Chapter 730

Chapter 730:

Had those votes been cast properly, Ashton’s dish would have received unanimous praise and achieved a perfect score—matching Morris’ own.

The revelation sent another shockwave through the audience.

Even the most indifferent observer could now see the truth: Pavilion Foods Group had intentionally manipulated the results.

“Bravo, Pavilion Foods Group!” someone in the audience shouted sarcastically. “You accuse others of cheating, yet you’re the ones playing dirty!”

“Exactly! I used to think your group was honest and respectable, but you’re nothing but hypocrites!”

Confronted with the crowd’s harsh judgment, Stephen stood bewildered. He had never imagined that instead of being hailed for their victory, they would become the subject of such sharp criticism.

Morris stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he took the microphone from Jeremiah. His eyes met Stephen’s, filled with disappointment. “Mr. Crawford, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. Truly, I am. But this victory—achieved like this—is a disgrace. I can’t accept it.”

Turning toward Ashton, Morris continued, “Mr. Baldwin, I propose we settle this differently. Let’s evaluate each other’s dishes fairly and honestly and see whose work truly deserves the honor.”

Ashton raised an eyebrow and then gave a small nod.

“That seems fair. I trust your integrity, Mr. Thompson. You’re not the kind of man who’d rely on such underhanded tactics.”

The crowd grew quiet as both chefs agreed to the new terms. The tension in the air was almost palpable as they exchanged dishes and began to taste.

Morris lifted a forkful of Ashton’s dish and paused after his first bite. A look of wonder crossed his face.

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“This… this is extraordinary,” he said, setting the fork down carefully. “Every element of the dish sings in perfect harmony. The textures are remarkable—the tenderness of fish paired with the depth of beef, each type of meat maintaining its unique flavor while blending beautifully. This isn’t just food; it’s art. If I could give a score beyond perfection, I would.”

The crowd broke into smiles and scattered applause, their enthusiasm contagious.

It seemed the championship would end on a high note, with both chefs sharing the glory.

But just as the audience anticipated Ashton returning the favor with a perfect score for Morris, he surprised everyone.

Shaking his head with a smile, Ashton looked at Morris. “Mr. Thompson, your recognition of my dish means a great deal to me,” he said. “But I must be honest—I can only give your dish a score of 80.”

The labyrinth of twists and turns in the competition’s final round had left the audience in a whirlwind of emotions. Yet, the moment Ashton handed Morris a mere score of 80, it was as if a storm had erupted in the arena. Gasps turned into an uproar, shaking the very foundation of the venue.

The audience’s reaction was like a chorus of anger, all voices harmonizing in protest against Ashton.

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