Chapter 582: Between Envy and Disappointment (6)
Chapter 582: Between Envy and Disappointment (6)
The participants weren’t actually that bad. Normally, they would have admired Minjoon’s noble pride, but these days, they had no choice but to blame him.
Man, this is tough.
Minjoon was usually only tired after working hard, but today it felt like his soul was suffering from muscle pain. Until finishing his late dinner at 9 p.m., he kept pressing them for new recipe ideas. Not just Minjoon—neither Kaya nor Joseph would back down in this battle where their pride was on the line. But maybe pride wasn’t the only factor. Gwen wasn’t so sure.
“We don’t know how many from each team will be eliminated. But it’s the head chef’s decision,” Minjoon reminded them, recalling the competition rules. “That said, I hope I won’t be sending any of you home.”
He did his best to make them believe in that hope as they cooked.
In truth, he shouldn’t care so much. Seeing a team member eliminated would break his heart, but it had little bearing on his own honour. Still, he wanted to protect them, even knowing elimination was inevitable. Was it just simple hospitality? If she won, could Gwen be as gracious as Minjoon?
Hospitality was foreign to Gwen. She’d never been in a position to give or receive it; it felt like a dream to be treated kindly by Minjoon. It wasn’t about good or bad—it simply didn’t feel real. She felt as though she were dreaming.
After dinner, Gwen wandered in the garden for a while. Ken and Vlad had insisted they needed to work harder, so they stayed in the kitchen trying to develop better recipes. Of course, it was easy to guess their true motivation: to show Minjoon how hard they were working.
What does that even mean?
Gwen instinctively doubted that just sitting in the kitchen would bring sudden inspiration or skills. And Minjoon didn’t seem to appreciate such meaningless efforts.
I wonder if he can see what we’re really thinking at a glance.
She pictured Minjoon’s face. On TV, he looked like a straightforward, good chef, but here he was different. His easy smile didn’t mean acceptance and understanding. He was far more stubborn, uncompromising—especially with cooking.
He was as soft as a fluffy blanket with Kaya, but a hard, enormous mountain when dealing with them.
“She must be so happy with him!” Gwen sighed.
She felt that if someone like Minjoon stood by her, cheering her on, she could overcome any hardship. She thought she almost wet herself as usual.
She sat down on a bench. Night had fallen. The street lamps flickered as the tree branches swayed, and insects buzzed quietly. Lowering her gaze—her ankle itched—but her clean legs showed nothing.
For a moment, she thought she heard music somewhere—hip-hop beats with an EDM flair pulsing in her ears. It was just an auditory hallucination, not real. The countless songs she’d heard, long ago drunk on drugs, were deeply embedded in her mind.
She frowned, troubled, clutching her arms tightly. It felt like she was losing her senses. The sound that once brought incomparable pleasure now pounded like a referee’s drum in her ears.
Suddenly scared, she scratched her back with trembling hands. For a brief moment, a euphoric sensation washed over her—but it soon turned to disgust as something moved through her veins.
Hugo appeared after she vomited something white. Embarrassed, he approached, puzzled.
“Are you okay? Can I pat your back?”
She waved him off and vomited again, though nothing came this time. Exhausted, Hugo stayed by her side, unable to leave her.
She sat back down, weary. He asked gently, “Want some water?”
“You have some?”
“I was jogging and sipped some.”
“That’s fine.”
He handed her the water, which she gulped gratefully before lowering her head and murmuring, “Thanks.”
“Sick?”
“No. Just tired.”
She clearly didn’t want to talk further, so he didn’t press.
Instead, he sat quietly beside her. She was clearly unwell, and even if they weren’t close, he couldn’t just leave her alone.
“How’s your team?”
“Not good. They’re in the worst shape. Yours?”
“I think everyone’s struggling,” Hugo said with a bitter smile.
She spoke softly.
“I intend to win this competition.”
He studied her for a beat. In the past, he would have said the same—to win a war of nerves against others.
No matter his confidence and determination, not backed by real skill, it was a hollow bluff.
“You were in the same class as Minjoon, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Must be complicated.”
Gwen hadn’t meant to stir his emotions, but he nodded, smiling faintly. “Yeah, mixed feelings. At least Minjoon and Kaya don’t have to deal with the trouble I do.”
“What made you decide to return?”
“I want to show them something.”
“Show them what?”
“That I worked as hard as they did,” he muttered. “That I deserve the reward for my effort.”
Contrary to common belief, the three judges had their own concerns. Leading their teams as head chefs was more challenging than it looked—especially for Minjoon. Having worked with the Rose Island chefs until now, he felt a stark gap in skill when faced with ordinary competitors here.
“I wish I could guide them from start to finish.”
“Same here,” Kaya sighed in agreement.
As head chefs, the judges couldn’t overstep boundaries. They could recommend recipes, but not create them for their teams. Their role was to advise and guide the kitchen to some extent.
That was natural. The competition aimed to test the participants’ skills, not the judges’. Though they knew a little intervention could drastically improve dishes, they couldn’t do it. That sense of helplessness frustrated them.
“Is Michael on your team?” Minjoon asked.
Michael was Merlyn’s first choice. Her judgement was reasonable, as Michael stood out in many ways during the competition. Though more suited as a leader, he’d perform well as a team member.
“Don’t mention him! He’s driving me nuts!”
“Why?”
“You know his problem, right? He’s not here to win but to make memories. He talked endlessly about silly recipes, so…”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, his dishes are passable—good enough to eat but nothing more. He cooks without decorum, and people find his food hard to understand.”
Kaya’s harsh critique confirmed Michael was a difficult team member. Perhaps that’s why he opened his own restaurant rather than working at one after Grand Chef.