant, the atmosphere grew heavy and painfully awkward.
Haruna was the first to lower her hands, completely unfazed. "I propose we change the voting method."
"I said wait!"
I watched with great interest. Whether this was Gehenna-style logic, a way to pass time, or both, it was entertaining either way.
Still… it was time to provide a clue to give this farce a proper turn.
The Millennium students hadn't confiscated my phone.
"Huh?" I feigned surprise and lifted the device for the girls' attention. "Anyway, look at this."
I turned the screen toward them. They leaned in curiously. It was the exhibition's promotional poster, prominently featuring the words Breton Lobster.
I then zoomed in to the small text on both sides.
Izumi instinctively read it aloud. "Regular lobster dyed to look identical to Breton lobster…?"
The four Gourmet Research Society members exchanged bewildered looks.
After a brief silence, Akari smiled sweetly at Haruna. "My, my. And who was it again who excitedly brought us this intel?"
Junko narrowed her eyes in a dangerous tone. "And who was it that said they could plan everything perfectly, and that all we had to do was follow instructions and enjoy the rare delicacy afterward?"
Izumi puffed out her cheeks. "And who casually put me on the suspicious list?!"
Thinking back to how confidently someone had praised their own reliability earlier, I struggled not to laugh.
…Heh. Sometimes accidents happen on the journey to gourmet perfection.
Cold sweat ran down Haruna's temple. She forced a smile, turning her eyes away while mumbling quietly.
"If an inexperienced chef mistakes salt for sugar, even the finest ingredients won't become a proper dish. And that's the chef's fault, not the ingredients'."
Fortunately for her, salvation arrived shortly after.
The transport vehicle stopped, and the rear door opened. A Millennium student stepped inside.
"We've reached the drop off point. Please disembark."
"Yes, let's get off!"
Haruna practically leaped to her feet with relief, stepping out with a spring in her stride. She didn't look at all like someone about to be handed over to the Prefect Team and brought back to school for confinement.