Lust System: I will Cuck Everyone

The massive digital countdown clock overlooking the Peninsula Hotel’s grand ballroom finally hit zero with a deafening, electronic buzzer, as the intense, high-stakes cooking phase of the International Culinary Summit officially concluded, leaving the massive room heavily clouded with thick, aromatic steam.

"Time is up!" the booming voice of the event announcer echoed violently through the PA system, as the live broadcast cameras aggressively zoomed in on the heavily sweating, exhausted rival chefs, who all immediately threw their hands into the air to signal completion.

The surrounding VIP tables were completely packed with the city’s absolute elite, as loud, overlapping murmurs instantly filled the grand ballroom, with wealthy patrons pointing their diamond-ringed fingers directly toward the cooking stations.

"I am betting a flat million dollars that the Peninsula’s new chef is going to be completely humiliated," a fat, snobbish real estate mogul sneered loudly, as he swirled his expensive wine. "Look at him! He didn’t even bother to wear a traditional Michelin-starred chef’s hat! He is actively insulting the entire culinary tradition!"

"Do not be so foolishly blind," a younger, sharp-eyed tech billionaire sitting next to him countered smoothly, shivering slightly as he stared at Rick’s broad back. "That man exudes the suffocating aura of a literal apex predator, and I have heard rumors that he bought this entire hotel in pure cash, so only a completely brainless frog would dare to bet against him."

Sitting at the absolute center of the elevated, brightly lit panel table was Lexi, wearing her plunging dark red gown that heavily exposed her deep cleavage, as she tapped her manicured fingernails against her clipboard. She was not actually a full judge for the competition, but rather the glamorous host and anchor of the entire live global broadcast, though her legendary status as a top-tier food critic meant her official vote was highly valued at exactly half of the regular judges’ scores.

To her immediate left and right sat the five official judges, who were all literal old monsters of the culinary and political world, wielding the absolute power to make or break any chef’s entire career.

There was Chairman Chen, an ancient, highly respected, and entirely unbiased veteran of the Asian culinary world, whose sharp eyes missed absolutely nothing. Sitting next to him was Grandmaster Enzo, a terrifyingly strict Italian culinary warlord, and Madame Silva, a fierce South American spice queen who had completely ruined thousands of aspiring chefs with her harsh critiques.

On the far right sat Lord Hasting, an incredibly corrupt, snobbish British food critic who had been heavily bribed by George’s underground syndicate to completely ruin Rick’s score no matter what he cooked. And finally, sitting awkwardly in the last leather chair was the city’s Mayor, who was sweating profusely and constantly wiping his fat forehead with a handkerchief, because he already knew from his private dinner that Rick was a literal culinary god, and he was terrified of offending the billionaire.

"As your host for this evening, I will begin the final tasting by calling forward our elite competitors," Lexi announced smoothly into her microphone, effortlessly maintaining her strict, high-class persona in front of millions of live viewers, even though her inner thighs were actively shivering with desperate anticipation for Rick’s dish.

Chef Antoine, a highly arrogant, middle-aged French Michelin-star grandmaster wearing a pristine white uniform, immediately stepped forward with his chest puffed out in pure, unadulterated arrogance, entirely acting like a victorious king who had already conquered the mortal realm.

Right beside him was Chef Kenji, a Japanese sushi sovereign with cold, arrogant eyes, and Chef Giovanni, an elite pasta maestro, as all three rivals glared viciously at Rick, completely treating him like a dirty peasant who had somehow snuck into their royal court.

Antoine carried a silver tray with a highly choreographed, arrogant swagger, placing a delicate, visually stunning plate of pan-seared foie gras paired with a ridiculous, overly complicated truffle foam directly in front of the host and the five elite judges.

"A true masterpiece of culinary cultivation, crafted with decades of elite French heritage," Antoine boasted loudly, his thick accent dripping with condescending snobbery as he sneered directly at Rick. "It is a dish of absolute, heaven-defying sophistication, something that a certain uneducated hotel cook could never even dream of comprehending."

Lord Hasting immediately picked up his fork, eagerly scooping a massive bite of the foie gras into his mouth, as he let out a loud, highly exaggerated sigh of fake satisfaction to fulfill his corrupt syndicate duties.

"Magnificent! This is absolute perfection, Chef Antoine!" Lord Hasting declared loudly into his microphone, as he shot a venomous, mocking glare directly toward Rick’s station. "This is what true culinary artistry looks like! It completely exposes the pathetic, low-tier garbage that some of the younger, so-called ’Executive Chefs’ are trying to pass off as fine dining today!"

However, Chairman Chen, the unbiased veteran old monster, simply took a small, calculated bite and frowned deeply, completely refusing to join the sycophantic praise.

"It is overly rich, and the foam completely masks the natural texture of the liver," Chairman Chen critiqued calmly, his wise eyes locking onto Antoine with slight disappointment. "Do not speak too arrogantly, Chef Antoine, since true culinary dragons often hide in plain sight, and arrogance is the fastest path to ruining a delicate dish."

The Mayor did not even bother tasting the foam, as he aggressively pushed the plate away, looking at Antoine like the French chef was serving literal dog food, because the politician’s palate had been permanently spoiled by Rick’s heaven-defying Wagyu the other night.

"This is completely average," the Mayor scoffed loudly, heavily wiping his mouth. "You call yourself a Michelin master? My grandmother cooks better liver than this."

Antoine’s arrogant French smirk instantly twisted into a violent mask of pure, humiliated rage, as the other rivals, Kenji and Giovanni, began laughing maliciously, entirely ready to present their own dishes.

"You possess absolute zero palate if you cannot understand the immensity of my artistry!" Antoine sneered aggressively, actively courting death as he turned his furious gaze directly toward Rick, who was standing casually at his station with his hands slipped lazily into his pockets.

"You really think a pathetic, uneducated hotel cook can compete with Michelin-starred dragons like us?!" Antoine roared maliciously, pointing a shaking finger directly at Rick’s chest, completely desperate to regain his lost face in front of the live cameras. "My dish is absolute perfection, so whatever garbage you just threw together is going to make you a complete laughingstock on international television! You are just a monkey playing with fire!"

"He is right," Chef Kenji chimed in with a cold, dismissive scoff. "The Peninsula Hotel has completely lost its prestige by hiring a street rat. You should kneel and apologize for polluting our kitchen air."

Rick did not get angry, nor did he yell, as a dark, highly villainous smirk completely stretched across his face, because watching these crippled dogs bark at a literal apex predator was incredibly entertaining.

"You bark entirely too loudly for a bunch of frogs trapped at the bottom of a well," Rick mocked crudely, his deep, dominant voice effortlessly cutting through the noise of the ballroom, as he pulled one hand out of his pocket and casually tapped his stainless steel counter.

"I would rather be a monkey playing with fire than a washed-up snail-eater serving a plate of glorified duck fat, and a glorified rice-roller serving raw bait," Rick sneered, as his lethal gaze completely pinned the arrogant chefs in place, making Antoine and Kenji physically flinch back from his suffocating aura.

"Since you all love your elite heritage so much, I suggest you pack your knives and book a flight home right now, because I am about to permanently retire your entire careers on live television."

The live audience gasped loudly at the sheer, unapologetic disrespect, while Lord Hasting slammed his fist onto the judges’ table, completely outraged by Rick’s face-slapping arrogance.

"Insolence!" Lord Hasting shouted aggressively into his microphone. "You are actively courting death with that arrogant mouth! Bring your pathetic dish forward so we can give it the zero it absolutely deserves and kick you out of this industry forever!"

"Careful, old man," Rick replied with a dark, terrifying laugh, as he casually grabbed the heavy silver tray resting on his prep station.

The live broadcast cameras instantly swiveled to track his broad, muscular frame, perfectly tailored in his crisp black Executive Chef uniform, as the elite crowd held their breath in sheer, unadulterated suspense, with Chairman Chen and Grandmaster Enzo leaning forward in pure intrigue, completely captivated by the absolute confidence Rick exuded.

Rick reached the long table, as he lazily placed six pristine, white porcelain plates directly in front of the host and the five judges, completely bypassing any flashy, pathetic presentation speeches.

"You might just choke on your own words."

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