Chương 28: The Rival Captain Steps Up

While the Blue Team was still bickering endlessly over division of labor and process, the Red Team kitchen one wall away was an entirely different scene. The director knew exactly how to manufacture drama, and cut the cameras to the Red Team at once. On screen, the six Red Team members ran under captain Ethan Cole's direction like a disciplined army — efficient, in sync.

"David, trim all the steaks, grade them by weight, seal them in vacuum bags, sous-vide. 130°F, an hour and a half. I want every steak at a perfect medium-rare internally before it hits the grill."

"Leo, you're on salmon. Skin-side down, weighted, into the fridge — guarantee the skin is absolutely crisp when seared. Trim the woody ends off the asparagus, blanch and ice-bath immediately, keep the color and texture."

"Maria, dessert's your strength. Make twenty lava-cake batters, every one precise to the gram. Turn the ice-cream machine on half an hour ahead."

"Everyone else, prep! Wings, burger patties, sauces, sides — everything to the list I gave you. Standardized, processed!" Ethan's voice wasn't loud, but it carried unquestionable authority. He didn't bellow like Jack. He stood at the command position at the pass, like a general working it all out in advance, calmly issuing each order. His counter held no scattered ingredients, only one enormous flow chart.

On it, in different-colored pens, every step of every dish was clearly marked, with the person responsible and the time required. He'd even planned the routes for passing materials between stations. Backstage, seeing this, the director shouted excitedly at the camera crew, "Close-up on Ethan! Now cut to the Blue Team chaos! Contrast! I want a sharp contrast!"

And so the viewers at home saw a high-impact split: on one side, Ethan Cole directing with perfect composure, the Red Team each at their post, the kitchen orderly; on the other, Jack barking in agitation, the Blue Team scrambling, the kitchen a wreck. In his individual interview VCR, Ethan Cole faced the camera and radiated confidence.

"A team battle doesn't test how brilliant one person's cooking is — it tests the whole team's coordination and process management. A good captain is like a good CPU. He has to allocate tasks rationally, optimize the algorithm, make sure every component runs at peak efficiency." His words were full of an elite calm and rationality.

"As for the Blue Team… I've seen their assignments. Jack's a decent cook, but he's too emotional. How does a man who can't control his own emotions control a kitchen under pressure?" Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

"And then there's Chris White." A playful smile curved Ethan's mouth.

"I watched his revival round. It was brilliant. That potato dish was very clever, full of calculation and design. In a sense, we're the same kind of person. But unfortunately, he's on the wrong team now. The strongest programmer in the world, handed a pile of garbage code and incompatible hardware, can't write a good program. Tonight, I'll make him understand: kitchen warfare doesn't run on one man's miracle." Ethan's words carried, through the lounge TV, clearly into the ears of the prepping Blue Team.

"This guy is way too cocky!" Jack was the first to crack, slamming his knife down hard on the board.

"He said we're garbage code and incompatible hardware!" Owen said, furious too. Jessica and Sarah said nothing, but their faces had gone quite ugly. Ethan's words were, without question, an insult to their whole team. Only Chris, hearing Ethan's "programmer" metaphor, stirred slightly in the eyes. He raised his head and, for the first time, carefully observed this Red Team captain through the monitor. [Use Data Eye on target "Ethan Cole"?] Chris said it inwardly.

"Yes." The next second, a half-transparent blue data panel rose over Ethan's image. [Name: Ethan Cole] [Role: culinary competitor] [Emotion: confidence (95%), focus (90%)] [Fatigue: 15/100] [Focus: A] [Culinary Rating: B+ (79/100)] [Knife Work: B+ (75/100)] [Heat Control: B (72/100)] [Seasoning: A- (80/100)] [Plating: B+ (78/100)] [Ingredient Sense: B (74/100)] [Stress Tolerance: A- (82/100)] [Creativity: A (85/100)] [Leadership: A (88/100)] When he saw the last two lines, Chris's pupils contracted slightly.

Creativity A, Leadership A. The highest numbers he'd seen to date. The man's overall rating was only a little above his own, but his ability profile was practically built for a team battle. Especially that Leadership of 88, which explained why the Red Team ran so efficiently under him. He wasn't merely assigning tasks — he was using his personal charisma and professional command to make every member follow him willingly. A true strong enemy. Chris closed Data Eye. Two daily uses left.

He realized Ethan's words just now weren't merely trash talk. They were a precise strike at the Blue Team's weaknesses, born of absolute confidence. He'd seen through Jack's character flaw, and through the awkward, ill-fitting position Chris held on the team.

"What are you looking at? Get back to work!" Jack, seeing Chris watching the TV, flared up again.

"A few words from him and you go stupid? Want to win it back, use the pan and the spoon in your hands — not your eyes!" Chris drew his gaze back and ignored Jack's roar. He walked to his sauce station and looked at the beef-bone stock, already breathing a rich aroma. Ethan was right. The strongest programmer can't write a good program on garbage code. But he'd forgotten one thing. A top systems architect never sets out to patch garbage code. He rebuilds the whole system. Chris's eyes grew deep.

He knew that perfecting the sauces alone wouldn't win this round. He had to find a way to rewrite the entire Blue Team's "code." But that needed a trigger. A trigger that made everyone realize the existing system had completely failed and had to be torn down and rebuilt. And that trigger would come soon, once dinner service began, in the most brutal way possible. Chris lowered his head and returned to his work.

He began filtering the stock through cheesecloth and a strainer, again and again, removing every impurity, until the liquid ran clear and bright as amber. He was preparing the most solid ammunition for the storm about to come.