Chapter 728
Chapter 728:
Ashton mirrored Morris’ smile and responded calmly, “I share your anticipation. Let’s see if your version surpasses the one you crafted last time.”
While the two challenged each other, Malcom, who was quietly helping serve the dishes, took the opportunity to sneak a taste of Morris’ Meat Eater Casserole and then compared it to Ashton’s rendition.
To Malcom’s delight, his discerning palate confirmed that while Morris’s interpretation remained competent, it lacked growth or innovation. By contrast, Ashton’s dish was a masterpiece, elevated to an even greater level of perfection.
Malcom leaned toward Ashton, nudging him lightly with his elbow, and whispered with barely contained excitement, “It seems he’s hit the ceiling of his understanding of the dish. But your version… it’s on a whole new level this time. I honestly think we might just pull off a win!”
Ashton, who had been intently watching the audience savor the dishes, exhaled softly and offered Malcom a faint, bittersweet smile. “I appreciate the compliment, but I have a feeling this isn’t going to end in our favor.”
Malcom froze, confused by Ashton’s sudden shift in tone. “What do you mean? Did you sneak a taste of his dish? I was sure yours was leagues ahead!”
Shaking his head, Ashton fixed his gaze on a particular section of the crowd. “It’s not about the dishes this time. It’s about the audience judges. Do you see those two over there?”
He gestured subtly toward two figures seated at the back, their faces partially hidden beneath baseball caps. “They’ve been here since the preliminaries. I’ve noticed them more than once, always among the loudest doubters and critics of our work. If I’m not mistaken, the Crawford family got wind of the judging rules ahead of time and planted their people in the audience to sway the outcome. I’d bet anything that, no matter how perfect our dish is, we won’t score higher than 98.”
Malcom’s expression darkened as the weight of Ashton’s words sank in. The thought of losing because of manipulation rather than merit left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“If that’s true, this isn’t a fair competition anymore. It’s a game designed to be rigged from the start.”
𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝗮𝘁 gⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⧺𝖼𝗈𝗺
Ashton gave a slight nod but said nothing, his focus still fixed on the crowd.
Once the audience had finished sampling the dishes prepared by the five teams, the voting process finally began.
The rules for voting were straightforward. Each audience member assigned a score to the dishes, with every vote contributing a single point to the final tally.
When the votes were finally counted, the organizers stepped forward to announce the results.
Ashton’s prediction proved eerily accurate—their dish earned a score of exactly 98.
It was a truly exceptional score, reflecting the impressive quality of their creation.
Yet, Morris, Ashton’s strongest rival, achieved what seemed unattainable: a flawless score. Every single person who sampled his dish offered nothing but unanimous praise for its brilliance.
With that, the final bit of suspense surrounding the competition evaporated. Morris, having secured perfect scores across all three rounds, was indisputably declared the champion of this year’s contest.
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