Chapter 360

Vanessa wanted to protest but knew better than to defy their orders.

Within minutes, she found herself escorted to the police station just as the final round of the competition was about to commence.

N?velDrama.Org held all rights to the event.

The decisive moment had arrived, yet the nature of the challenge remained shrouded in mystery.

Instead of an immediate announcement, a procession of attendants entered the grand hall, each bearing silver trays with practiced smiles.

Every contestant exchanged confused glances at this unexpected development.

The attendants placed the trays before each participant before lifting the lids in perfect synchronization.

Two identical-looking perfume bottles rested on each tray, distinguishable only by their labels.

The head judge cleared his throat.

"Absolute silence, please." His voice carried across the room. "First, congratulations on reaching this final stage. Your presence here confirms you're among perfumery's elite. But the road to becoming Laurentia's master perfumers remains long. Today's challenge will separate the exceptional from the merely excellent."

He paused for effect before continuing. "Before you lie two fragrances. One crafted by Mr. Whitaker himself, the other by a mid-tier perfumer. Your task is to analyze both, identify their components, and evaluate their comparative strengths and weaknesses."

"Document your findings using the provided materials. The contestant with the most accurate analysis wins. In case of ties, the faster completion time will determine victory."

A silver stopwatch appeared in his hand.

"Begin!"

Nearly every participant reached for the bottles simultaneously, yet none rushed to open them.

Professionalism prevailed.

They began by visually examining the vessels, attempting preliminary scent detection through the glass before cautiously removing the caps to allow gradual olfactory assessment.

Finally, they applied droplets to their wrists to discern the base notes.

All followed this methodical approach—except Evelyn.

Her fingers first traced the embossed labels, her sharp eyes noting the identical markings on every tray.

Both perfumes bore clear attribution: one to Harrison Whitaker, the other to the anonymous mid-tier perfumer.

This transparency struck her as unusual.

Standard practice dictated obscuring such information to prevent bias—novice perfumers often idolized masters like Whitaker, while others harbored competitive resentment toward established names.

Yet here, the organizers had deliberately revealed both creators' identities.

Evelyn's gaze lifted to the head judge, who monitored the room with an inscrutable expression that promised impartiality.

Her attention then drifted to Vanessa's conspicuously empty seat.

The absence confirmed her rival wouldn't be participating.

Returning to the task, Evelyn brought one bottle to her nose.

A delicate floral bouquet greeted her senses.