Chương 122: The Arena Module Comes Fully Online

Marcella and Vincent said nothing more. After a parting line — "We look forward to your performance at the Selection" — they turned and left. Only Chris remained in the kitchen. He stood where he was, gripping the thin envelope, his palm already damp with sweat. Everything that had just happened had come so fast he could barely process it. Global Culinary Champion League, Paris, eight candidates, three slots… the words circled endlessly in his mind, each one a summit he'd never imagined.

He went back to the locker room, changed out of his sweat-soaked whites, then walked out of the restaurant alone. New York's midnight wind hit his face, and it cleared his tangled thoughts a little. He didn't head straight home; he found a bench by the street, sat, and — by the dim yellow of a streetlight — carefully opened the envelope. Inside was only a single folded card, designed like a formal invitation.

In plain English and French, it gave the Selection's details: Time: the first Monday two months from now, three days. Place: New York, a private culinary academy on the Hudson, fully closed to outsiders. Rules overview: three comprehensive assessments, designed to evaluate a candidate's technique, creativity, and psychological resilience under pressure. There was nothing more detailed. Chris turned the card over and over, reading it several times, then let out a long breath. Pressure. Enormous pressure.

But within that pressure, an excitement he couldn't hold down. This was the stage he wanted. Not a reality show made to please an audience, but pure culinary competition, judged by the best in the field. He put the invitation away and rose to head home. Right then, the long-absent system chime — grown deeper and steadier now — sounded in his mind. [Key event detected: "Global Culinary Champion League Qualifier"…] [Unlock conditions for system module "Arena" satisfied.] [Activating "Arena" module… activation complete.] Chris's steps halted. He focused at once, his consciousness sinking into the system space. On the golden parchment-scroll interface, a whole new section was slowly unfolding. It was a three-dimensional projection like a globe, marked with different countries and regions. The location of Paris, France, shone with the most dazzling gold light, labeled "Global Culinary Champion League Final." And in the North American region, New York glowed with a red point, labeled "US Regional Selection."

Chris touched the red point with his mind, and more information came flooding out. Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators! [Task name: Battle of the American Iron Chefs] [Task tier: A+] [Objective: Pass the US Regional Selection and win one of the three competitor slots to Paris.] [Details: Eight candidates will undergo three days of comprehensive evaluation in a closed New York kitchen.] [Day One: Classic Reproduction.] [Day Two: Extreme Creativity.] [Day Three: Pressure Service.] [Judges: Marcella Duval (League North America director), Javier Castillo (retired champion, 4th League), an anonymous Michelin Guide inspector (identity unknown).] The system's information was far more detailed than the invitation. Chris studied the three days of assessment carefully, and got a rough sense of it.

Classic Reproduction tested fundamentals and understanding of tradition; Extreme Creativity tested knowledge and quick thinking on the fly; Pressure Service tested all-around ability and teamwork. The three of them covered nearly every core quality a professional chef needed.

"Eight candidates…" Chris murmured to himself. He knew not one of the chosen would be weak. What he'd be facing were the most elite young chefs in all of America. His gaze swept the Arena interface, searching for information on the other candidates. Soon, on the US map, he saw eight human-shaped points of light at different brightnesses — one of them representing himself. He tried to view the other seven's profiles, but the system prompted: [Insufficient access. Unlock on-site at the competition.] Yet just as he was about to exit, one of the points suddenly flickered, giving off a faint pulse of signal. This signal… so familiar. Chris's heart lurched. He focused at once and threw everything into probing the signal's source. [Potential competitor signal detected… matching database… match found.] The next second, beside that flickering point, a name slowly surfaced. [Candidate: Ethan Cole] [Restaurant: Aethel, Los Angeles] [Recommended by: the California restaurant association] Ethan!

Chris's pupils contracted in an instant. He'd been selected too. The name struck through Chris's calm like a bolt of lightning. The rival who had fought him to the last moment on the Burning Kitchen finale stage; the genius who had once been like an iceberg — cool, precise, formidable. Since the finale ended, Chris hadn't heard a thing about him. He'd only gathered, in fragments from his agent Dave, that Ethan had taken an executive chef post at a new high-end restaurant in Los Angeles and won glowing reviews.

Chris had assumed their roads would split there. He'd chosen to enter a top kitchen and start from the bottom, while Ethan had gone straight to the top, becoming a Chef who ran the show. He'd figured the next time he heard Ethan's name would be years later, on the cover of some food magazine. He'd never imagined they'd meet again like this — this soon. And on a stage this much higher, this much crueler.

On the system interface, beside Ethan Cole's name, there was a small score bar showing his Career Record Points — and that bar was climbing at an astonishing rate. Clearly, his months in Los Angeles hadn't been idle. Chris drew a deep breath and forced himself calm. Maybe this was a good thing. His duel with Ethan, at the end of Burning Kitchen, hadn't actually been clean. He'd won — but won a little by luck, a little by a blur.

He'd won on the story and feeling of the Potato Trilogy, not on beating Ethan in pure technique. He knew in his heart that if they went again, he might not win. And now, the chance had come. This time they were no longer reality-show contestants but equals, competitors standing on the field as professional chefs. No audience votes, no script, no editing for broadcast effect. Only three of the finest judges, and the purest craft of cooking.

Looking at Ethan's name on the interface, the complacency Chris had felt from winning Secret-Menu Night vanished without a trace. In its place rose a long-missed, head-to-head fighting spirit.

"Good," he said quietly to himself.

"Right here in New York. Let's settle it." He closed the interface, lifted his head again, and looked at New York's late-night skyscrapers. Two months. He had only two months to prepare for this hard fight. He didn't just have to win — he had to win beyond all dispute.