Chapter 21
“Those people come to me.”
Hong Mangi’s quiet, calm voice carried a strangely deep and complicated weight.
As the soybean paste soup began to boil, steam rose from the pot.
Its rich aroma spread through the air, almost blending into Hong Mangi’s voice.
“At first, I was scared. No… more than being scared, I thought I was seeing things.”
Maybe it was because he sounded far too serious for this to be a joke.
Kang Jaemin, who had been listening quietly, said nothing.
Hong Mangi continued.
“Do you know what the first Hunter’s soul I met said to me?”
Hong Mangi closed his eyes.
“He apologized. He left me a dagger and said that thanks to me, he could go to the afterlife without any regrets. He said he’d lived selfishly, caring only about himself, but at least before leaving, he got the chance to reflect on that. He said he was glad it wasn’t too late.”
“Who was it?”
“Sama Cheon.”
Kang Jaemin’s eyes shook.
Almost no Hunter would fail to recognize that name.
Until the day he died, Sama Cheon had stubbornly remained active among the upper ranks of B-rank Hunters.
He was also infamous for being vicious and selfish.
He looked down on others and treated people like disposable luggage.
“That Sama Cheon apologized to you, Chef?”
“Yeah. Strange, isn’t it? When he was alive, he wouldn’t even spare someone like me a glance. But after he died, he ate my food, cried, and reflected on his life.”
“Someone like that changing….”
“Maybe it was because of the ability I was given. But I guess people become more honest after they die.”
Hong Mangi slowly stirred the soybean paste into the soup.
As it dissolved evenly, the broth took on a warm color and grew richer.
“That’s when I started doing what I do now. The souls of dead Hunters kept coming to me, and I started giving them meals.”
“Meals?”
“Yeah. Meals they never got to eat while they were alive. A proper meal. Something meaningful. Something that lets them feel human again. That’s what I started making.”
“Then what happens afterward? It’s not like they get sentenced to some kind of punishment, right?”
“Are you asking about the reward?”
“Exactly!”
“Hmm. I end up gaining the abilities they had.”
“Oh….”
“Interesting, right? It’s an ability I got after obtaining Poming. You could also call it a quest.”
Hong Mangi went back to cooking.
Kang Jaemin watched his hands.
I figured he wasn’t just some ordinary guy running a food stall… but I never imagined something like this.
He swallowed and asked,
“Then… do ghosts still come to you now, Chef?”
“Sometimes. They’ll probably keep coming in the future. Hunters will continue dying in dungeons, after all. It’s unfortunate, but….”
Kang Jaemin shivered slightly, as if goosebumps had risen across his skin.
“Then are you going to keep accepting those dead people whenever they come?”
Hong Mangi didn’t answer immediately.
He quietly ladled the soybean paste soup into two small bowls.
One was placed in front of Kang Jaemin.
The other was placed in front of himself.
“I don’t know if I can promise that forever. But at the very least, I want the souls that appear before me to leave with fewer regrets. I want to fulfill their wishes too, if I can.”
“…Why? Ah! You said you inherit those Hunters’ abilities. So your goal is to become the strongest Hunter, right?”
“Not really.”
Hong Mangi gave a small smile.
“It’s because this is a way someone like me—a completely average Hunter… no, someone below average—can still be useful to someone.”
Kang Jaemin pressed his lips together, unable to respond.
He was a B-rank Hunter.
He wasn’t some overwhelming genius, but he was at least strong enough that no one could easily dismiss him.
Hong Mangi, on the other hand, had remained F-rank for a long time.
He had only recently managed to become a D-rank Hunter.
According to what he had just explained, Hong Mangi now possessed an ability that could potentially let him become one of the greatest Hunters alive.
Yet his real goal wasn’t success.
It was comfort.
What did something like that even give him?
What kind of enormous reward was there in comforting the dead?
“That’s amazing….”
“Thanks for saying that. But you can do it too.”
“Me?”
“You’re helping me, aren’t you? And I’ll help you. That means we’re doing it together.”
“I guess… that means I can do something good too.”
“Everything you couldn’t do yesterday, and everything I can teach you today, is part of the same thing. We make up for what the other person lacks. That’s how it works.”
Poming spun happily in circles.
“Doesn’t the soup smell even richer today?!”
Hong Mangi laughed at her words.
“Probably. There’s sincerity in it today.”
Poming tilted her head.
“Sincerity?”
“Yeah. Food made by people, for people. That kind of cooking.”
Then Hong Mangi suddenly remembered something.
“Oh, right! What about the rolled omelet?”
Poming immediately shouted as if she had finally been given her moment.
“All right, all right! Then it’s time for Poming’s Super-Cute Rolled Omelet Class~!”
Poming spun around in midair as she announced it.
She waved both arms as though she were wearing a tiny apron.
Her eyes sparkled brightly.
At that moment—
“Huh? Rolled omelet? Oh, so that’s why you told us to get eggs first. I’ve made rolled omelets before too… Don’t you just pour eggs into the frying pan and roll them up?”
Kang Jaemin rolled up his sleeves confidently.
Poming narrowed her eyes in midair.
Then the corners of her tiny mouth curled upward.
“Pfft.”
“…Pfft?”
“Kang Jaemin-nim, rolled omelets need to be rolled with your heart if you want them to taste good~!”
“What does that even mean…?”
“You’ll understand soon enough. First, the ingredients!”
Poming made several sharp tap, tap, tap sounds, as though a judge were striking a gavel.
Then she declared confidently,
“The basic ingredients for Poming’s rolled omelet! Three eggs! Three centimeters of green onion! A little carrot! A little onion! One pinch-ish amount of salt! One spoonful of water! A little cooking oil! Everything ready?”
“Yeah. We have all of that.”
“Cheese, ham, or kimchi would also be good as optional ingredients!”
