Chương 51: The Victor's "Mercy"

Chris sat in the second-floor immunity seat, feeling the rhythm of the whole world slow down. Below, eleven contestants stood in a row like prisoners awaiting sentence. Their fates were, in this moment, in his hands.

"All right, Chris." Vane's voice came from below; he stood beside the cloth-draped stand.

"As the winner, you have the right to enjoy your spoils. Now, let's see what kind of hell you've prepared for your opponents." Vane threw off the black cloth. On the stand were three dishes. Or rather, three models of dishes under silver cloches.

"These three dishes represent three peaks in three different directions of French cuisine," Vane explained.

"They are: Beef Wellington, Bouillabaisse, and the soufflé." When those three names came out, the contestants below sucked in a collective cold breath. Any one of the three was a chef's nightmare. Beef Wellington — called the hardest steak in the world to make. It demanded a perfect doneness on the filet (usually medium-rare), a mushroom duxelles dry and deeply flavored, a thin layer of Parma ham wrapping it, and an outermost pastry baked golden and crisp without being soaked through by the meat juices.

One slip in any link, and the whole dish was a disaster. Bouillabaisse, a traditional fish stew from Marseille. The difficulty was simmering a rich, deeply savory, un-fishy broth from at least four kinds of local rock fish, and pairing it with a saffron-garlic mayonnaise called rouille. It demanded the highest level of fish handling, heat control, and flavor balance. And the soufflé, that romantic-sounding sweet — called the most emotional of desserts.

Made from whipped egg whites, it had to be eaten within minutes of leaving the oven or it would collapse fast. Control of the whip, the temperature, and the timing had to be precise to the second. It tested a chef's care, patience, and absolute command of timing.

"Chris," Vane looked up at him, "these three dishes each test a chef's command of meat heat and pastry, understanding of seafood handling and flavor balance, and precision in dessert-making. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Now, you choose. Whichever one you pick, the other eleven must make in the elimination challenge." Every gaze gathered on Chris. It was an extraordinarily cruel choice.

"What'll he pick?" Owen asked Jack quietly.

"None of those three is easy."

"If it were me, I'd probably pick Beef Wellington," Jack analyzed.

"It's the most complex process, the easiest to mess up. It'd eliminate the most people with shaky fundamentals."

"No, I think he'll pick the soufflé," Sarah offered a different view.

"Not many of us are good at dessert. Picking the soufflé would throw most people's rhythm off. And… Ethan — I remember from his earlier record, he didn't seem to show much dessert technique." Sarah's words woke everyone. Right. Ethan. The man who'd crawled back from hell, Chris's strongest opponent. Everyone instinctively looked at Ethan. Ethan was looking at Chris too, no fear in his eyes at all — only challenge. As if to say: come on, use your strongest move, show me what you've got.

Chris's gaze rested on Ethan a moment too. Of course he'd thought of this. In his system, the Top-Contestant Ability Analysis Report he'd redeemed for 100 Arena Points spelled out the Ethan section clearly.

[Name: Ethan Cole] [Culinary Rating: B+ (79/100)] [Strengths: French cuisine (A), sous-vide (A+), process management (A), meat handling (A-)] [Weaknesses: home cooking (C), Asian cuisine (C-), improvisation (B-), dessert (B-)] The report stated clearly that Ethan's culinary system was the classic European elite-academy type. He excelled at everything that could be quantified and processed.

But for what relied more on feel, experience, and on-the-spot improvisation — like dessert, especially an "emotional" dessert like a soufflé — his command was relatively weak. Choosing the soufflé was, without question, the best strategy to strike Ethan's weakness precisely. If Ethan were eliminated this round, his road to the championship would lose its strongest stumbling block. It was an enormous temptation.

"Chris, make your choice," Vane urged. Chris's eyes swept over the contestants below, one by one. He saw Jack's hope, Sarah's worry, Owen's tension, and Ethan's undisguised, fight-hungry gaze. He smiled. A very faint smile, almost invisible. He knew what everyone assumed he'd choose. He knew, too, what he should choose from a maximize-your-advantage angle. But he didn't want to. He'd crawled back from the abyss of elimination, and not to win this way.

If he was going to win, he'd win fairly and squarely, win in a way that left everyone convinced. The one he wanted to beat was the strongest Ethan — not a weakened Ethan with his hands tied by the rules.

"I choose…" Chris spoke, his voice carrying clearly through the whole kitchen via the mic. He looked at Ethan and said, word by word.

"I choose Beef Wellington."