Daddy Fantasy World Restaurant

Chapter 559 Sharp-tongued Food Critic? Heh...

“That’s right, we’ll pick five judges and let them decide this contest. Do you have anyone in mind?” Ricky’s expression was still quite relaxed as he turned to Mag, but a solemn look had appeared in his eyes. He was confident in his abilities, but he was betting the manifestations of the blood, sweat, and tears of three generations, after all.

Outside Mamy Restaurant, everyone remained silent as they looked on, intrigued. They were all wondering who would get chosen as judges for this contest.

Of course, they were hoping that this honor would fall to them.

“Seeing as this is a contest with high stakes, the judges have to be more professional. That way, the end result will hold more credibility.” Mag looked around the spectators with a smile, and said, “Does anyone have any relevant professional credentials here? You may step forward for consideration.”

“That works.” Ricky nodded in agreement with Mag’s proposal. This idea was clearly better than finding five random people off the streets to do the judging. The only downside was that his friends and employees in the crowd wouldn’t serve any purpose. However, he was confident in his ability to beat Mag fair and square.

“Boss Mag, President Robert of the Catering Association is here!” Harrison yelled.

Everyone parted to reveal Robert.

“President Robert, would you be able to act as one of our judges for today?” Mag asked with a smile.

President Robert! Ricky’s eyelids twitched upon seeing him. His Robert’s Rotisserie had been stripped from the Aden Square food competition rankings board right when Robert had been instated as the new president. If he were to act as one of the judges, that could prove to be detrimental to him.

Everyone also turned to look at Robert with curiosity, wondering if he would agree or not. As the premier food organization in Chaos City, the Catering Association’s president would definitely ensure fairness in the judging. However, they didn’t think that an impromptu contest like this would’ve drawn the president to the scene. That made the contest even more intriguing.

“I don’t support cooking contests with such high stakes, but both of you have entered the contest willingly, so I won’t interfere. As the president of the Catering Association, I’d be honored to act as a judge in this contest.” Robert made his way forward with a serious expression on his face.

“Thank you.” Mag nodded with a smile. He wasn’t afraid of any authorities; the only thing he was worried about would be having five judges who had all been bribed by Ricky in advance. Robert clearly wasn’t someone who would take a bribe from Robert.

“Renowned food critic, Mr. Febid, is here!” Soon, another voice sounded from within the crowd, attracting widespread attention in the process.

“I can act as a judge for your contest.” Everyone again dispersed to reveal a middle-aged Febid in his charcoal cloak, a brown cane in his hand, and a pair of leather boots on his feet. He sized Mag up with a mocking smile on his face, and remarked, “Your chef’s suit is quite clean; you look like a mackerel covered in flour.”

A burst of laughter erupted from within the crowd. Febid was quite renowned in Chaos City, particularly among foodies. He was known for his sharp tongue, and everyone was surprised to see him here.

As expected, he was exercising his sharp tongue from the get-go. His inclusion on the judging panel would surely make the contest even more interesting.

A smile also appeared on Ricky’s face. He wasn’t very fond of this harsh food critic who had left negative reviews for his rotisserie on many occasions, but it appeared that he harbored more animosity toward Mag for some reason. That was undoubtedly good news for him.

“You’ve got a nice getup as well. Even a duck doesn’t have an a*ss as perky as yours.” Mag smiled as he looked at the bulge in Febid’s rear where his long coat had bunched up.

“Maybe a duck could compare with him if it tried to stick its ass out.” Amy was also looking at Febid’s coat with a serious expression.

“Now that they mention it, his coat really does remind me of a duck out of water.”

“Hahaha, I’m dying of laughter! Boss Mag and Little Amy are so evil!”

“I feel like Febid has been defeated by a restaurant owner for the first time ever!”

An even louder burst of laughter erupted among the crowd.

An enraged flush appeared on Febid’s face, and even his mustache was quivering with fury. Normally, all of the restaurant owners had to suck up to him even if he were to insult them. As such, he had never received such a barbed response before. He took a deep breath to calm himself down, and then pursed his lips as he said, “Chefs let their food do the talking; you won’t get extra points for having a sharp tongue.”

“You’re right. A chef can make a living off their cooking skills even if they’re not good with words, but food critics like you are good for nothing without your sharp tongue.” Mag’s smile remained on his face.

A sharp-tongued food critic? Heh, he’d stood at the pinnacle of that niche in his past life! After all, he was probably the only one who could receive divine retribution and be thrown into an alternate world just for his food reviews.

In comparison, this Febid had much to learn.

Even though Mag had become a chef and owner rather than a food critic, he was not a saint who would listen to others diss him without retaliation. As such, the sharp tongue that he had repressed for so long was showing signs of awakening from its dormancy.

“Hmph!” Febid was too enraged to even speak, and could only harrumph to express his fury. He glared at Mag before standing off to the side in silence. However, he had already made up his mind. He was going to write up a really “good” review for this annoying restaurant owner’s dishes.

Meanwhile, Ricky was overjoyed. Other people clambered to suck up to food critics, while Mag was doing the complete opposite. It appeared that he had Febid’s vote in the bag.

Next, two more judges were chosen. One was a professor from Chaos School with some notoriety as a part-time food critic. The other judge was the owner of Shir Rotisserie, a man who was had a wide renown for being kind and fair. His rotisserie was also in the top 50 on the Aden Square food competition rankings board, so he was a professional when it came to roast meat.

“There’s one final slot left. Is there anyone who would like to step forward?” Mag asked.

With just one spot left, the average foodies didn’t dare to raise their hands. They didn’t feel worthy to stand with such an esteemed panel of judges, and the entire scene fell into a slightly awkward silence.

Right at that moment, a voice sounded from nearby. “Can I give it a shot?”

Even though it was a question, the tone of voice carried a non-negotiable element.

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