Chương 148: The Night Before, Finding the Crack

France beat Korea with no suspense at all — a result within everyone's expectation. But the way the match unfolded sent a thread of cold through everyone who watched. France hadn't used their full strength at all. Raphaël hadn't even taken the floor himself to handle the core dishes; he'd handed more of the chances to his two seconds. And even so, they took the match easily, by an outright margin.

It was a strength that moved with room to spare — an absolute confidence that said, I haven't even gotten serious yet, and you've already fallen. The semifinal bracket was formally announced on the big screen: USA vs. France. A reunion of fate. The spectators and media all boiled over. It was the most anticipated duel since this League had opened. The American team, who'd lost by three points in the group stage, had grown stronger with every elimination match.

Could they, in this battle of revenge, climb over the mountain that was France? The eyes of the whole world fixed on these two teams. That night, the mood in the American team's training kitchen was graver than it had ever been. Ethan and Kira watched all of France's footage over and over, trying to find some flaw in it — but the result was dispiriting.

"This guy… he has no weakness at all." Ethan's fist hung limp on the table.

"His technique, his creativity, his team leadership — all top-tier. In the group stage we already fought with everything we had, and we still lost."

"His dishes are too complete," Kira said too, brow furrowed.

"In the depth of concept, in the presentation of taste, there's almost no point you can attack. It feels like… no matter what we do, we'll be suppressed by him." A defeatist mood began to spread through the team. Chris said nothing. He only sat at the computer and pulled up the system's deep-analysis module. He imported all the dish data of the French team, from the group stage and the eliminations both. Temperature, humidity, cooking time, ingredient ratios, flavor curves…

tens of thousands of data points gathered in Chris's mind into a vast, complex three-dimensional star chart. In this seemingly perfect starry sky, he had to find the one not-quite-so-bright star — the one that stood for "weakness." Time passed, second by second. Ethan and Kira had already gone to rest, and the whole training kitchen held only Chris and the data stream flickering endlessly on the screen. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

In the darkest hour before dawn, Chris's eyes suddenly went bright. He'd found it. It wasn't an obvious weakness — it couldn't even be called a weakness. It was only an extremely hidden, recurring "characteristic." Raphaël's dishes — whether the group stage's "Absence of Fire" or the round of eight's "Flowing Architecture" — showed astonishing talent. But Chris found that his dishes could be sorted clearly into two categories. One kind, like "Absence of Fire," was extremely rational.

Full of philosophical reflection and conceptual deconstruction, like a precise art installation, able to stun your mind in an instant and make you marvel at his intellect. The other kind, like the onion soup he'd bought Chris at the little night-market bistro, was extremely emotional. It returned to the essence of the ingredient, full of warmth and human feeling, able to touch the softest place in your heart with ease. But he had never, in a single dish, unified these two qualities perfectly.

His dishes were either pure "technical domination" or pure "emotional resonance." He could switch freely between the two, but he seemed unable to fuse them. This, perhaps, was the edge of his ceiling. A chef who could reach only the mind, or only the heart — no matter how strong — was, in the end, not the most complete. And truly great dishes, the kind that pass down through the ages, must be able to both stun the mind and move the heart.

"We can't beat his technique, and we can't beat his creativity," Chris murmured to himself.

"But maybe we can surpass him on 'completeness.'" A bold strategy began to take shape in Chris's mind. Early the next morning, when Ethan and Kira saw Chris, they both started. His eyes were bloodshot, but their light was startlingly bright.

"I've found a way." Chris's voice carried the hoarseness of a sleepless night, but it was full of strength. He told his two teammates what he'd found.

"In the semifinal, we don't compete with France on whose technique is flashier, whose concept is deeper. We compete on one thing — whose dishes are more honest."

"Honest?" Ethan and Kira both didn't quite follow.

"Yes. Honest." Chris nodded.

"We put the most private things about ourselves into our dishes. We're not just cooking — we're using dishes to tell our own stories. We make the judges taste not only a flavor, but a real emotion, a single unrepeatable life."

"Ethan," Chris looked at him, "why did you become a chef who chases perfection? Behind your cold technique, what kind of story is hidden?"

"Kira," he looked at Kira, "those wild, soaring ideas of yours — where does the inspiration come from? Beneath your ethereal artistry, what kind of childhood is there?" Chris's questions sent both Ethan and Kira into silence. All this time they'd been working to become "the best chefs," and rarely thought about how to become "the truest versions of themselves."

"For this match, we make three dishes. One dish belongs to you, Ethan. One dish belongs to you, Kira. And one belongs to me." Chris's tone was full of an unarguable resolve.

"We pour the deepest memories, emotions, even wounds of our hearts, without holding anything back, into our work."

"We make our dishes have a soul. A scalding, real soul, carried by the ultimate technique."

"Only that way do we have any chance of lighting, on that perfect iceberg, a flame hot enough to melt it." Ethan and Kira looked at Chris, at that mad, unyielding light in his eyes. They knew Chris was leading them into a gamble. A gamble that bet everything they had on a chance of victory slim to the point of nothing. But somehow, in that moment, the fear and unease in their hearts vanished. In its place rose a desire, greater than ever before, to pour themselves out.

They decided to go mad, once, together with Chris.