Chapter 102: You have eyes, but you fail to see Mount Tai
"Throw him off the stage!" Francois’s lackeys shouted eagerly, sensing blood in the water. "He is insulting the critics with this cheap garbage!"
Elena frowned deeply, her hands gripping the velvet rope, but she did not say a word, because she trusted Rick with her life and knew he would never court death without holding a royal flush in his hand.
Rick let out a low, carrying sigh, shaking his head at the sheer stupidity of the barking dogs surrounding him, deciding that explaining the vast sky to a bunch of frogs was a waste of breath.
"You have eyes, but you all fail to see Mount Tai," Rick mocked lazily, looking directly at the panel of critics sitting in the front row. "Why don’t you let someone with an actual brain look at the box before you choke on your own spit?"
Sitting in the very center of the critic’s panel was Elder Chen, an eighty-year-old culinary historian who held the absolute highest authority in the international food scene, possessing a palate that had judged emperors and cartel bosses alike for decades.
Elder Chen ignored the mocking laughter of the crowd, his wrinkled face set in a deep, serious frown as he slowly stood up from his chair, using his wooden cane to walk toward Rick’s presentation table.
"Step aside, you loud fools," Elder Chen rasped, his heavy voice instantly silencing the snooty socialites, as he stopped right in front of the ancient wooden box.
The old historian pulled a thick magnifying glass from his tweed jacket pocket, leaning forward to inspect the dark, shriveled root, his sharp eyes scanning the rough ridges and the unique, pitch-black coloration of the skin.
At first, Elder Chen’s face was unreadable, but as he leaned his nose just an inch away from the root and took a short, shallow sniff of the faint, almost imperceptible scent radiating from the artifact, a massive shockwave hit his body.
The magnifying glass slipped right out of his trembling fingers, shattering on the teakwood deck with a sharp crack, as all the blood drained from the historian’s wrinkled face, leaving him looking like a sick ghost.
"H-heavens above," Elder Chen stammered pathetically, his knees physically giving out under the sheer, crushing weight of the reality unfolding before him.
The eighty-year-old legend collapsed directly onto his knees right on the wooden deck, ignoring his expensive suit, as tears of pure, unadulterated reverence exploded from his eyes, staring at the dark root as if he were looking at a literal god.
"Elder Chen!" Francois shouted in panic, taking a step forward. "What is wrong with you?! It is just a piece of dirty wood! Have you lost your mind?!"
"Shut your filthy mouth, you ignorant pig!" Elder Chen roared with a sudden, terrifying fury, pointing his wooden cane directly at Francois’s face, his voice trembling with blinding emotion. "You dare call this a piece of wood?! You dare compare your pathetic, common fungus to this heaven-defying artifact?!"
The crowd went dead silent, jaws dropping across the marina, as they stared at the kneeling historian in sheer terror, unable to process why the most respected critic in the world was weeping over a dark root.
"This is not a yam!" Elder Chen shouted, his raspy voice echoing across the silent docks, ensuring every single billionaire and rival chef heard the truth. "This is the legendary Emperor’s Black Lotus Root!"
A few of the older, highly educated culinary masters in the crowd gasped out loud, clutching their chests as their eyes bulged out of their heads, instantly recognizing the mythical name from ancient texts.
"The Black Lotus Root?!" a rival grandmaster wheezed, stumbling backward against the velvet rope. "That is impossible! The historical archives claim the last harvest of that root went entirely extinct over three hundred years ago!"
"It was cultivated strictly in the hidden mountain springs for the ancient emperors," Elder Chen wept, reaching a shaking hand out to hover just inches above the wooden box, too terrified to even touch the priceless item. "Consuming a single slice is said to cleanse the mortal body of all impurities, granting vitality and expanding a chef’s connection to the true Dao of Culinary Arts!"
"You cannot put a price tag on this root, because it is literally priceless!" Elder Chen declared ruthlessly, dropping the ultimate execution blade onto Francois’s fragile ego. "If this artifact were placed in the shadow auctions tonight, global billionaires and cartel bosses would willingly wage wars and pay hundreds of millions of dollars just to own a single sliver of its flesh!"
The entire Azure Harbor Expo fell into a horrifying, suffocating silence, as the sheer magnitude of the face-slapping revelation sent shockwaves through the elite crowd.
The two-million-dollar Alba White Truffle, which Francois had proudly treated as the ultimate pinnacle of earthly ingredients just five minutes ago, now looked like a pile of cheap pig feed resting in the overwhelming shadow of Rick’s mythical, hundreds-of-million-dollar artifact.
Francois stood paralyzed behind his station, his face turning a sickly, violent shade of purple, as his brain short-circuited under the crushing weight of his absolute defeat.
"No... no, that cannot be real," Francois stammered defensively, his hands shaking wildly as he backed away from his own table, realizing his corporate sponsors were going to literally murder him for this public humiliation. "He is a hotel cook! He cannot possess a mythical artifact! The old man is lying! He was bribed!"
Rick let out a dark, booming laugh that carried across the quiet marina, taking a slow step around his presentation table, radiating the heavy, oppressive aura of a tyrant standing over a ruined kingdom.
"You really don’t know when to shut your mouth and accept death, do you, Francois?" Rick mocked crudely, looking at the sweating French chef with absolute, unfiltered disgust.
Rick casually reached into the ancient wooden box, picking up the priceless, mythical Emperor’s Black Lotus Root with his bare fingers, entirely ignoring the horrified gasps of Elder Chen who treated the item like fragile glass.
"You brag about your corporate backing and your two-million-dollar toys," Rick sneered lazily, tossing the priceless root lightly into the air and catching it, giving the wealthy onlookers a literal heart attack. "You think spending daddy’s money gives you the right to lecture me about culinary foundation."
Rick locked his predatory eyes onto Francois’s pale face, leaving absolutely no room for debate.
"Your foundation is built on shiny garbage and loud barking," Rick stated coldly, delivering the final, crushing blow. "My foundation is built on forcing the heavens to hand over their secrets."
Francois let out a high-pitched, pathetic squeak, taking another staggering step backward, his massive pride shattering into a million tiny pieces as he stared at the dark root resting in Rick’s rough hand.
He had eyes but completely failed to see Mount Tai, insulting a hidden dragon who possessed the wealth and power to casually toss hundreds of millions of dollars into the air for a simple cooking demonstration.
[Ding! Quest Completed: The True Pinnacle!] [Objective: You successfully shattered the arrogant rival’s reality by presenting an ingredient that transcends mortal wealth, proving your absolute dominance over the culinary realm!] [Rewards: +1500 Mischief Points, +5% Chef Occupation Progress!] [Current Chef Class Completion: 70%!]
Rick read the glowing blue text floating in his vision, feeling the satisfying surge of system power settle deep into his bones, as he dropped the mythical root back into the wooden box.
He turned his attention back to his cutting board, grabbing the handle of his pitch-black Shadow-Forged cleaver, fully ready to ignite the stoves and show the entire world exactly why he was the undisputed Culinary Emperor.