When news of the No. 2 Wagyu reached backstage, the Japanese, known for their caution and humility, grew more confident. Despite this, they remained at a distance, avoiding any interactions with others, making it hard for anyone to provoke them.
As a native of Bingcheng, Jiang Hai knew that no Northeasterner, and indeed no Chinese person, would have any fondness for the Japanese. He, too, harbored a deep resentment toward them, but since he had no personal ties to them, there was no opportunity to directly confront them. However, in front of him was a man actively looking to cause trouble—Roslin Carlett.
"The final result is in: 9.3 points, an impressive score," the staff announced. As the news spread backstage, those in the front also reported the final score. Hearing the number, everyone gasped. With a score like this, winning the championship was certainly within reach.
Though Carlett's Angus cow was good, achieving a 9.3 was no small feat.
But there was another, even larger Wagyu from Suzuki's farm. If this one scored 9.3, surely the Suzuki beef would score even higher, perhaps 9.5?
"It seems the Japanese are going to win this year," murmured people from the Truman and Bavetta companies, who were mostly based in the central and western U.S. They had only come to the east to participate casually. The one truly embarrassed by this development was Carlett Company.
Yet, Carlett Company had little time to focus on the Japanese. Roslin Carlett, the current manager, felt it was better to let the Japanese take the title of best beef than allow Jiang Hai to claim it.
If the Japanese took the title, at least they had proven that their beef was truly the best in the world. The loss to Japan, though disappointing, was still tolerable. But a loss to Jiang Hai would cause a massive stir.
At that moment, Roslin's thoughts were reminiscent of the final days of the Qing Dynasty, when the old emperor would rather give away power to foreign allies than to domestic rebels.
Of course, Jiang Hai wasn't a "domestic rebel" in Carlett's eyes, but the thought of losing to a farm in the eastern region was a blow to their pride.
"Focus on the bet, not the quarrel," Carlett said coldly as the Wagyu came down. "We bet on whether you can win the championship. You owe us 10 million if you lose." The staff began bringing the Carlett cattle to the stage.
Despite the Carlett company's struggles, it was clear that their cattle selection was top-notch. The 755-kilogram cow was slaughtered to yield 506 kilograms of beef—an impressive 2% higher than the average slaughter rate. This beef was comparable to the Japanese Wagyu.
From the 506 kilograms, 42.7 kilograms reached premium grade, making up 8.4% of the total—an extraordinary slaughter rate. The rest was made up of selected and standard-grade beef, which generated excitement from the audience. Ultimately, the Carlett cow earned a score of 9.6, 0.3 higher than the Wagyu.
To many, this cow might have claimed the championship, were it not for the Wagyu that followed. As for Jiang Hai's cow, which had looked promising yesterday, no one seemed to remember it.
When Carlett's team stepped down, Roslin Carlett took a moment to smile at Jiang Hai with triumph. In his eyes, the victory was almost certain. Even if Suzuki's Wagyu could not be beaten, there was no way Jiang Hai's beef would outscore his.
Though he knew Jiang Hai's beef might be of good quality, with 20,000 cattle, it was unlikely that Jiang Hai could achieve the same level of premium beef that Carlett's had.
If only Carlett had known how powerful Jiang Hai's cattle were, he might have avoided antagonizing him. Of course, Carlett was unaware, and any mistakes were Paul Kaye's, not his.
As Roslin walked off, smug and overconfident, Jiang Hai couldn't help but smile. This man was clearly asking for trouble.
Next up was Suzuki's largest Wagyu, which drew a louder cheer from the audience. As the data from the front stage reached him, Roslin's confident smile faltered. The news from the front was troubling.
This Wagyu had yielded an astounding 67 kilograms of premium beef. While not impressive relative to the original weight of the cow, the quality was undeniable.
As the beef was placed on the scale, both the audience and the judges were captivated.
Zhang Dehai, sitting below, along with Prawalton and other purchasing staff, whispered excitedly. This level of Wagyu, whether in Japan or the U.S., was among the finest. At $700 per kilogram for premium beef, this alone was worth $46,900, with the remaining selected beef worth another $40,000. Together, the total value of this Wagyu was close to $100,000—a staggering amount.
For cattle breeders, the value of a single cow was enough to take anyone's breath away.
A cow like this, once bred and raised, could generate significant profits, though the actual cost of raising one was closer to $60,000. After taxes, a profit of just $10,000 per cow was still impressive, enough to excite anyone in the industry.
But as much as they marveled at the cow's value, they knew that such top-tier Wagyu would never be exported. Its primary role was in competitions, and Japan kept such livestock within its borders, leaving others only to envy.
"Beef king! Beef king! Beef king!" The crowd chanted as the Wagyu was prepared.
For the audience, seeing such a remarkable specimen of beef was a rare treat.
"I remember the last time I saw a special beef over 60 kilograms—thirty years ago, when you were still small," Zhang Dehai said wistfully. His son, sitting beside him, glanced at his father and noticed the distant look in his eyes. He knew his father was thinking of his mother. He didn't speak, but simply patted his father's shoulder in support.
"I'm fine. By the way, didn't Xiao Jiang's cattle also make it to the finals? They've yet to appear. I wonder if being last to go on stage will be a blessing or a curse," Zhang Dehai mused, shaking his head in surprise.
Indeed, in competitions like this, the later competitors often had less chance of winning. But if Jiang Hai's beef was better than the Wagyu, the championship would be his. If not, it would be problematic, and Zhang Dehai couldn't help but worry.
As the judges gave their scores, the Wagyu received a 9.7. Had it not been for the Japanese background, it could have easily been a 9.8 or even a 9.9.
"Looks like you'll be losing that 10 million," someone backstage said, while Roslin Carlett, once nervous, now relaxed at the news.
With a score of 9.7, though it was a loss, he could still look forward to humiliating Jiang Hai and collecting the 10 million.
"My cow hasn't even come out yet. Don't be in such a hurry. But I suggest you prepare the 10 million. You only have an hour," Jiang Hai said with a raised finger, looking at Roslin Carlett.
With that, he moved forward, bringing his first cow to the exhibition stand.
As soon as he arrived, the old man who had mentioned visiting his manor the day before stood up, visibly interested in his cow. Jiang Hai smiled and gestured for the butcher to start cutting.