Chương 78: Three Beat Four

To the two teams, the bell ending service was like the dividing line between heaven and hell. In Chris's kitchen, the three men were too exhausted to stand, but every face glowed with the relief of a burden lifted. Their stations, even after service, stayed astonishingly clean. Every pan washed, not a speck of grease on the floor. It was the ease that belonged to victors. The other side, Ethan's kitchen, was a wreck. Used plates piled in the sink, spilled sauce streaked across the floor.

The four of them were just as spent, but a pall of defeat hung over their faces. Sarah leaned against the wall, her eyes hollow; Amelia was secretly wiping away tears. Ethan stood in the center of the kitchen, expressionless—but his clenched fists betrayed the resentment inside him. The seven contestants were gathered to the center of the ballroom, standing before all the guests and judges, awaiting the final verdict. Gareth Vane walked up to them holding a tablet.

"Tonight, you served nearly a thousand dishes to two hundred guests. That's a grueling task." His voice echoed through the quiet ballroom.

"Some teams chose steadiness and efficiency. Some teams chose ambition and the limit. Now, let's look at the data." Every heart climbed into every throat.

"First, service time." Vane's gaze swept over the two captains.

"Chris's team, responsible for one hundred guests, five courses—average service time, eleven minutes twenty." The number drew a low murmur of astonishment from the food critics in the audience who knew their craft. Three people, achieving that speed—it was almost unbelievable.

"Ethan's team," Vane's tone didn't change, "responsible for one hundred guests, five courses—average service time, thirteen minutes forty-five." A gap of over two minutes—in a large dinner service, enough to decide a guest's experience.

"Now, the key figure—the negative-review rate." Vane leaned on the words.

"This number will decide your fates directly." The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. He looked at Ethan first.

"Ethan's team, your menu was deeply ambitious, highly technical. Your foie gras mousse, your turbot—both showed top-tier skill. But," his tone turned slightly, "your ambition outran your ability to execute it. Excessive appetizer wait time took two negatives. The Beef Wellington main, because of the pastry problem, took four. Your final negative-review rate is six percent." Ethan's face darkened. Six percent—the number landed like a heavy hammer, slamming into his heart. Then Vane's gaze turned to Chris.

Chris could feel Jack and Marcus both trembling, and his own heartbeat began to race. He knew his team had done well, but until the result was announced, everything was unknown.

"Chris's team," Vane looked at him, his eyes complicated, "your menu, frankly, was very 'safe.' Safe to the point of being almost boring. Smoked salmon, Lobster Bisque, seared fish, seared steak... these are dishes any ordinary restaurant could make." At that, the color drained from Jack's and Marcus's faces. Could it be...

"But," Vane's voice turned again—this time carrying a trace of approval, "you made these simplest dishes with extreme consistency. The three of you, like a precision German machine, made almost no mistakes across three hours of service. Your menu design is the smartest, most efficient team strategy I've seen in all my seasons of Burning Kitchen." He paused, looked at the tablet in his hand, and announced the final figure.

"Your only flaw was in the fish course—you redid a batch to hold your quality, which led to two complaints over slightly longer wait. Your final negative-review rate..." Vane lifted his head and looked at Chris, his eyes blazing.

"Two percent."

"We won!" Marcus was the first to scream it, throwing his arms around Jack beside him. Jack grinned wide too, a brilliant smile, and pounded Chris's back hard. Chris let out a long breath, the nerves he'd held taut all night finally easing. The joy of victory washed over him like a tide. Warm applause filled the ballroom.

"So, tonight's winner is—Chris's team!" Vane announced loudly. Chris, Jack, and Marcus pulled into a tight three-way embrace. With a win that had looked impossible, they'd proven the power of teamwork—and proven the success of Chris's "systematized" kitchen philosophy. After the applause, the mood turned heavy again. Because everyone knew what came next: the cruel cut. Vane's gaze fell on the four members of Ethan's team.

"Ethan, David, Amelia, Sarah. Two of you four, tonight, will take off your aprons and leave this kitchen. Forever." Sarah's body swayed; the color drained from her face in an instant. The smile froze on Chris's face too. He looked at Sarah across the way, and a wrenching ache rose in his chest. He'd won the competition—but his friend, because of it, had been driven to the edge. This was Burning Kitchen: a cruel battlefield with no tenderness, only winners and losers.