My wife name is Erina Nakiri

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The next morning, at the preliminary round of Midnight Chef, the temporary venue was meticulously prepared. Several stations were set up, each with a chef's table and a perfectly intact porcupinefish.

The three judges were seated at their specially arranged seats. The show's production team had put thought into it: Mana Nakiri, Renz's mother-in-law, occupied the central, main seat.

In terms of influence in the modern culinary world, reputation among judges, background, and involvement with competitions and culinary associations, Mana Nakiri was unparalleled. No one could truly replace her position, making her central seat impeccable.

Flanking her were two other highly respected figures in Japanese cuisine. While their status might be slightly below Mana Nakiri's, inviting someone of equal standing from China or the West would have introduced communication barriers, which could feel out of place for a Japanese show.

To Mana Nakiri's left sat Yoshio Ono, the current head of the Ono family, who inherited the title of "God of Sushi" from his predecessor. At 57 years old, he was invited to participate in this program.

The other judge was Tsuru Kinmoto, the seventh-generation heir of the century-old Nodaiwa restaurant, specializing in eel dishes and holding significant culinary standing in Japan.

Both of these judges specialized in a single type of cuisine, as few families like the Nakiris researched all types of cuisine. Only a few well-established, recognizable old establishments in Japan could command such respect from the audience.

The three judges surveyed the cooking arena, their presence commanding. The atmosphere of the preliminary round grew tense as contestants arrived one by one. Handling the porcupinefish was truly a rookie killer. Most ordinary chefs didn't touch it.

Even those with five or six years of head chef experience rarely encountered it. Only head chefs who frequently dealt with seafood would study it.

In an island nation like Japan, many seafood chefs still found it troublesome to handle, especially with a time limit. This preliminary round was expected to weed out many, exposing those who were merely faking it.

The host began by introducing the judges and explaining the rules of the first preliminary round. Renz had already read these on the rule card, so he knew the procedure.

When the host announced the start of the competition, all chefs were to begin processing and cutting the porcupinefish.

To the far left of the three judges, a giant prop clock would count down the sixty-second time limit. When time was up, all chefs had to stop working. Their porcupinefish's processing stage would determine who advanced and who left the stage.

"Brother Renz!"

Renz looked towards the voice. The person at the adjacent table was Datu, the Y-tube food content creator he'd briefly met the day before. "Need a white flag? I've got one ready." Datu pulled out a French flag from his bag. Can't do anything else, but first in creating a scene? Disgracing France publicly? You're going to get a complaint letter from the French.

"You're giving up?" Renz asked in surprise. Pulling out a French flag, Renz understood what the other person was doing—surrendering. However, the porcupinefish was indeed a fish that ordinary people found difficult to handle, so surrendering was quite normal. It made sense. Dissecting a porcupinefish was beyond the scope of a typical food content creator's abilities.

To put it bluntly, handling a porcupinefish was like butchering a pufferfish, which required specific certification in Asia. Even legitimate pufferfish restaurants had emergency medical personnel on standby.

Aside from the "its breasts" (testicles of the pufferfish), almost all parts of a pufferfish are toxic. If you don't know how to prepare it properly and mishandle it, leading to poisoning, a delayed rescue could send someone to the morgue in as little as ten minutes.

Considering Paris fell before the French surrendered, wasn't this more serious than the fall of Paris? Surrendering beforehand was a smart move. Besides, Datu didn't even have a pufferfish processing license. Butchering a pufferfish on a show? Wouldn't that be broadcasting a crime? Under broad daylight, with so many people watching, if he actually processed the pufferfish, he'd be welcomed back to China with the "three-piece set": a gray hood, yellow vest, and white handcuffs. Datu was already making excuses for his failure.

He was overthinking it completely. The production team had already arranged for emergency personnel, and the show had a contingency plan with prior guarantees.

Thinking this, Datu looked at the unperturbed Renz and asked, "Aren't you giving up?" Datu was surprised by Renz's surprise. He had watched Renz's cooking videos and felt that Renz was skilled at conventional, home-style cooking. A porcupinefish should be an out-of-scope subject, right?

"I can handle it," Renz said, a statement that took Datu by surprise. I thought we were all failing students, but you're a straight-A scholar?

While the two were still talking, a booming announcement signaled the official start of the preliminary round. The moment the clock next to the judges began to move, Renz's smile vanished, and he entered his most serious mode, no longer casually chatting with Datu beside him.

Beheading. He first handled the porcupinefish's head. Its eyes were highly poisonous; if accidentally consumed, they could cause hallucinations. Renz was well aware of the correct sequence. He gently pressed the handle of a sharp pair of scissors with his hand, fanning out a keen edge.

With a rotary scoop-out motion, he cleanly removed the porcupinefish's eyes, placing them on a separate plate on the table. The entire process of handling also required careful segregation of edible and inedible parts.

Next, Renz picked up a small knife. It flashed a faint blue light in the sunlight. With four precise cuts, he made a cross-shaped incision on the porcupinefish's forehead, like a "cross slash."

He carefully dug inward with the small knife, mindful of the pressure. He couldn't apply too much force; if the fish's gallbladder ruptured, its fluid would contaminate the meat, making it inedible.

"Table 11 eliminated!"

Referees patrolled the aisles. Any mistakes during the process, such as damaging the porcupinefish's flesh, resulted in immediate elimination. Those who encountered the task and simply gave up were also instantly disqualified.

Renz's movements were slow, but his knife was incredibly steady, and his thinking was clear, like a surgeon on an operating table, knowing the optimal path.

The thorny skin of the porcupinefish was meticulously removed by Renz, as if he had forcibly stripped it of its outer garment, and placed intact on the inedible plate.

Renz then proceeded to cut off the fish meat from the outside, piece by piece. He didn't rush to handle the internal organs; prioritizing the external meat was the most logical approach. If he were to rush the internal organs and accidentally puncture the gallbladder, most of the fish meat would be contaminated. Even if some parts weren't poisoned, would he dare to cut them, and would others dare to eat them?

Renz's knife work exuded "steadiness," and it was also the most correct choice, ensuring the maximization of usable fish meat. Even if a mistake occurred, a portion of the fish meat would have already been successfully separated. This was a very experienced and seasoned handling technique.

Beside him, Datu watched, completely captivated. Renz's fluid cutting made it almost certain that his fundamentals were solid, and not just solid, but terrifyingly so.

When the sixty seconds ended, Renz's chef's knife was already neatly inserted back into its designated slot in the utensil holder. All the parts of the porcupinefish were clearly laid out on the table: the edible fish meat, the separated testicles, the majority of the inedible internal organs, the fish eyes, and the thick, spiny outer shell.

Sixty seconds—the time was simply too short. Renz had maintained intense focus for the entire minute. The effort expended in that minute was the most tiring part of his day. If he were at the peak of his knife skills, thirty seconds would have been enough to handle it.

Now, even completing it in sixty seconds was a struggle, requiring his full concentration. Renz realized that his knife skills were still a weakness, and currently, his biggest one. While his knife skills for noodle dishes had improved, other areas of knife work still needed to be retrained and practiced diligently.

"No way, Brother Renz, did you cheat?" Datu couldn't help but blurt out, unable to contain himself. Is he really an all-around powerhouse?! He had just secretly glanced at the processing method at another table nearby.

Having seen Renz's movements and cutting technique, Datu had thought that handling a porcupinefish was something anyone could do. Renz's cutting was fast and precise, and crucially, it looked incredibly refined.

However, the processing at the other table was utterly disastrous. The comparison was like night and day. How could two people participating in the same competition have such a vast difference in skill?

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