Totsuki was thrown into complete chaos by Azami Nakiri's series of new policies.
For the instructors, things weren't easy either. They had to cooperate with Azami and put on an act. Of course, even if it was just acting, the way Azami was pushing things through so recklessly still made them deeply unhappy.
As a result, part of their anger was exaggerated for show—but another part of it was very real.
The students, however, had no such luxury.
Especially the captains of the various research societies. None of them wanted to watch their societies be destroyed overnight.
But with the school's overall policy direction already shifting, they were left with only two choices.
One was to compromise. That way, even if their research society disappeared, at least they could stay enrolled at Totsuki without further trouble.
The other was to resist. The result of that path was obvious—expulsion, and the research society being wiped out anyway.
No matter how you looked at it, the first option seemed far safer.
"Kael, don't you feel even a little sense of urgency? My Elite Ten seat has already been revoked. Are we really just going to watch the Chinese Cuisine Research Society disappear like this?"
Kael had been called over by Kuga Terunori. The Chinese Cuisine Research Society was one of the societies scheduled to be abolished.
Regardless of its size or how many members it had, once Azami Nakiri made a declaration, no research society could survive it.
At least, Kuga himself had no way out. That was why he could only turn to Kael for help.
Kael might not be part of the Elite Ten, but he was a genuine Nine-Star Chef. On top of that, he had already confronted Azami head-on before. Maybe—just maybe—he really had a way to save the society.
"Can you stop panicking for once?" Hojo Miyoko said, rolling her eyes at Kuga.
"You know what kind of person the captain is. Look at him—this calm. Doesn't that mean he's already thought of a solution?"
"Huh? Really?" Kuga froze for a moment before looking at Kael. "You've already got an idea?"
"More or less," Kael replied.
"The moment Azami announced those new policies, I thought of something. I talked it over with the others at Polar Star Dormitory, and everyone agreed. Of course, we still need to discuss it with everyone else."
"Kuga-senpai, even if you're no longer part of the Elite Ten, gathering all the research societies shouldn't be too hard for you, right?"
"Gather all the research societies?" Kuga was stunned. "That'd be like gathering almost the entire student body of Totsuki!"
"Sorry, that's on me," Kael said, correcting himself. "I meant the managers and captains of the research societies."
"That's not a problem," Kuga nodded.
"But what—you're planning to get everyone to resist together? I've thought about that before, but the chances of success are way too low."
"That's not what I mean," Kael said, shaking his head. "I'm not asking them to resist. I'm suggesting another way to preserve the research societies."
He then explained to Kuga and the others exactly what he had discussed back at Polar Star Dormitory.
"This model… actually sounds feasible," Kuga said after hearing it.
"On one hand, we can keep the research societies alive. On the other, it'll push members to improve their cooking even more. And it'll help filter out the people who don't belong."
As for making money? For Totsuki students, earning some cash was hardly a challenge.
"I think it's great," Hojo Miyoko added, clearly pleased. "As expected of the captain. To come up with something like this… At least this way, we won't have to look at that guy's face anymore."
She had always been the type who couldn't tolerate sand in her eyes. Watching someone like Azami Nakiri become the director had disgusted her to no end.
Kael's plan neatly sidestepped Azami entirely. Even if it meant less time spent in the research society than before, being able to preserve it at all was already a win.
"Then I'll handle contacting everyone else," Kuga said. "Tomorrow's Saturday, so no one should be busy. Let's meet here at nine in the morning. I'll gather everyone."
With that, Kuga left immediately.
Totsuki had no shortage of research societies—dozens of them, large and small.
Even though Kuga was no longer part of the Elite Ten, his reputation still carried weight. And this meeting was being convened in Kael's name, with the explicit purpose of saving the research societies.
There was no way the leaders could sit still after hearing that.
The next morning, despite the meeting being scheduled for nine, people started arriving before seven.
The reason was simple—research societies were extremely important to them.
Not just because they brought tangible benefits, but because they were legacies passed down by seniors generation after generation. No one wanted to be the one under whose watch a society vanished.
By nine o'clock, over a hundred people had gathered at the Chinese Cuisine Research Society. There wasn't a conference table big enough, so everyone simply found a place to sit.
When Kael arrived, everyone stood up at once.
It wasn't something Kael had asked for—it just happened naturally. After all, Kael was now a Nine-Star Chef. He was already a major figure in the culinary world, while they were still just students. The gap between them was enormous.
Right now, while still at Totsuki, they could interact with him at least a little. Once they graduated, most of them would never cross paths with Kael again.
"Everyone, relax," Kael said. "I called you here for one reason only—to preserve the research societies. I'll explain my idea. If you have suggestions, raise your hand. Don't all talk at once. With this many people, no one would hear anything."
The crowd immediately nodded.
Kael then explained his plan once more. Before he even finished, murmurs spread through the room as students discussed its feasibility with the people next to them.
"Since Azami Nakiri has formed a Central Faction," Kael said, "then we'll form a Research Society Alliance. The societies can exchange knowledge and help each other. Of course, this help won't be free."
He planned to create a formal alliance. While each society had its own research focus, they were all chefs at the end of the day. Many things could be shared. Mutual assistance and exchange would benefit everyone—but it couldn't be unconditional.
There had to be a cost, large or small, to keep the alliance healthy and sustainable.
"I agree. This is already the best option we have," someone said, raising their hand.
Once the first society voiced its support, others followed one after another.
Kael observed everyone carefully. Most societies clearly supported the idea wholeheartedly. A small number, however, were reluctant.
They agreed only because everyone else had. Refusing would make them stand out.
That was often how it went. Even if people had different opinions, they would still follow the crowd to avoid becoming outcasts.
Kael understood these people perfectly. To them, a research society wasn't a place for mutual improvement—it was a tool for profit.
They joined to extract resources from Totsuki and had climbed to leadership positions for exactly that reason.
Kael's proposal required them to invest their own money. They were here to make money, not spend it.
But Kael had also made it clear that there would be future profits. And since everyone else had agreed, they followed along. At least within this alliance, there might still be something to gain.
Azami Nakiri's Central Faction, on the other hand, offered them nothing at all. All the benefits were monopolized by the Elite Ten and their direct subordinates.
"Since everyone agrees," Kael said, "I hereby announce the official establishment of the Research Society Alliance.
"Next, please return to your respective societies and explain this decision to your members.
"Those who are willing to join can stay. Those who aren't—we won't force them.
"You have three days. After that, each research society will send one representative to contribute startup funds. We'll earn our first pot of money, then use it to secure a proper venue.
"Don't worry about operations. During the initial stage, I'll help as well."
If he was going to block Azami Nakiri's plans, Kael was naturally going to put in some effort.
He wouldn't directly hand out secret recipes. Instead, each society would prepare the dishes they planned to sell, and Kael would offer suggestions to refine them. They needed to become self-sufficient.
If Kael just handed them a miracle formula, it would be convenient—but what about the future? Since he had proposed this alliance, he intended to do it properly.
After the meeting, everyone dispersed and returned to their own societies to explain the new arrangements.
Many members had joined research societies to improve their cooking in the first place. Although this approach required an upfront contribution, it would push their skills even further. Naturally, they were more than willing to support it.
Besides, Totsuki had no shortage of rich heirs and heiresses. Most of them didn't care about a bit of startup capital.
Of course, a minority disagreed.
Some feared that this would anger Azami Nakiri and invite retaliation.
Others had joined purely for profit, and now they were being asked to pay money instead. That was unacceptable to them.
After a round of filtering, while not everyone left behind was fiercely ambitious, at least ninety-nine percent of them were.
Such a massive movement couldn't possibly escape the notice of Totsuki's upper management. Thousands of students were involved—missing it would have required them to be blind and deaf.
"As expected of someone who reached Nine-Star level at such a young age," one instructor said.
"Whether it's cooking or leadership, he's top-tier. To think of something like this—and mobilize most of the school's students."
The instructors had initially worried that going along with Azami's act might harm the students. Now, those concerns were gone. Kael had already led them out from under Azami's influence and onto a better path.
Soon after, the instructors received applications from the students.
The request was simple: they wanted teachers to periodically guide the Research Society Alliance. In return, once the societies became profitable, they would offer compensation.
The money itself meant little to the instructors—but the gesture mattered. After all, they would be giving up their personal time.
Most instructors happily agreed. Seeing students stand on their own was the greatest reward for a teacher.
Even Roland Chapelle, who was known for his stern demeanor, approved the request without hesitation—and smiled broadly while doing so.
Where there was joy, there was also frustration.
The frustrated ones were Azami Nakiri and the Elite Ten.
Azami was grinding his teeth in fury. His original plan had been to abolish all the research societies, then have the Elite Ten absorb all the elite students into his Central Faction.
Instead, those elites had been scooped up by Kael's Research Society Alliance.
The Central Faction had barely been established, yet