Chapter 555: Cogwheels (2)
Chapter 555: Cogwheels (2)
Minjoon announced, “Before your mission begins, you’ll have ten minutes to catch the live mackerel from the tank. Make sure to take them out within that time.”
At once, the contestants swarmed the kitchen, holding out landing nets in a competitive scramble. Kaya giggled at their funny but endearing attempts. She turned and smiled at Minjoon.
“Hey, you’ve got a lot of gravitas today. Are you nervous?”
He wasn’t there to put on airs, and she knew that. He calmly shook his head. “I just don’t want to seem shallow to them.”
“Oh, really?”
She gave him a suspicious look but didn’t press further.
He watched the participants silently. Some were relaxed; others paced nervously, clearly uneasy about handling the flapping fish.
“Well, I think I can already size them up.”
“You bet.”
From experience, he could easily gauge their competence by their small actions here—any judge probably could.
Come to think of it, this is the first time I’m formally evaluating amateur chefs as a judge.
Previously, he had evaluated chefs at the demi-chef level, so these contestants seemed less experienced.
Minjoon’s eyes settled on Gwen. She didn’t seem very experienced with fish, but she stared fiercely at the mackerel, determined not to falter. No doubt she’d kill it as soon as the bell rang.
I wonder what kind of dish she’ll make with mackerel.
He couldn’t recall. He had seen a cooking show with her long ago but hadn’t paid attention to her dishes then. She hadn’t seemed particularly talented at the time. Her dishes looked good, but none had impressed him deeply.
“Start cooking!” Kaya shouted.
Though she tried to seem calm, she was excited—finally announcing orders as a judge rather than a participant.
The contestants began trimming, decapitating, and scoring their mackerel.
Some removed the intestines through the belly; others, like Gwen, cut through the back. After gutting and scaling, Gwen started preparing a sauce.
Minjoon approached slowly. “What are you making?”
“Ah... pardon? Oh, you mean now?”
“Yes, what are you making now?”
“Sauce.”
“For what?”
“To marinate the mackerel,” she replied uncertainly, glancing at his expression nervously.
Noticing this, Minjoon looked at the ingredients: pineapple, soy sauce, vinegar, and an A1 sauce. Seeing his interest, she hurriedly said, “I’m using just a little A1 sauce for its unique tangy flavour.”
“I look forward to it,” he said, then moved on.
Next, he checked on Hugo. With professional chef experience, Hugo’s overall stats were high.
He’s reached cooking level 7.
Compared to Minjoon or Kaya, his growth was slower—but actually, the two had grown unusually fast.
To Minjoon’s surprise, Peter had also reached cooking level 7. Though he hid his feelings, Minjoon largely ignored Peter. He didn’t expect remarkable dishes from Peter.
“Oh, it’s nice to see you two cooking side by side,” Minjoon smiled.
He wasn’t sure if the competition’s coordinator assigned tables deliberately, but Peter and Hugo were seated next to each other.
Hugo gave a bitter smile and nodded. “I’ve been preparing for this competition earnestly.”
“Confident today?”
“I made it through Season 3, so I think I’ll manage.”
“Peter, how about you?”
Minjoon studied him coolly but felt uneasy. Even if Peter was at fault initially, Minjoon bore some responsibility for Peter’s bad reputation, as his influence contributed to Peter’s international slander.
Had Peter matured? They only briefly interacted during preliminaries.
Peter answered quietly, “I’m here to win.”
“Good luck!”
“No, don’t cheer for me.”
Minjoon frowned. “Why not?”
Peter replied firmly, “I want to win against you, not the contest.”
“Me? Why?”
“I’ve lived like an asshole these past two years. During that time, I watched how you lived. At first, I hated you. Honestly, I envied you.”
“Is that why you want to beat me?”
Peter nodded.
Minjoon burst out laughing. “I get it. A soccer player wants to play with Lionel Messi; a musician wants to see Bruno Mars.”
He shrugged. “When it comes to cooking, you want to be me.”
Peter instantly went silent, glancing around. Some kitchen staff and participants giggled. Clearly, Peter was different now.
Hey, you’re not the only one who’s changed!
“Really? Wait—I’ll catch up to you,” Peter said calmly.
He knew people would scorn his words. Peter had long been seen as a loser and a fool. Changing that perception wouldn’t be easy.
Initially, Peter rebelled, picking fights and demanding explanations for why he was considered a loser. He argued and even cried, but nobody cared. His pleas didn’t convince; he remained the same old Peter.
As always, truth was foggier than fiction.
People isolated him. No one listened. It didn’t matter what Peter thought or lived for. Everyone believed the fake image reflected in media and social networks.
He resented Minjoon, the Grand Chef, and himself for the whole situation.
Eventually, people accepted the social media portrayal: he was a loser and an asshole. In a movie, his role would be a fool who dies brutally while challenging the hero.
But Peter didn’t die. Or rather, he might have died inside. Though breathing, he was not truly alive. Every time he walked the street, passersby seemed to mock him.
He’d tied a belt to a doorknob to kill himself more than once. He’d held his breath, wondering if he could die that way. But he didn’t.
His extreme actions were worse than death. In a world full of hate, Peter lacked the courage to choose death. As a villain, he lived as if dead, burdened by scorn and hatred.
Even few acquaintances left him. He had hardly any friends. His family scolded him for disgracing them rather than offering support.
He was utterly alone, deserted.
How long had he existed so dejected? With no luck or change, his heart filled with bitterness.
He wanted to argue why they defined him as a loser and cast him out. He fiercely begged to live on.
Sadness, happiness, pain, and dreams—half-formed, romantic notions—faded from Peter’s mind. He no longer saw success as beautiful, knowing they would see his success as ugly.