Crystal-Clear Ramen

And so, three nights later arrived.

During that time, I went to eat Ren’s veggie-potage-style ramen twice. However, right up until the end, he refused to tell me what kind of ramen he would serve tonight.

And then, at long last, the ramen he set before us was…

“Th-The color of the broth… it’s transparent!?”

Indeed. The broth in the ramen before me had the faintest tint, but it was almost completely clear.

The toppings consisted of the white part of the aromatics, pale and lean chashu, menma, what looked like citrus peel, and a boiled egg. The noodles were straight rather than curly, and thinner than those used in ordinary ramen.

The entire bowl was arranged in delicate, pale hues, beautiful yet somehow fleeting, as exquisite as a fairy’s wing.

But… it looked terribly light in flavor. After growing accustomed to rich ramen like the “veggie-potage style” and “Jiro style,” would this not lack impact for my palate?

Brad peered into the bowl and spoke.

“It looks just like the Golden Broth before the Blended Sauce is added! But Golden Broth by itself is far too mild to carry the noodles, so I would think it lacks enough strength…?”

I immediately agreed.

“Yes. I was thinking the same thing. Ramen broth only truly comes into its own when the richness and aroma of the Golden Broth are combined with the strong saltiness of the Blended Sauce.”

In front of our uneasy faces, Ren folded his arms, raised his chin, and spoke loudly.

“Well, yeah, it ‘looks that way’… This is shio ramen! Just like the name says, it’s ramen built around a salt-based seasoning sauce! Anyway, eat it while it’s hot!”

Prompted by Ren’s voice, we all picked up our disposable chopsticks, snapped them apart, and began eating.

It was probably just going to be light and bland anyway. What could possibly make this more interesting than veggie-potage style or Jiro style…?

I could hardly expect much from it.

I was disappointed. But after a single bite, my eyes flew open.

Th-This was astonishing… What an incredibly sharp, clean ramen!?

Judging by the color, I had assumed the flavor and body would be weak, but I could not have been more wrong!

Compared with veggie-potage style or Jiro style, it certainly had less immediate impact.

And yet, it was simple without being monotonous, dense without being heavy, and its refined, crystal-clear flavor possessed a deliciousness entirely unlike any ramen I had tasted before.

First came the vivid aroma of the sea. Then the savory richness of chicken gently enveloped my tongue. The thin noodles were smooth, supple, and pleasantly crisp to the bite, amplifying the delicate flavor of the broth twofold, even threefold.

The noodles were probably made thin so they would not overpower the delicate broth. Though the broth had not a trace of cloudiness and contained little fat, it still drew out the full depth of the chicken’s umami.

And this rich shellfish flavor… clams!

Ahh, what quietly profound deliciousness. The savory essence of the shellfish slowly soaked into my throat…

I bit into the chashu and was surprised yet again.

Th-This was not pork, but chicken—and breast meat at that! Moist and tender with a clean finish, it paired magnificently with the broth!

From time to time, a refreshing citrus fragrance drifted upward, while the aromatics were crisp and pleasantly pungent, keeping both nose and mouth from ever growing bored.

The boiled egg had been lightly seasoned with soy sauce, its yolk thick and rich, making it the only truly heavy element in the bowl. Along with the pleasantly crunchy menma, it provided an excellent accent.

This ramen was gentle yet profound, quiet yet expansive, powerful yet elegant.

Its refreshing taste, stripped of everything unnecessary, possessed a striking purity.

It was like a cloudless, brilliantly clear blue sky… or perhaps a vast ocean lying perfectly still…

Suddenly, I remembered something that had happened more than twenty years ago, when I traveled to the eastern lands to eat bamboo shoots.

One day, I was attacked by a tiger in a bamboo grove. I hurriedly began chanting a spell, but whether I could complete it in time was an even gamble. Then a lone man stepped in front of me.

He wore strange clothing with many fluttering layers, and at his waist hung a long, slender, single-edged sword. There was something strangely imposing about him.

Ignoring my panic, the man began walking forward with complete composure.

Then, at the very instant the tiger leaped at him… light flashed.

A moment later, an unbelievable sight spread before me. There, staring blankly from the ground, lay the tiger’s severed head, while its headless body continued running away!

The tiger did not even realize it had been cut and bared its fangs for a short while longer before eventually dying as though falling asleep. The man buried the tiger’s head in the bamboo grove, pressed his hands together, and muttered what sounded like some kind of spell.

The man’s name was Tenzan. He was a swordsman known as a “samurai,” who had crossed to our continent from an island nation in the Far East, even farther east than the eastern lands, while pursuing the “One-Winged Witch,” the enemy who had slain his lord.

I thanked him for saving me, traveled alongside him for a while, and when we eventually parted, I promised that if we ever met again, I would without fail lend him my strength.

“Meikyō Shisui”… It was a state of enlightenment he had taught me.

It meant sharpening one’s mind until it remained as calm as the surface of still water reflecting a mirror, then wielding the sword without disturbance no matter how desperate the situation.

Strangely enough, I almost felt that this ramen contained the same “spirit” as the razor-sharp clarity of a Meikyō Shisui sword strike…