Chapter 251: A Freckled Face Chef

The morning air was crisp as they walked out. April took in a deep breath of that clean air and then let it out. It felt like yet another perfect day to be a hoarder.

They boarded the sedan, glided through the iron gates, and made the smooth twenty-minute drive toward the Grand Metropolitan Convention Center.

The atmosphere surrounding the sprawling venue was practically buzzing like electricity itself. Black-suited security personnel held back crowds of spectators, journalists, and broadcast crews, while towering banners heralded the arrival of the nation’s top culinary talents.

Upon arriving at the venue, Xavier, Alexander, and Nat had split off toward the main VIP gallery. As the primary financiers, organizers, and public figures backing the championship, their presence in the prominent front-row balconies was required for the broadcast cameras and the eager gaze of the crowd below.

Meanwhile, Samuel led April and Emily through a quiet, heavily guarded side entrance, bypassing the public chaos entirely to reach their hidden judging suite.

As they walked down a wide, carpeted corridor leading toward the private elevators, Samuel stepped up beside April, bringing them to a temporary halt.

"Miss April, here is the complete digital dossier for today’s championship," Samuel said, handing her a high-spec control tablet. "It includes the minute-by-minute schedule, the contestant profiles, and the verified ingredient manifest delivered to the holding bays this morning."

April took the tablet, her eyes skimming over the categorized data. "Hm, the menu looks promising,"

While April remained focused on the screen, Emily’s attention drifted.

A bright, intricate glass sculpture near an alcove down the hall caught the sunlight, casting vibrant, sparkling prisms across the floor. Entranced by the display, Emily wandered a few steps away from the group to admire it.

At that exact moment, a young man came sprinting around the corner from an adjacent hallway, clutching a heavy leather knife roll tightly against his chest. He was moving far too fast, and by the time he noticed the sudden obstacle in his path, it was too late to stop.

"Watch out—!" he gasped, stumbling right into Emily.

Emily let out a sharp squeak as her balance gave way. But before she could hit the polished floor, the young man dropped his knife roll and instinctively reached out, catching her firmly by her waist. The momentum swung them slightly before they came to a complete halt, inches apart.

"I am so, so sorry!" he stammered frantically, his voice brimming with raw panic as he looked down at her. "I wasn’t looking where I was going," He sounded breathless too. "I was just trying to find the registration desk—are you okay?!"

Emily blinked, her heart pounding against her ribs. As she looked up at the man speaking, her eyes widened. He had disheveled dark hair, a smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of his nose, and wide, striking grey eyes that practically radiated genuine worry.

She was taken aback for a second, but the moment she registered how closely he was holding her, a sudden, bright flush spread straight up to the tips of her ears.

"I—I’m fine!" Emily blurted out, her hands instinctively pushing against his chest to put distance between them. "I’m really fine!"

"Hands off!" Samuel’s razor-sharp voice sliced through the air like a blade.

In a flash, Samuel closed the distance, his hand gripping the young man’s collar with terrifying swiftness, pulling him away from Emily while stepping firmly between them.

Samuel glared down at him through his glasses, his tone icy enough to freeze the room. "Who allowed you to be here? This is a restricted VIP corridor."

"I—I realized that just recently, but I was completely lost!" the young man stammered, trembling slightly in Samuel’s stern grip. "You see, I was trying to take a shortcut, so I—"

Suddenly, his eyes caught the display on his wristwatch. He gasped loudly, his face draining of color.

"I am so, so sorry! I will apologize properly later, but I have to go!"

With frantic, desperate movements, he scooped his dropped knife roll off the floor, broke free from the corridor, and sprinted at top speed down the hallway toward the main contestant area.

April walked over, her eyes following the young man’s fleeing figure with a quiet, observant gaze before turning her attention to her twin. "Emily? What just happened? Are you alright?"

"Yes! Yes, I’m totally fine," Emily murmured, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck, her cheeks still sporting a lingering, rosy hue. "Just... caught off guard."

She looked down the corridor where he had disappeared.

Among the sea of arrogant, world-renowned chefs strutting around the venue with prestigious badges from elite European academies, that guy looked completely out of place.

He wore a plain, unbranded chef’s coat, carrying his own tools without an assistant in sight. Maybe he was an assistant, she thought, or maybe... He was a man taking a leap. Someone like an underdog taking a desperate shot at a massive stage.

A subtle, curious smile touched the corner of Emily’s lips.

"Let’s go upstairs, April," Emily said, turning back to her sister with a bright spark in her eyes.

April raised a subtle, inquiring brow, studying the lingering flush on her twin’s cheeks. "What’s got you excited all of a sudden?"

"I’m just... really looking forward to the dishes," Emily replied quickly, giving an overly innocent smile as she clutched her plush slippers closer to her chest.

April simply shrugged it off as a big appetite. "Very well then. Let’s head up."

Samuel stepped forward, pressing the elevator call button. The sleek metallic doors opened, inviting them into the private lift.

Once inside, Samuel swiped a master keycard across the control panel, causing the lift to glide smoothly up toward the soundproof judging sanctuary overlooking the grand arena.

The moment they stepped out into their private suite, the view took their breath away. Behind the massive expanse of one-way glass lay a bird’s-eye view of the colossal convention center floor. Studio lights flooded rows of pristine, stainless-steel cooking stations, where dozens of famed chefs in embroidered coats were already organizing high-end spices, precision cutlery, and exotic meats.

Standing across the wide arena in the prominent, velvet-draped VIP gallery, Xavier sat with composed grace, while Alexander stood near the railing with a quiet, commanding presence. Nearby, Nat slouched arrogantly in a leather armchair, his sharp eyes sweeping the arena floor like a predator surveying his domain.

Emily immediately stepped up to the glass, her eyes scanning past the prominent star chefs surrounded by eager assistants. Her gaze drifted toward the far outer edge of the arena floor, searching until it landed on a solitary station near the perimeter.

There he was. The freckled, disheveled young man was frantically arranging his humble set of knives on a plain counter, completely alone, while neighboring contestants cast amused, condescending glances in his direction.

"Looks like you’ve already found a contestant to watch," April noted coolly, stepping up beside her twin and looking down through the glass. "Seen any chefs that caught your fancy?"