Chương 71: Captains: Chris vs. Ethan

Ethan

"This charity-dinner duel will be led by two captains, each heading their own team." Vane's gaze swept back and forth across the seven remaining contestants, like a commander reviewing his soldiers.

"And the captaincies will be based on your overall performance from the start of the season until now. The two who've stood out most will earn the leader's seat." Every heart climbed into every throat. Who would be captain? One spot, beyond any doubt, belonged to Ethan. From the very beginning he'd shown a strength and a gift for leadership no one could match. So who would the other be? Steady Sarah? Or Jack, the meat specialist? Chris's heartbeat ticked up a notch too.

He knew his record qualified him to compete for it—the comeback win in the restaurant takeover, the stunning turn in the mystery-box challenge, the breakthrough in style at the market.

"The first captain," Vane's voice broke the silence, "Ethan!" The result surprised no one. Ethan stepped out of the line without expression and stood at the front.

"And the other captain..." Vane's gaze finally landed on Chris.

"Chris!" Chris drew a deep breath, walked out of the line, and stood facing Ethan. The duel that felt like fate had finally been laid on the table in the most direct way. They were no longer merely rivals in cooking, but direct competitors in strategy and leadership.

"Now, the draft," Vane announced.

"We'll flip a coin to decide who picks first. Chris, you call it." A coin was tossed high, spinning in the air.

"Heads," Chris said. It came down heads.

"You pick first," Vane told him. Chris had the first move. He didn't hesitate—his first pick pointed straight at Sarah.

"I pick Sarah." An unimpeachable choice. Sarah wasn't only steady; more importantly, in the earlier team battles she and Chris had built absolute trust and rapport. She was the kind of teammate you could turn your back on at any moment. Sarah smiled and walked to stand behind Chris. Ethan's turn. His gaze passed over the remaining people, skipped Jack—who'd once shared the Blue Team with Chris—and chose a contestant named David.

David had won his earlier duel with a precise French dish; his technique was solid, his style close to Ethan's. Stolen story; please report.

"I pick David." Then it was Chris again. Of those left, there was shaky-fundamentals Marcus, steady-but-unremarkable Amelia, and Jack, whose strengths and weaknesses were equally pronounced. Chris chose Jack.

"I pick Jack." The choice surprised even Jack himself. He'd assumed Chris would pass on him over that fatal sauce weakness. But Chris had his reasons. In a two-hundred-guest dinner, meat would be the absolute workhorse, and Jack's ability there was top-tier. Used in the right spot, he was a sharp knife. As for the sauces—Chris was confident he could handle those himself. Jack walked over to Chris's team in silence, his eyes complicated. Ethan's second pick.

He took Amelia, a contestant balanced across the board, the kind who didn't make mistakes. Now only one person was left—Marcus, with his decent hand at desserts. By the rules, he went automatically to Chris's team. The teams were set. Chris's team: Chris (captain), Sarah, Jack, Marcus—four. Ethan's team: Ethan (captain), David, Amelia—three. Four against three. By headcount, Chris's team had the edge. But everyone knew it would never be that simple. Sure enough, a meaningful smile spread across Vane's face.

"The team with fewer members gains a special power." He looked at Ethan.

"Ethan, as captain of the three-person team, you may, at any point before the formal service begins, 'poach' one contestant from Chris's team and add them to yours."

"What?" The rule dropped like a heavy bomb, blowing up Chris's whole team. It meant the team Chris had painstakingly assembled could have its foundation pulled out from under it at any moment. Ethan held a wild card that could change the battle in an instant. Worse, the power put an immediate crack of distrust inside Chris's team. Anyone could become the one "poached."

"You have twenty-four hours to design your five-course menus and prep," Vane announced.

"After twenty-four hours, Ethan will announce his decision. Now—take your teams and go discuss in your meeting rooms." The two squads headed for different rooms. In Chris's team, the air was heavy.

"This rule is so dirty," Jack griped first.

"Isn't this just forcing us to turn on each other? Who knows who Ethan will take?"

"He'll definitely take the strongest one of us," Marcus analyzed nervously.

"That's... that's Jack or Sarah, isn't it?" Jack and Sarah exchanged a glance, both going silent.

"No," Chris said suddenly, breaking it. His voice was calm, not a trace of panic in it.

"You've all got it wrong. Ethan won't poach the most technically skilled one of us."

"Why not?" Sarah asked, puzzled. Chris looked at his teammates and said it word by word.

"Because tactically, poaching the strongest one isn't the highest-value move. If he takes Jack, he gets a meat specialist—but he also gets a seasoning time bomb. If he takes you, Sarah, he gets a steady all-rounder—but your style doesn't fully match his."

"Then who will he take?" Chris's gaze deepened. He'd already guessed Ethan's strategy. It was a precise, surgical psychological strike, aimed straight at the heart. The twenty-four hours of prep flew by in tense, efficient labor. Chris led his team in designing a menu that balanced creativity with executability, and finished a mountain of prep work. At last, the moment came for Ethan to announce his decision. The two teams gathered again.

Vane looked at Ethan and asked, "Ethan, have you decided who you'll poach from Chris's team?" Ethan nodded, his cold gaze sweeping over every person behind Chris. Jack held his breath. Marcus clenched his fists. In Chris's heart, the answer was already there. Then Ethan spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it reached every ear clearly.

"I choose Sarah." The instant the name left his mouth, the whole place erupted. Ethan hadn't taken the technically strongest, Jack. He hadn't taken Marcus, who could shore up his dessert weakness. He'd chosen Sarah. He'd chosen not the sharpest knife on Chris's team, but the glue of the group—Chris's most trusted comrade, the emotional core of this little band. What he wanted wasn't to strengthen himself. It was to shake Chris's whole team at its foundation.

Sarah stood frozen in place, her face full of bewilderment. Chris looked at her, then glanced at Ethan across the way—calm as an iceberg. He knew this war had already begun, before a single dish was set on a table. And he had just been put, hard, in check.