Chapter 25: The Chef of Redhaven
The cameraman's eyes widened as he filmed Gordon Ramsay devouring the burger like a starved man. In all their years working together, he had never seen the sharp-tongued chef lose himself so completely to food.
Could it really be possible? Could a prison burger hold such magic?
"This…" Gordon panted after polishing off the last bite, "…is the most delicious burger I've eaten in my life."
There was no hint of politeness in his tone. It wasn't the empty praise he'd offered earlier to keep himself safe. This was genuine, born from awe.
He looked up, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Can I meet the chef?"
The Restaurant Manager gave an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid the head chef is busy with important matters and cannot meet guests."
Gordon's face fell. Disappointment gripped him — because behind this burger, he could sense a story. A prisoner capable of cooking food that humbled even him had to carry a past worth hearing.
Still, as the thought lingered, another idea struck. If I could take this burger back to London… if the world could taste it… His reality show would explode in popularity. This wasn't just food; it was a gold mine.
In the end, Gordon did the next best thing. He packed several crab burgers to go, left the restaurant with a smile, and made a mental note never to forget the taste of Redhaven's miracle dish.
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When the guests were gone, the Restaurant Manager slumped into his office chair, loosening his tie with a groan.
"If I had known being a Restaurant Manager was this exhausting, I would've applied to be a waiter instead."
Sucre rubbed his temples, sighing. His words weren't wrong. In Redhaven's restaurant, every job — whether chef, waiter, or manager — came with incentives. A reduced sentence for good performance. No wonder the place was fiercely competitive. Even lifers longed for the privilege.
So how had Sucre won his coveted position? Simple — he had help.
The truth, unknown to the outside world, was that Redhaven's restaurant wasn't founded by Warden Hunter. The real founder was none other than Tommy Vercetti, the inmate who had shaken the prison three years ago.
Yes, it was Tommy who had built this empire from the inside.
Back then, after dismantling his enemies and consolidating power, Tommy had turned his eyes to a new kind of achievement. His system demanded progress. Redhaven's chaos could only take him so far, so he sought another path: cuisine.
Of course, one couldn't open a prison restaurant on a whim. For that, he needed influence. He mended his broken ties with Sara, and through her high-ranking father, pulled the right strings until Redhaven's doors opened to a new experiment — dining behind bars.
Then came Gianna. With her resources, Tommy smuggled in professional chefs disguised as inmates, men who trained him in the secrets of Western cuisine. The process nearly broke him — nights without sleep, endless practice, exhaustion that wrung his body dry. But Tommy endured. And from that, he reaped the sweetest rewards.
The System's voice echoed in his memory:
[Congratulations to the host for achieving the "Prison Storm" achievement]
[Reward: 800 points]
[Congratulations to the host for achieving the "Novice Chef" achievement]
[Reward: 100 points]
[Congratulations to the host for achieving the "Head Chef" achievement]
[Reward: 300 points]
[Congratulations to the host for achieving the "Master Chef" achievement]
[Reward: 500 points]
Over two thousand points. Enough for two draws.
His panel now read:
[Name: Tommy Vercetti]
[Character Card: Nobi Nobita]
[Ability: Martial Arts Talent]
[Points: 400]
[Items: Delicious Crab Burger – Ancestral Secret Recipe | M500 Revolver]
One treasure from the world of SpongeBob. One from the world of Droopy. A strange mix, yet invaluable.
Without the Crab Burger recipe, Redhaven's restaurant would never have thrived. Without it, Ramsay's awe and the prison's success would never have existed. As for the revolver… unlimited bullets, unbreakable durability. Comedic in origin, lethal in reality.
Tommy's gamble had paid off. His sentence, once a decade, had already been whittled down to six years. With more reductions granted, parole was only months away.
Freedom was finally in sight.
Tommy lay in his cell that night, staring at the ceiling, imagining the day the gates would open.
Unaware that beyond those gates, in a private villa far away, a family sat gathered in the glow of a chandelier.
And the subject of their discussion was him.
"That man is about to be released," the patriarch said grimly. "What are your thoughts?"
END of the chapter
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