Chapter 119: THIRD POV.
He grabbed the wooden edge with one hand, tossing his wet hair back with a quick shake of his head.
He looked quite rejuvenated and fresh, his clothes sticking to his skin and his breathing perfectly steady.
He hoisted himself back into his boat with ease, looking up at the crowd on the battleship with a cheerful wave.
"Damnit!" Flounder cursed heavily beneath his breath, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his single fish tightly. His face burned with a deep, furious red.
Before anyone could ask him any questions or try to mock him, he turned around and began hurrying off down the deck, heading straight into one of the large kitchens on the lower floor of the ship.
Since he’d just failed completely at the first part of the competition, he absolutely refused to fail in the second part as well.
He knew his way around a kitchen when it came to royal recipes, and he was determined to make the most perfect, delicious dish the princess had ever tasted, no matter how many fish Jacob had brought back.
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A few minutes later, the crew hoisted Jacob’s boat up as well, the men whispering in awe as they looked at the massive pile of valuable green-finned tuna.
After getting back on the main deck, Jacob didn’t hurry to prep the meal at all.
Rather than heading inside, he stayed right out on the open deck. He walked over to the storage boxes and fetched several empty wooden barrels, placing them in a neat row.
He then carefully picked up each fish from his boat, placing them inside the barrels one by one.
Jacob then took a long while washing them, using buckets of fresh water drawn from the ship to clear away the sea foam, sand, and blood from the green scales.
By then, Flounder had long since started cooking in the hot galley below, the faint smell of burning coal and melting butter already drifting up through the ventilation grates.
And yet, despite his opponent having a massive head start, Jacob didn’t look bothered at all.
He hummed a small tune to himself, his fingers moving smoothly as he cleaned the fresh meat.
Once he was completely done washing the pile, he walked over to the ship’s tool rack and got a sharp, long kitchen knife and a large, flat wooden board.
He laid the first fish down on the wood, and then he began to skin the fish little by little right there on the open deck under the watchful eyes of the crowd.
’What on earth is he doing? Does he plan on cooking all of that?’ Priscilla thought, her dark eyebrows furrowing tightly for a moment as she leaned over the upper balcony.
’Wouldn’t it be better if he just used one single fish instead of wasting his time cleaning a whole dozen?’ she wondered to herself, her ears twitching with irritation and confusion.
The rules of the wager only required them to prepare a single dish for the princess.
Cleaning that many fish would take a lot of time, and the clock was steadily running down toward the two-hour mark. It seemed like a massive waste of energy.
She wasn’t the only one who thought the exact same way about the situation. Even those watching on from the crew and the captive groups were thoroughly confused as well.
They leaned against the ropes, whispering to each other and shaking their heads. They couldn’t understand why a man who had won the first half of the race so easily was now acting so strange and slow during the most critical part of the game.
But Jacob just kept slicing, a small, smile playing on his lips as the pile of clean fish meat began to grow higher and higher on his wooden board.
Like that, Jacob continued with his work. He didn’t rush his movements, nor did he look at the crew members who were whispering nearby.
He carefully removed all their scales, using the flat side of his long knife to scrape them away in quick, smooth strokes.
Once the shiny green skin was completely bare, he sliced into the bellies and deboned every single one of them, pulling out the bones in one clean motion without tearing the good flesh.
He finished by clearing out all the entrails, tossing the unwanted parts over the side of the ship into the sea, where small waves carried them away.
While he was slow, one had to admit that his skills were impressive.
Every cut he made was perfectly straight, and he didn’t waste a single piece of the valuable meat.
The sailors who had been mocking him earlier grew quiet as they watched his fingers move.
It was as if they were watching a veteran chef who had spent decades working in the finest kitchens of the mainland.
He treated each fish with absolute care, cleaning the meat until it looked like smooth, pink blocks of glass.
But time was still ticking away, and Jacob was still standing by his simple wooden board, far from done.
Soon, the delectable scent of a wondrous dish began pouring onto the deck from the kitchen below.
The air became thick with the rich smell of melted butter, roasted herbs, and perfectly salted fish.
A mouth-watering aroma that instantly made the stomachs of the onlookers rumble.
The captives leaned forward, sniffing the air with wide eyes, and even the tough crew members looked toward the stairs with hungry expressions.
Priscilla’s expression darkened a bit when the smell reached her nose, because it meant only one thing.
Flounder was completely done preparing his meal. He had finished well before Jacob and the smell alone was enough to prove that he hadn’t fumbled in the kitchen.
Priscilla glanced down at Jacob, her white ears dropping slightly in disappointment. She hated losing, and right now, it looked like her first mate had let his own laziness get the best of him.
Like a smug rat, the man made his way onto the main deck with a large silver tray in hand, holding it high with an air of total victory.