Chapter 20
Today, Hunter Hong Mangi had stepped away for a while.
More precisely, it was right before the dinner rush.
He had said to me,
“Jaemin! I need you and Poming to handle dinner tonight. You don’t have to do anything fancy. Poming will take care of most of it anyway, so you just need to help her out. Think you can handle it? If not, just close the food stall for a while.”
“Where are you going?”
“The Association called me in for an emergency. I don’t know why, so I guess I’ll find out once I get there.”
“Come on! It sounds important, so of course I should handle things here. How hard could it be?”
“That’s a relief. I knew I could count on you! Then I’ll leave it to you.”
After leaving me with those words, he turned around as casually as ever.
His expression was completely calm.
His voice was as quiet as usual.
“Come on, it’s only one day. And just for a little while at that.”
I had replied with a laugh.
Deep down, I was even a little excited.
The thought that I would be filling the space he normally occupied.
“Poming, I’m the chef today.”
I said it as a joke.
“Wow~ Chef Jaemin? Then I’m Assistant Chef Poming?!”
Poming raised both arms with a delighted expression and spun around in midair.
“When an order comes in, I’ll shout it out! ‘One order coming up!’ ‘Irasshaimase!’ Stuff like that!”
“Sounds good. I’m counting on you, Poming.”
And just like that, my one-man stint as the chef(?) began.
At first, everything was fine.
There were fewer customers than usual, and the first customer was someone who had heard about the place from Hunter Hong Mangi.
An F-rank Hunter named Mr. Kim.
“Do you still have that Tin Bludder Hudugeun steak from last time?”
“I’m sorry. We’re out of the ingredients for that today. Would you like beef sirloin with the same sauce instead?”
“Huh-huh. Anything’s fine with me. But where did Hong Mangi go? I don’t see him around.”
“He had some business to take care of at the Association.”
“Really? Okay, then give me a bottle of soju!”
Fortunately, the meat cooked well.
Poming personally sliced the garlic and grilled the onions too.
Though, rather than me doing anything special, I was basically just acting as Poming’s hands.
“Perfect!!”
“Right? Maybe I’ve actually got some talent for this kind of thing.”
I confidently served the plate.
But then—
“Excuse me! This isn’t cooked through.”
“What?”
Mr. Kim cut into the meat with his fork and showed me the wet, red center.
“The outside looks good, but the inside’s still raw. Jeez, if you were going to serve it like this, you might as well have given me yukhoe.”
“Ah, yes. I’m sorry. I’ll cook it again.”
Mr. Kim burst into a hearty laugh.
He was clearly joking, but I still felt guilty and could only fidget nervously.
The second customer who came in afterward was so drunk he looked like he had been drugged.
“Heeey, this food stall, you know? I’ve walked past it loads of times, but this is my first time actually coming in. What’ve you got? Don’t tell me monsters show up here too? Hahahahaha!”
Spit flew from his mouth every time he spoke.
Poming stiffened up and began circling near the ceiling.
“Chef, that man is scary… I heard lots of drunk Hunters cause trouble….”
“It’s okay. He doesn’t seem to be a Hunter in the first place. He’s probably just an ordinary guy who drank too much. If anything happens, I’ll handle it.”
“Then Poming will… stay in the back… sniff….”
I sent Poming behind the kitchen.
But in the end, the customer spilled an entire bottle of soju onto the griddle.
All I could do was stand there holding my soaked apron and sigh.
While wiping away what felt like a handful of sweat, the third customer arrived.
The moment he entered, the first name he asked for was Hong Mangi.
“Excuse me. Is Hong Mangi here by any chance?”
“He’s stepped out for a while. Was there something you needed from him?”
“Ah… I saw people talking about this place in the community. They said Hunter Hong Mangi runs it and that the food here is incredible, so I came to check it out.”
“H-He’s not here right now, but… would you like something to eat?”
“Hmm, really? Can’t be helped, then. Could I get some fish cake soup?”
“Doenjang soup… doenjang soup….”
I immediately called for Poming.
“Poming! Where’s the doenjang?!”
And then—
“Huh? He said fish cake soup, not doenjang soup.”
“Ah! Ahhh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Instead of shouting irasshaimase, I ended up repeating sumimasen over and over.
I had no choice but to break out in a bucketful of cold sweat.
That night, I had no choice but to quietly close the stall.
Two whole hours earlier than our usual closing time.
I collapsed onto a chair behind the tent.
Poming quietly circled around beside me.
“Are you okay?”
“No. Today was a complete disaster.”
I said it with a laugh.
The food stall had fallen silent.
“So Hong Mangi does this every day like it’s nothing?”
I muttered almost to myself.
Poming quietly landed on my shoulder.
“Today was unusually busy, but even considering that, our chef really is amazing. Poming already knew that. That’s why Poming always tries extra hard to serve him faithfully.”
I lowered my head.
“I thought I could handle it on my own as long as I had you, but I guess I was wrong. It wasn’t just about running things by making good use of a summoned creature. This is way tougher than I thought, and the chef and owner really play a huge role. Hunter Hong Mangi is amazing….”
The quiet night breeze slipped through between my self-deprecating murmurs.
Phew.
Only then did I realize it.
Just how enormous his absence felt in this place.
And perhaps…
It might be the same in my life as well.
At that moment—
“I’m back.”
A familiar voice.
Shoes covered in dirt.
A calm gaze.
It was Hong Mangi.
I immediately jumped to my feet.
“C-Chef! Ah, no. Hunter Mangi!”
“Did something happen? You look completely exhausted.”
For a while, I couldn’t get any words out.
Then I smiled.
“No. Nothing happened.”
From behind me, Poming whispered,
“A lot happened. A whole looooot!”
It was a day that made me realize just how much I still had to learn.
The next morning.
The dew had yet to dry on the food stall’s tent.
The yellow morning sunlight shone through the canvas.
Underneath it, I was organizing the ingredients.
The reason I had come in early today was partly because I hadn’t done the best job cleaning up yesterday.
And since I had been away, I needed to make up for anything that had been left unfinished.
I took out the cutting board.
Just as I was about to start using the knife, I suddenly stopped.
Poming popped out with a boing and said,
“Chef! You know… yesterday was kind of… rough.”
“Huh? Why? What happened? What do you mean?”
“Kang Jaemin worked really, really hard. But… I think doing everything alone was still a little difficult for him. He got really flustered, and when someone ordered fish cake soup, he tried to make doenjang soup instead… Then the meat was undercooked too… Whew… And one of your fans even came by, but he made a mistake with them too.”
“A fan?”
“Yes! The person who ordered fish cake soup. He was your fan. He kept asking for you, and when we said you weren’t here, he just ordered some fish cake soup instead. But Jaemin tried to make doenjang soup! Poming really didn’t say anything. I just watched. I thought maybe he was nervous because it was his first time… but he was seriously trembling all over!”
I slowly nodded.
I remembered the traces of last night that I had caught a glimpse of beyond the tent.
The cooking utensils left in disarray.
A basket of garlic that had only been half used.
And empty plates left lying around by themselves.
“I should call him.”
“Huh?”
“Kang Jaemin. I should call him over right now. I was planning to try making a new dish today anyway. I should teach him a few things and help him adjust a little more.”
Only then did Poming smile.
“A new dish! How about rolled omelet? Poming thinks rolled omelet would be perfect!”
“Rolled omelet?”
“Do you know that rolled omelet is actually harder to make than it looks? A chef who can make a good rolled omelet is a real chef!”
“Hmm. All right. Now you’ve awakened my competitive spirit.”
After calling Kang Jaemin,
about ten minutes passed.
Kang Jaemin entered the food stall tent wearing an orange tracksuit top, sweat beading across his forehead.
He was breathing heavily.
“I’m here.”
I smiled when I saw him.
“There you are. Come in!”
“Are we opening for business in broad daylight today?”
“Yeah—no. I called you because I wanted to help.”
Kang Jaemin flinched.
“Ah, me? Poming told you, didn’t she? About how badly I messed things up.”
“Even if she hadn’t told me, I would’ve known. All I had to do was look at the pan you cooked the meat in yesterday.”
“…I’m sorry.”
I hurriedly waved my hands.
“Sorry? What are you apologizing for? I called you here because I want to teach you.”
“…Really?”
“Yeah. You’re my partner. Of course I’m going to teach you. First things first! Cooking starts with knife skills. And with that in mind….”
Kang Jaemin looked eagerly at the knife.
“All right. Crack an egg.”
“An… egg? What about the knife skills?”
“Forget the knife!”
“Ah… ahhh….”
“If you can’t crack an egg, you can’t crack open someone’s heart either. I’m not exactly an experienced chef myself, but that’s how I see it. Cooking is ultimately about opening someone’s heart. And gradually becoming a part of it. Okay? Three eggs. Don’t splash the whites everywhere.”
Kang Jaemin awkwardly picked up an egg.
“This is… pretty hard.”
Tap!
The shell split sideways.
The egg white and yolk spilled all over the cutting board.
“W-Whoa!”
Poming stretched both hands out from the air, but it was already too late.
I shook my head and took out another bowl.
“Not there. Do it over this. Lightly tap the shell against the bowl until it cracks. Then pull the two sides apart. Don’t use too much force. Just use your fingertips.”
On his second attempt, Kang Jaemin barely managed to get the yolk into the bowl.
On the third, he successfully made a small crack using only his fingertips.
“You’re doing well.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You’re doing fine. All right! Next, let’s practice chopping.”
I placed a green onion on the cutting board.
It was just a green onion.
Something you could roughly chop without thinking too much about it.
But I quietly said,
“I think using a knife is less about cutting and more about understanding. You read the grain of the ingredient, split through its center, and your fingers are only there as guides, like feelers showing the way.”
Tak, tak, tak.
The tip of my knife moved across the cutting board.
The rhythm of my hands was clearer than the sound itself.
Kang Jaemin silently watched with complete focus.
There was something different in his gaze now.
“It feels less like a technique and more like instinct.”
“At first, it was technique. But after repeating it every day, it seeped into my instincts.”
I wiped down the cutting board.
Then I quietly began preparing doenjang soup.
I placed the kelp in the pot, diced the radish, and poured in water.
While my hands continued moving busily, Kang Jaemin silently remained beside me.
“Wow… Actually, there’s something I’ve been wondering about.”
“What is it?”
“Cooking. When did you get this good at it? It’s not like you went to culinary school, and you’ve probably spent your whole life working as a Hunter. This clearly isn’t just hobby-level cooking.”
I held the ladle and quietly answered.
“Hmm… All right. I suppose you’re someone I should tell.”
“Really? Yes! I want to hear it.”
“You’ve been wondering why I run this restaurant, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
The soup bubbled steadily.
It was a quiet moment just before I added the doenjang.
“The truth is… I can see dead people.”
At that moment, Kang Jaemin’s eyes trembled.
“What?”
“Ghosts. Dead Hunters. They come to me. They talk to me and tell me about the grudges and regrets they left behind.”
Kang Jaemin tilted his head as if he couldn’t understand what I had just told him.
Then he stared at me for a long time.
