amaotonovel Chapter 2799: Weird Feast and Nightmare (7)
Chapter 2799: Weird Feast and Nightmare (7)
Chapter 2799: Weird Feast Nightmare (Part )
Obviously, the chef's evaluation of these people was not wrong. They were not interested in food. They often came to this restaurant just because it was the restaurant of the Wayne Hotel and only received celebrities and dignitaries. They only regarded this place as a social occasion and had no respect for the so-called chefs and food.
Some people picked up the pen with trembling hands and scratched their heads to write down a few words, but most of them were just vague and perfunctory. Some people memorized a few sentences and began to write quickly, but they didn't know the cause and effect, and it sounded like a random travel note.
Some people find that they can't write any background stories at all, so they simply start with the flavor of the food, pick up the wine glass, taste the wine carefully, and write down their feelings.
Some people choose to communicate with the people around them. There is no doubt that under the knockout system, no one wants to tell others the answer. Everyone holds the paper in their hands tightly. They don’t want to be the one to be eliminated.
The restaurant was very spacious, but only half of it was in use. There were about twenty tables, each with four people, so the total number of people was close to 100. It was considered very merciful that only the last ten people were eliminated this time, as people all thought that they would not be the one who wrote the worst.
Time passed by minute by minute, and after more than a minute, someone finally couldn't bear it anymore and broke down. A man in a suit threw down his pen and started cursing loudly.
"What the hell is going on? Why am I staying here? I've had enough! I'm leaving now!"
He stood up and took a step to walk out, but it was obvious that the spine hanging from the ceiling would not let him go so easily.
The man pushed the chair away and turned around. The moment he walked out, he felt an itch on his neck, while everyone else showed a look of horror.
The man's spine was pulled out intact.
An entire adult male spine was pulled out from the interface where the spine hung from the ceiling. The nerves slowly spread downwards, then separated the joints of the spine and were absorbed into the ceiling.
The man fell down with his eyes open.
There were screams one after another in the restaurant, but everyone sat in their chairs without moving. They just opened their mouths wide, their jaws trembling constantly, and curled up with pale faces, like quails wet by the rain.
Schiller did not care about these anomalies. He was writing down his answer seriously. Schiller did not think that he had a natural advantage just because he came up with the idea, although it seemed to be the case on the surface.
He let the chef do what a chef should do, which is to make delicious dishes and introduce them to the guests, and the chef did so.
As the person who made this suggestion, Schiller could have anticipated it earlier, listened carefully when the chef explained, memorized everything, and then wrote it down on paper, as if this could ensure his safety.
But it’s not that simple at all.
Schiller did not really regard the chef as a human being just because he seemed to be able to communicate and had his own likes and dislikes. He was not a human being at all. He was a puppet controlled by the monster, or maybe the monster itself. All his rationality had been affected by madness, and he could not be speculated about by human common sense.
He only said that the 10 people who wrote the worst would become ingredients, but he didn't say what constitutes bad. Some people might think that for the dignity of a chef, the less someone writes, the more it proves that he didn't listen to the class and the more it proves that he doesn't respect the chef, so he will naturally be judged as bad.
But things may not be like this at all. The other party is just a monster. He can completely act without the logic of a chef. When he needs to disguise himself as a human, he will come up with a set of seemingly logical rules. When he doesn't need to disguise himself as a human, he will just forget everything. This is what monsters do.
And if you think it's even worse - based on his previous experience on the 19th floor, Schiller doesn't think this is impossible - this might be a trap set by the monster for Schiller.
He did not listen to Schiller's advice at all. He pretended to do so just to play with humanity again. He pretended to follow Schiller's advice and changed the rules of the game, but he could find another reason to judge what Schiller wrote as bad, even though Schiller wrote down everything he said word for word.
Only the Joker who plays games with Batman will stubbornly follow a rule. The monsters in Cthulhu mythology will only install time bombs on the two buttons of the dilemma and let them explode randomly.
Therefore, Schiller never arrogantly thought that he had the initiative. This was always a chaotic game, and the only thing that could be utilized was the collision of chaos and chaos, rather than expecting the monsters to really follow any rules.
Schiller looked at the paper in front of him. Although the chef might not attack him so quickly, he had to be cautious. In this way, he had to answer as comprehensively as possible, but he also had to leave a backup plan.
Schiller began to write furiously. He wrote very quickly, and his handwriting was a little sloppy. The strokes between letters were a little unclear, but this was exactly the effect he wanted.
Jerome seemed to be writing something as well. Schiller was not worried that his communication with Jerome would expose his intelligence, because if he was in the past, then Jerome in the future would not be able to directly tell Jerome about himself.
When the five minutes were up, the waiters came over to collect the notes. A lady sitting on the other side of Schiller stared at the notes filled with Schiller's writing with some envy. She took the initiative to say, "You must have listened very carefully, didn't you? Do you remember the next dish..."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but it just happened." Schiller explained, "I just happened to be interested in wine, so I listened to a few words and added some of my own understanding, but I can't do anything about the following dishes."
All the notes were collected, and the people in the restaurant were anxiously waiting for their verdict. The chef who walked back to the kitchen soon appeared with more than 10 notes in his hand.
Everyone's eyes were focused on him, and he seemed very satisfied. When he smiled, the nasolabial folds formed an arc at the corners of his mouth, making the muscles on his entire face appear particularly relaxed.
"Very good, my friends. I was very surprised by your answers. I mean... unexpectedly bad."
The chef's face suddenly darkened, and everyone's heart skipped a beat. They knew that their life and death now depended on this man's thoughts. If he was unhappy, everyone's chances of survival would become much smaller.
The chef suddenly raised his hand, and a woman sitting on the right side of the table at the end of the room suddenly stood up uncontrollably. She reached out to pick up the knife with a look of horror on her face.
Stab it!
The head fell to the ground, the spine was pulled out, and her body was carried away by the waiters nearby. Soon, a fragrant smell came from the kitchen.
The crowd became even more terrified, but looking at the blood-red spines attached to their necks, no one dared to move.
The chef took out a piece of paper and began to read slowly. What was written on it was incoherent and even contained some information about pop singers. It sounded like an essay written by an elementary school student.
There was no doubt that this was what the woman had handed in. When the chef finished reading it, he looked around the field and found that some people seemed relieved, while others became nervous.
Everyone present was smart. They could roughly judge whether they would be eliminated by the quality of the answer read out by the chef. Those who felt relaxed obviously wrote better than the woman, while those who were very nervous wrote about the same as the woman. They realized that they might be eliminated, so they were afraid and panicked.
But no one was stupid enough to choose to run away because they knew they couldn't escape. An atmosphere of panic filled the restaurant and the chef seemed to be enjoying it all.
He cast an approving look at Schiller, and although Schiller was not at all happy, he still nodded perfunctorily.
Then the chef killed two more people, an old man with silver hair and a woman with heavy makeup, and read out their answers one after another.
There is no doubt that the writing is equally perfunctory. The old man's writing has a slightly higher level of literacy, but it has nothing to do with the topic. The woman is basically illiterate, and her grammatical level makes people wonder whether she is American or not.
This time the chef did not kill them first. Instead, he read out their answers first and used all the words to belittle what they wrote, watching them go from anger to despair. Finally, as expected, their cervical vertebrae were pulled out and they fell to the ground. Their bodies were carried to the back kitchen.
After that, the chef slowed down and read out the answers word by word one by one. Sometimes he would change to another piece of paper after reading the first sentence, just to prevent the people in the room from realizing too early whether they were being read out.
Everyone was on the verge of collapse under this tremendous pressure. Two people could not bear such great pressure and cried and tried to escape, but were undoubtedly killed.
And the chef announced an even crueler news, that is, those who were not selected were not on the list of 10 people, which means that no matter how many people screamed and ran away, he would still use the answers they handed in to eliminate 10 people.
After those with poor psychological quality were eliminated, the mental torture was finally over. After the chef read the last piece of paper, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and many people collapsed directly on the table.
But the chef took out another piece of paper.
Some people started to cry, some looked numb and didn't care about anything anymore, and some even wanted to commit suicide with a knife.
"Next, I must read to you the works of this great writer, Mr. Neogsohipp. He is the best writer among all of you. I have to say that he respects me the most among you. Not only did he write down my words word for word, but he was also able to quote classics and make in-depth analysis. For this reason, I am willing to give him the opportunity to be exempted from the next round."
The chef began to read Schiller's manuscript passionately again. Schiller's expression did not change at all, and everyone else looked at him because the chef pointed in his direction after the introduction.
He was the only one here who looked old enough to be a doctor, so all eyes were on him. Some held resentment, some were envious, some had ill intentions, and some were filled with complicated emotions.
Schiller remained motionless and sat there with a calm expression. When the chef finished reading the script and looked over for the last time, he saw Schiller making the sign of the cross on his chest.
There was a flash of disdain in the chef's eyes.