After making his promise, he pulled out his cell phone once more to confirm the date: May 20th, 2213. He couldn't believe it. Out of all the possible days he could have been sent back to, why did it have to be this one?
His body started to tremble as traumatic memories flooded back in. The searing pain he felt, his screams of agony, the scars that still covered his body.
Despite his efforts to suppress these memories, they were vivid, as if they had just happened. The only thing he could do was press his nails into his palms, hoping the physical pain would snap him out of it.
But it was no use. The memories only grew stronger, pulling him deeper into their grip. And then, like a torrential wave crashing over him, he was transported back to that time.
Flashback:
Ever since his unfortunate accident on the cooking show run by the Yu family, he never thought he would have another chance to participate. So when the producer of the show called him, he was overjoyed.
Mrs. Yu had asked for him personally. She still remembered his exceptional cooking skills and wanted him to join her show as a judge. But first, she wanted him to showcase his talent in a special episode of the program.
This was a huge opportunity for him. The Yu family was one of the wealthiest and most influential families in Korea, even renowned in America. And Mrs. Yu's show, Family Kitchen, was extremely popular with viewers.
Despite his initial hesitation, he saw being a judge as a way to further his career. It would provide him with enough funds to eventually open his own restaurant, and any fame he gained from the experience would attract more customers.
He decided to keep his participation a secret, relishing the thought of surprising everyone. At the show's welcoming party, he watched Camille's face as she saw him. Her eyes widened, her smile faltered, and a brief flash of something dark crossed her features. He had thought it was shock, but now he recognized it as displeasure.
On the day of the shoot, everything was running smoothly. He and his assistant were stationed in their cooking area, while the other five participants prepared in theirs. He noticed his assistant's presence drew some glances, but everyone seemed to understand, especially Camille.
Camille made a point of stopping by with a warm smile, saying, "If you need any extra help, just let me know. I'd be happy to assist once I'm finished." Her caring demeanor had everyone, including him, convinced she was a sweet girl. He should have seen through her act.
As the show began, he felt a surge of confidence. With an assistant by his side to handle the frying duties, he could focus on perfecting his dish. The Outdoor Picnic theme inspired him to tackle the dish he couldn't complete last time—Chili-Lime Chicken Wings with baked French fries and egg salad—as a form of closure.
He believed it was a smart decision, reasoning that everyone else would be preparing extravagant dishes to impress. But as they say, fancy does not always mean delicious.
With only an hour to prepare the meal, he assigned his assistant to handle tedious tasks like chopping the chicken wings into two parts and peeling potatoes, while he focused on the rest.
Despite his injured hand slowing him down, everything was going smoothly. The only annoyance was the constant commentary in the background and the host's occasional check-ins to see how everyone was doing, but that was part of being on a TV show.
He used to think his assistant was a lifesaver, impressed by her efficiency. Watching her work, he often felt envious, wishing his hand wasn't injured. Despite physical therapy helping, he knew it would never fully recover to its previous state.
As he was finishing up the egg salad, a light tap on his shoulder startled him. He spun around to see Camille standing there, smiling brightly.
"Need any help?" she asked, glancing over at his assistant who was busy taking the chicken out of the pot.
He hesitated before shaking his head. "No, I've got it under control," he replied, determined to do it himself.
Camille nodded understandingly, patting his assistant's shoulder and saying, "Take good care of him, okay?"
His assistant gave a reassuring smile and nodded, while Camille smiled brightly before walking away. But as he reflected on her smile, something about it seemed off.
Once she was gone, he remembered reminding his assistant to turn off the heat and carefully remove the pot of boiling oil from the stove. However, out of nowhere as she picked up the pot, she appeared to trip over thin air, causing the scalding liquid to fly towards him.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion as he watched the pot of boiling oil slip from his assistant's grasp. His heart raced and a sinking feeling took hold of his chest. Memories of his previous accident filled his mind - the searing pain, the scalded skin, the unbearable agony.
'Not again,' he thought, but his voice was drowned out by the rush of adrenaline. The boiling liquid splashed towards him and before he could even react, excruciating pain consumed him. He let out a primal scream as fiery agony coursed through his body.
Then out of nowhere, a pungent odor of burnt flesh surrounded him. He knew instantly that it was his own meat being cooked. The smell was etched into his memory and would never leave him, even on his deathbed. It was a vile and repulsive scent that he could only compare to the stench of singed hair and congealed blood.
The intense pain caused him to lose consciousness, leaving him unaware of what had transpired. Two weeks later, he regained consciousness in the hospital with Maya sitting at his bedside.
His entire body was cocooned in bandages. Curious about what had happened, he asked her for an explanation. Maya informed him that there had been an accident, and although the scars were minimal, his nerves were damaged and he needed to remain hospitalized for several weeks to recover.
Fortunately, the show paid him three times more than what they owed him and covered his medical expenses. The extra money helped him a lot during the time of his recovery.
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