The sun dipped below the horizon, and the second day of the competition was drawing to a close. Lord Grady strolled onto the main stage, calm as ever. Tomorrow he would announce the top eight finalists. Seeing Charles' desperate expression earlier gave him a small, cruel satisfaction.
Grady opened the envelope and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, let me announce the final eight chefs."
"From the South Sea, Chef Mickey… from the East Sea, Chef Zhepu… and…" Grady paused as he read the last name. His face twisted in anger, as if he might tear the list to shreds at any moment.
"And from Star Island… Chef Charles." Grady barely managed to spit out Charles' name through gritted teeth, then stormed off the stage. He had no idea how Charles had dealt with the pirates.
That afternoon, Leo, Charles, and Will huddled together to strategize.
"Charles, put on my cloak and head to another island to continue the competition. I'll impersonate you and take care of the pirates," Leo whispered.
"You can't do that, idiot. Once the cooking contest starts, no new restaurants are allowed. Even if I move, it won't help," Charles protested.
"You're being stubborn. If you don't have your own stall, why not borrow someone else's? With some persuasion, plenty of desperate chefs would give up their tables."
Charles gazed at the starry night, fear still lingering in his eyes. "But you don't know how to cook. If those pirates find out, they'll kill you."
Leo rolled his eyes. "Stop worrying. They don't seem the type to harm anyone, and I'm very persuasive. I'll make sure they don't complain."
This clever ruse using a fake to stand in for the real chef worked perfectly. Charles completed his KPI and advanced to the quarterfinals. When Leo heard Grady read out Charles' name, he cheered in excitement, joined by a group of scarred but jubilant teammates behind him.
Back in his study, Grady smashed nearly every decoration in sight. "Damn it… even a little boy, and they still got past my traps? Charles actually succeeded."
After venting, Grady's fury subsided. If he couldn't stop Charles from advancing, he would ensure the finals would plunge him into deeper despair. As long as Charles reached the finals, a shocking surprise awaited him. The thought thrilled Grady.
Once his plan was set, Grady requested an audience with a Celestial Dragon.
"Saint Carmel, Lord Grady of Star Island requests an audience," he announced.
"Ugh… that annoying fly again. Bring him in," the Dragon said dismissively. Despite forgetting Grady's name, the Celestial Dragon tolerated him for a bit longer.
"Merciful Saint Carmel, your humble servant Grady has some suggestions for tomorrow's finals," Grady said, his voice dripping with obsequiousness.
The Dragon glanced lazily, "Heh… and how do you plan to please me, boy?"
Grady paused dramatically. "I've just learned a tsunami will hit the waters near Star Island tomorrow afternoon."
"What?! Wha-wha-wha-what? You bastard! Why tell me this now? CP, escort me immediately!"
"Saint Carmel, no need to worry. The tsunami won't threaten the Lord's Island. It will only flood the surrounding islands. Tomorrow you can watch these commoners scramble for survival. And among them are many talented chefs—won't you be curious to see whether they value cooking more than their own lives?"
Unsurprisingly, Grady's words captured the Dragon's attention. Safe himself, he could observe the chaos of ants struggling to survive—a far more entertaining spectacle than a cooking contest.
"Perfect! I'll record everything to show my brothers. Ha ha ha! Dreams and death colliding… this is unprecedented! You're Grady, right? I'll remember you," the Dragon said with glee.
"Thank you, your Grace," Grady knelt, seemingly trying to kiss the Dragon's foot.
On the final day of the Star Island Food Festival, the eight elite chefs took the stage amidst thunderous applause, preparing for their last contest.
"Charles, don't you want to make 'Stargazing'? It best reflects your determination to fight fate," Leo suggested earnestly.
"No way. That's just asking for regret. Do you want to scare the judges?" Charles snapped.
The draw concluded quickly, and Charles' first opponent was the renowned insect cuisine chef.
The judges signaled the start, and the chefs sprang into action. In an hour, knife and food moved like a dance.
The insect chef presented Steamed Glow Beetle Eggs: a beetle spread its wings on a plate, its white egg layer topped with luminous green eggs—like gold set in jade.
Charles' seafood fried rice looked plain in comparison.
"Return my hard work! This is for the most important contest! If you want to give up, just say so!" Leo shouted, red-faced. Will had to restrain him.
The judges first sampled the beetle eggs. Just one bite, and their eyes sparkled green, as if transported to a primeval jungle. They awarded 8 points.
Then Charles' ordinary fried rice. He tasted a spoonful carefully. Suddenly, the judges shivered, arms unconsciously extending as if embracing the world. After a long moment, they returned to reality—and found the plate empty. Without hesitation, they gave 10 points.
"This is incredible, Sbarasi!"
The audience was baffled. How could ordinary fried rice surpass exquisite insect cuisine? Discussions erupted.
"Charles' seafood fried rice isn't ordinary. The grains conceal deep-sea peacock fish roe, the finest ingredient. Remarkably, he cooked it without breaking a single roe. Truly divine skill."
Amid cheers, Charles advanced to the semifinals.
"Congrats! I almost died watching you cook that fried rice!" Leo exclaimed.
"Tch… my cooking is that simple?" Charles muttered, handing Leo and Will two plates of peacock-roe fried rice.
In the semifinals, Charles faced Zeff. Both chose sashimi. The chefs danced with knives over the ingredients. Twenty minutes later, their dishes were presented to the judges.
Zhepu examined Charles' creation: "You're talented. Using the Star Jellyfish is incredibly difficult—the surface is so slippery. The way you sliced it thinly… your knife work alone is worthy of a world-class chef."
At first glance, Charles' plate seemed empty. Rotating it revealed a thin layer of jellyfish reflecting rainbow colors.
Judges marveled at the rare Starlight Jellyfish, a delicacy not easily obtained. One slice in the mouth, and they felt weightless, like floating through the night sky. Tears welled in their eyes.
"This deserves a perfect score. I give 10 points—anything less would be an insult to this masterpiece," a judge declared.
Seeing the judges' awe, Zhepu remained calm. His simple pacific saury sashimi might seem ordinary, but after witnessing Charles' previous skill, the judges didn't underestimate him.
When tasting Zhepu's dish, Leo noticed their faces radiated golden light. "A true duel of masters," he thought. Charles' precision and top-tier ingredients created perfection, while Zhepu transformed humble ingredients into something extraordinary.
The judges suggested the chefs taste each other's dishes to determine the winner.
Charles and Zhepu obliged. After careful tasting, Zhepu admitted, "I lost. Your knife work is flawless—cutting along the jellyfish's surface… I can't do this. Is your hand a knife?"
Charles revealed his power: "I'm a Cold Weapon Fruit user. My body is the knife. But, sir, your mastery over ordinary ingredients is even more admirable. You are a true sea chef."
"Haha, I don't care whether ingredients are luxurious or humble. Bringing joy without wasting food—that's what matters," Zhepu said.
The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers. This once-failing but persistent boy had finally reached the finals.
Charles' eyes, sharp as the knife he embodied, fixed on the Lord's Island. "Greed… I'm coming. This time, I will reclaim my family's honor."
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