Chapter 585: Envy and Disappointment (9)
Chapter 585: Envy and Disappointment (9)
What truly mattered was whether they could feel the difference. Knowing how to press the keys of a piano is one thing; knowing how to play it is another. Minjoon demonstrated what a true professional performance was to those who thought banging on piano keys equated to music. In other words, he taught them how to be chefs, not mere tools.
Perhaps this was the defining moment recognising his kitchen leadership—because there was only so much one person could do alone. A ship’s captain who orders the crew to follow without explanation is a third-rate leader. Minjoon believed his teammates deserved better than being third-rate chefs.
Lost in thought, he watched as Peter cooked the next appetizer: salmon and sweet potato re-grilled in bacon fat, rolled with bacon, then topped with a sauce simmered carefully with masala, chunjang (thick black soybean paste), and teriyaki sauce.
It was still simple, but it perfectly showcased their teamwork.
Everyone noticed Minjoon’s team’s morale was high. Kaya enjoyed the food but felt nervous deep down. No wonder—she wondered if she could lead her own team as well.
When did he grow so much as to embrace them so easily?
She always thought he was in her arms, but now he was in theirs. Even though she shared nights with him, she hadn’t realised how generous he was to others.
Clenching her fists, she felt a strange loss. Did she feel she was losing him? Or was it that she thought she held him, but in truth, he held her?
She looked at him. He raised his head slightly—their eyes met, and he smiled.
She felt more upset—his smile was too pretty.
Minjoon’s direction was perfect.
To be accurate, the team was perfect. Any flaws others might have had remained hidden until the very end of the full course.
Who should get credit? Minjoon for raising their level? Or themselves for holding together?
They couldn’t say. Others, like Kaya or Joseph, paid little attention to Minjoon’s team—too focused on their own potential mistakes.
Joseph’s team impressed by finishing without apparent fault, which only heightened collective nerves. Even compared to Minjoon’s team, Joseph’s had no significant shortcomings. Perhaps Hugo helped Joseph lead smoothly, acting almost like a sous chef.
No one on Joseph’s team stood out individually, but that made them the strongest overall.
All eyes then turned to Kaya’s team.
“Michael, no playing jokes this time,” Kaya warned sharply.
When practising, Michael had disrupted the team’s flow several times for fun, so he scratched his head awkwardly.
He viewed the competition differently: seeking simple joy, while others sought reassurance that they weren’t failing.
Someone firmly grounded from the start had a very different mindset than those shaking beneath.
“Everyone, let’s cheer! Let’s win!”
Merlyn, the youngest, clenched her fists, shouting encouragement. Others responded with dry smiles. Kaya’s team had witnessed other teams’ impressive cohesion, which spurred both motivation and self-reflection.
Why couldn’t they cooperate like others?
Ironically, Kaya felt most disappointed. Most team members’ cooking skills equalled hers, but their lack of confidence stemmed from her failing to be the pillar they could depend on.
Who the hell is a Grand Chef judge? Who the hell is a legendary genius?
She muttered bitterly.
No matter her skills, she was an incompetent mother unable to feed her team properly.
Joseph and Minjoon hadn’t listed any team members for elimination—meaning none were deemed weak enough.
Could Kaya do the same? Could she protect them?
Her problem unresolved, the competition still awaited. Soon, Kaya’s team stepped into the kitchen, knives and pans in hand. Their battle with other teams had begun.
It was strangely humorous. Kaya had nothing to lose if her team failed, yet she burned brightest with passion. She moved incessantly between members, checking they began without delay.
Fortunately, her instructions on cooking order were well-received. Familiar with the format as a head chef, she knew the protocols—though this time, differences made all the difference.
While leading, she realised her team lagged behind others.
They worked slower than expected.
Before long, a cream sauce burnt.
She had to delay serving dishes to judges. Something was wrong, clearly.
Who was to blame among the five members?
Her thoughts first blamed herself—for not leading perfectly.
Meanwhile, the uncoordinated gears of teamwork screeched and stalled.
Despair crept in, but Minjoon watched silently, reading her distress and thoughts. He knew her stress deeply.
Finally, Kaya’s course ended. It wasn’t poor—everyone had done their best.
Soon after, Kaya summoned two names.
“Josh and Merlyn…”
Sweat on their faces, they sighed.
Merlyn bowed sadly.
Kaya bit her lips. She had failed to protect her team’s happiness.
Though not her fault, responsibility weighed on her.
“Josh, you were too slow deciding. When asked to do one task, you didn’t try anything else. When ordered to multitask, you couldn’t manage. Your dull senses broke our teamwork’s flow. Merlyn…”
She hesitated.
Throughout the mission, Merlyn often made her smile. Her childish innocence reminded Kaya of the purity Kaya herself had lost. But as an adult, Kaya hadn’t held that child’s hand till the end.
“Merlyn, you worked hard. But not perfectly. Your cutting worsened the faster you went, and slowed when careful. Your hands are slow, but that’s inevitable—you lack experience.”
What would Minjoon say? She wondered, trapped in useless speculation. Surely Minjoon or Joseph had made up perfectly by showing kitchen leadership.
Kaya regretted her time as Irregular Lab’s head chef. Lost in dreams of romance and fun, she ignored the basics—kitchen leadership. Now she blamed herself.
Merlyn neither complained nor denied reality.
She said, “I think this competition will be a good memory for me. Thank you, Kaya.”
Merlyn recalled her initial words to Kaya: she wanted to be like her. Despite youth, she dreamed of success through overcoming flaws.
Merlyn longed to succeed. She hadn’t come to make memories—even if that’s what it had become.
Kaya smiled gently.
“Good job.”
She wondered if she was maturing.
But at the same time, she thought an incompetent adult was truly ugly.