Chapter 291: Golden Ladle Championship: Finale [7]

"!" Nuelia stared at Lucent, her expression full of shock.

Her total score ended up at 42.6 points. Even if she received perfect scores from the lucky judges later, it would be impossible for her to win. However, Soren could tell she was shocked for a different reason. ’It must be related to the Sister Monie he mentioned just now. And perhaps that’s another reason why they kidnapped her and not me or Damir...’

He kept his theory to himself and watched as Lucent’s turn came. ’Let’s see if he is really as good as he seems to be...’

Tap... Tap...

Lucent ascended to the stage and started his presentation speech. "I’m happy to be able to participate in such a grand tournament, and I’m grateful for this opportunity. But I have to ask... why is there no competition for normal chefs like me?" He paused, letting the question reach everyone. "This festival is meant to be a celebration for everyone in the empire, isn’t it? A time when all citizens, regardless of their background, come together to enjoy themselves. So why, then, are the events only open to the awakened? Does that mean the rest of us are only meant to watch from the sidelines? Are we being excluded simply because we were born without power?"

The arena felt deathly silent at his bold words. Even the judges seemed taken aback.

"I... I love cooking," Lucent continued. "I have spent years honing my craft, just like any other chef here. But when I tried to enter this competition, they turned me away. Not because my food was bad, not because I lacked skill, but simply because I was born without mana." He shook his head, his voice tightening with emotion. "And yet, are we not part of this empire too? Do we not share in its traditions, its culture, its joy? A festival that claims to unite its people should not be drawing lines between them."

He looked directly at the cameras, as if making a world-shaking declaration. "So I stand here today, representing every normal chef who was told they weren’t good enough simply because of how they were born. And I will prove, through my food, that we belong here just as much as anyone else!"

"..."

"WHOOOO!"

After a second of silence, the arena erupted in thunderous applause. One after another, the guards and staff started cheering; some were visibly moved to tears. Surprisingly, even the judges were clapping with genuine emotion.

"Whoa! Look at that, dear viewers!" Faris laughed loudly. "It seems like we discovered the true chef we have been searching for so long! Look at their expressions! I wonder if they are all going to give a perfect score and repeat yesterday and set another record?"

"..."

’...Isn’t he overdoing it a bit?’ Soren thought as he held the urge to shake his head at the possessor’s actions. ’However... To those who are unaware, this definitely makes a convincing performance.’

But for Soren, it looked like a puppet show where the puppeteer was clapping for his own performance.

’Well, at least Lucent is making a valid claim.’ He thought as he repeated Lucent’s words in his mind. Really... Why didn’t they have events for normal people? Weren’t they citizens of the Empire too? More importantly, hasn’t anyone talked about this before? Didn’t City Lord Asad consider it?

’...’

The questions were many, but answers were probably simple enough.

An ordinary cooking competition wouldn’t be as flashy or exciting as one involving magic. It wouldn’t draw the same attention, wouldn’t generate the same revenue. In a festival built around spectacle, events for the unawakened likely just weren’t seen as profitable. Or they didn’t have enough time or people to organize another big event at the same time.

Whatever the reason, though, it didn’t justify what Lucent and his group were doing. Making a valid point didn’t give them the right to put innocent people in danger, forcibly enter the competition, change its rules, or even rig it.

’...Let’s keep playing along for now.’ He muttered inwardly as he watched the judges eat and immediately start praising Lucent’s food. However, surprisingly, they didn’t go as far as to give him a perfect score. Well, not all of them. ’The possessor guy must have done it so his young master would feel as if he were really competing fairly.’

However, once he tasted it himself, he knew it was actually good and deserved all the praise and points he got, well, almost.

"Your skills are truly amazing," Soren said as he started his evaluation. "They are comparable to a four- or even a five-star restaurant chef’s. However, I wonder if you realize how wrong your actions were in getting to this point. And whether you regret any of it..."

"...I don’t regret anything," Lucent responded smugly. "In fact, you should be grateful that I restrained myself."

"...I see." Soren squinted. "Then, I’ll be honest. Your dish was excellent, but.. I also detected three fatal flaws. So, I’ll give it a 7. If you’re interested in knowing what they are, I will tell you later once the competition ends."

"..." Lucent stopped smiling, his gaze turning sharp as he stared at Soren. "...Alright."

"I will give 7 too," Nuelia added quickly from the side, which earned a sneer from Lucent.

"...I..." Damir paused, as if hesitating to decide. "I... I will give it a 9."

The main screen lit up once again, and at the end, Lucent’s score shot up to 62.6 points, currently in second place.

’...He got one more point than me from the judges.’ Soren analyzed the situation. ’But the points he got from us were 1.7 points lower than mine. So now, he is in second place, 1.3 points above Damir and 0.7 points below me...’

He glanced at the broadcasting platform, curious to see what kind of expression fake Faris was making, but unfortunately was unable to. ’Then again, there are still lucky judges left. I guess they’re the trump cards to bring victory to their young master.’

It was now obvious why the random judges rule was added.

’He... had planned everything from the start. To create an ’unforgettable’ play...’