The sous chef's expression changed.
He tried to pull the knife back, but found that the blade was firmly gripped in the bone.
He then tried rotating his wrist, attempting to use a clever technique to sever the ligament.
Click.
A cracking sound, extremely faint yet clearly audible in the quiet kitchen.
The tip of that expensive Japanese sujikito broke off.
A small, shiny piece of steel flew out and landed on the stainless steel countertop with a mocking sound.
You could hear a pin drop in the entire kitchen.
Cold sweat instantly broke out on the sous chef's forehead.
He clutched the broken knife in his hand, his face even more ashen than the piece of dead flesh.
Laurent's smiling face instantly darkened.
His brows furrowed, his gaze darting back and forth between the broken knife and the somewhat rough cut.
That look in his eyes was as if he were looking at a work of art ruined by a mediocre person.
"Idiot."
Laurent squeezed out the word through clenched teeth.
"That's for cutting meat, not for chopping rocks! You ruined my knife and almost ruined this piece of meat too!"
The sous chef lowered his head, not daring to say a word.
The apprentices around them didn't dare to breathe, fearing that the anger would befall them.
Dealing with beasts of this caliber was completely beyond their comprehension.
Even experienced sous chefs seemed helpless when faced with these ingredients, which were full of primal wildness.
They were used to the clean, standardized cuts of meat delivered by suppliers, not these enormous pieces just dragged out of the wilderness.
Su Wei sighed.
He threw his half-smoked cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out with the toe of his foot.
"Get out of the way."
The sound wasn't loud, but it pierced the silence in the kitchen.
Su Wei went into the kitchen.
The boots left muddy marks on the clean floor, but no one dared to say anything at that moment.
He walked up to the cutting board and glanced at the sous chef, who was covered in sweat.
"What are you thinking, using a knife meant for sashimi to dissect a brown bear?"
The sous chef opened his mouth, wanting to explain, but found himself speechless.
Su Wei did not reach for the exquisite kitchen knives on the knife rack.
His hand reached down to his lower back.
Accompanied by the sound of leather rubbing together.
The Alaska Harpoon Survival Knife that had accompanied him on skinning and dismembering animals in the snowy mountains was pulled out.
The blade is thick and wide, without any fancy Damascus patterns on the surface, only scratches left from countless polishing and dark bloodstains that cannot be washed off.
The blade has a practical matte gray finish, looking somewhat rough and even a bit ruthless.
But the moment this knife was revealed, its unique luster made those around it wary of underestimating it.
Su Wei weighed the knife in his hand.
The weight is just right, and the center of gravity is perfect.
He turned his head and looked at Laurent, who was about to explode, his tone calm but with the confidence of an expert.
"You guys can't handle this kind of thing."
"Your knives are too delicate when you're cutting this thing; they look like a woman's embroidery needle."
Su Wei stepped forward, his left hand gripping the massive shoulder blade like an iron clamp, while his right hand held the survival knife high.
Under the cold, white light of the operating lamp, the rough hunting knife flashed with a cold glint.
"I'll have to use my method."
All eyes were on him.
Su Wei ignored the surprised and uncertain looks from them.
He spread his left hand, fingers outstretched, and gripped the massive bear shoulder, still warm from his body, like an eagle's claw.
With a firm press of his thumb, he sank deep into the thick layer of fat, accurately pinpointing the point where the humerus connects to the scapula.
No systematic gold line guidance is needed.
Countless experiences of skinning and dismantling bones, coupled with the tactile feedback from Bone Cleaning LV2, instantly made the skeletal structure hidden beneath the red and white muscles three-dimensional in his mind.
Where are the ligaments, where is the cartilage, and where are the weak points that can dislocate a joint with just a gentle pry?
Everything is clearly visible.
"Watch closely."
Su Wei gave a low shout.
He gripped the thick Alaska Harpoon in his right hand, the tip pointing vertically downwards.
puff.
A dull thud as flesh was struck.
There were no fancy cutting movements.
The rough hunting knife pierced directly into the spot where Su Wei's thumb was pressing, avoiding the hard bone and penetrating the joint cavity filled with synovial fluid.
The sensation of resistance disappearing traveled back to the palm along the hilt of the knife.
Su Wei suddenly flipped his wrist outward, using the thick blade as leverage, while simultaneously pressing down on the bear's leg in the opposite direction with his left hand.
Wave.
A sharp, teeth-grinding crack.
That was the sound of the joint capsule being forcibly torn apart and the bone dislocating.
The sturdy joint that had previously baffled the sous chef and caused the Japanese sushi knife to break was easily disassembled.
The huge bear's forelimbs drooped limply.
The sous chef standing beside him stared wide-eyed, still clutching the broken knife in his hand, his Adam's apple bobbing, but no sound came out.
Su Wei did not stop.
The hunting knife swung horizontally, severing the last few connecting ligaments.
The entire process was smooth and seamless, without any unnecessary movements or even touching a single bone.
Brown bears are different from cattle and sheep.
As Su Wei spoke, he completely separated the shoulder meat, which weighed several dozen kilograms, and casually tossed it onto the stainless steel cutting board.
The chunk of meat slammed onto the metal surface with a heavy, dull thud.
He didn't look up, his voice steady as if he were reading an instruction manual.
"They need to climb trees, dig roots in the permafrost, and even smash the elk's spine with their paws. This results in their shoulder muscle groups having extremely coarse fibers that are wrapped in multiple layers of dense fascia."
Su Wei used the tip of his knife to lift a layer of translucent white film.
"The conventional method of cutting meat in Western cuisine is to cut along the muscle fibers. But when dealing with this kind of ferocious beast, you have to go along the fascia. That is, structural cutting."
"If these fascia aren't completely removed, this piece of meat will taste like chewing a rubber tire when it enters a customer's mouth."
Laurent Laroche stood opposite the control panel.
His previously gloomy expression had completely vanished, replaced by an intense focus.
Those eyes, which had seen countless top-quality ingredients, were now fixed intently on Su Wei's technique.
As a chef who studied at Le Cordon Bleu Paris and worked his way up in the kitchens of Michelin three-star restaurant, he certainly understood the intricacies of the business.
Su Wei didn't use Cooking.
This is anatomy.
It is a violent aesthetic that can only be mastered by those who truly understand the physiological structure of this beast and have personally dismembered countless prey in the wilderness.
That rough yet extremely precise style is completely different from the refined French cuisine, yet they ultimately lead to the same goal.
"Also, I had already separated the bear's tenderloin beforehand."
Su Wei gestured to one of the apprentices, who quickly understood and walked towards the pickup truck.
A moment later, a meat bun wrapped in a waterproof tarpaulin was brought in.