I Regressed and Became Too Good at Brewing - Chapter 12

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 12. The Scammer (1)
“What is this…….”
‘Isn’t that what we call a scammer? I don’t like it one bit.’
Song Ha spoke while watching the people lined up in front of Songhadan’s main gate, his face deeply furrowed.
Mok-tong, who had been staying only in the Aging Warehouse until recently, had also come out and begun clicking his tongue while sipping liquor.
‘Tsk tsk, low-class ruffians crop up everywhere, don’t they? Pfft. Couldn’t unsee this. I’m leaving!’
With only those words, he vanished in a slow, deliberate fade.
The two goblins called them scammers, or ruffians—but the humans had a different name for them.
Protest groups, or Environmental Activists.
They claimed that Songhadan was damaging Yeongwol’s natural landscape, or that the substances we discharged were harming the environment.
“What on earth is going on here?”
“But is it even legal to proceed like this?”
The commotion outside brought everyone from Songhadan’s staff to the gate.
Even as they gathered, the protesters’ chants showed no sign of stopping.
“Destroy nature for alcohol! What kind of reckless government action is this!”
“How can you ignore residents’ opinions with such hasty policy!”
Yet nothing they chanted made any sense.
What was wrong with making liquor?
Moreover, Songhadan was a place my grandfather had established and held for many long years.
How could we be ignoring residents’ opinions?
But those were my thoughts.
What had already happened needed to be resolved.
“How much of today’s scheduled delivery has already arrived?”
“Hmm… the orders for Jujudaily and the bars, mostly.”
“We can’t leave it like this.”
Time had passed quite considerably, but Meari’s standing at Jujudaily remained unchanged.
If anything, it had only grown stronger.
Consumers kept asking for increased stock—so much so that they called regularly each time.
In these circumstances, delaying delivery would be nothing short of breaking our promise to customers.
“Wouldn’t it be best to report this to the police first?”
“We already did. Sigh. I can’t tell what’s happening anymore…….”
“I have a rough idea.”
“What? How?”
Se-jun, who had been sighing heavily, lifted his head sharply at my words.
It was understandable for him to be puzzled.
These people had descended upon us without warning, completely unexpectedly.
Yet I, who had done nothing but work alongside him all this time, seemed to know the truth of the matter.
But I couldn’t help knowing.
Because something like this had happened in my previous life.
“Once the police arrive, I’ll go out and talk to them.”
“Boss! That’s dangerous!”
“It’s not dangerous. Really. I’ll record video as a safeguard while I talk.”
That was right—there was nothing dangerous about it.
There was only one thing they wanted.
Though that didn’t mean I was going to give it to them.
Not long after I’d been watching the situation from inside.
A small siren sounded, and a police car approached from that direction.
Or more accurately, attempted to approach.
The protesters’ fervor ran hot, and there wasn’t much room to bring a large contingent of police cars to this remote mountain area.
“Now, now! Police here! Everyone calm down and follow our instructions!”
“Look here! We’re conducting a peaceful protest!”
“You’re trying to suppress us with state force!”
“No… ugh… honestly…….”
The two police officers let out a long sigh.
Now was the moment.
I stepped outside the main gate with Se-jun, who had brought the camera.
The moment I appeared, their gazes snapped toward me.
The man standing in the front row spoke first.
“Are you the person in charge here? The owner?”
“Yes. I’m Song Yeon-woo, the owner of Songhadan. What brings you here?”
“What do you mean, what’s going on? You’re making such a racket I couldn’t possibly have missed it, could I? So you’re the one who called the police?”
The man didn’t bother drawing out the conversation—he just started shouting.
Emboldened by his outburst, the others behind him joined in with their own roaring voices, waving their placards wildly.
Se-jun looked like he wanted to shout back, but he kept his jaw clenched, swallowing his words.
I wanted to tell him not to worry, but I held my tongue too.
In the end, this was about claims, not facts.
“Yes, I heard. You’re saying we’re destroying the environment?”
“Exactly! How pristine is the water in Yeongwol? A factory like this? Don’t you know Yeongwol is a restricted industrial zone? Opening a distillery out of nowhere—there’s definitely some connection going on!”
“What is it you want?”
“Damage compensation! You need to compensate the residents!”
The man bellowed it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Yes. It had been exactly the same in my previous life.
Once word got out and things started looking promising, people like this began to show up.
They wore the mask of environmental activist groups devoted to protecting the region.
It wasn’t that the regional citizens’ groups were a fiction.
It was their love of the environment that was the lie.
What they wanted was money.
“Songhadan has been operated since my grandfather’s time. All of our wastewater and byproducts are processed in full compliance with regulations.”
“Does meeting regulations erase the residents’ suffering? Huh? Huh! You think a few words are going to settle this?”
I hadn’t come intending to resolve things through dialogue either.
Actually, I had tried that once before.
I’d believed what they were saying was genuine back then.
That’s why I’d given them money under the guise of damage compensation.
But that was a mistake.
Once they’d spotted a mark, they kept coming back, demanding more and more money from us.
So this time would be different.
“If you continue any further, we’ll have no choice but to take measures for safety reasons.”
“You really are—! Hey! You’re actually the boss here, right? Huh?”
The man pointed an accusatory finger, raising his voice higher.
Meanwhile, the two officers slipped through the crowd, positioned themselves in front of us, and blocked the protest group from advancing.
“Look here now, why is everyone doing this? You all know this is an illegal demonstration, don’t you? If you keep this up, it only makes trouble for everyone.”
“The police are oppressing us! You think this will end us? Huh? We’ll come back every single day! Just try us!”
“No, well… sigh… You there, why don’t you call for backup? We can’t handle this with just the two of us. And you, boss—you should head inside for now. It’s dangerous.”
“Understood.”
With the officers’ help, I stepped back into the Distillery and let out a long breath.
I’d known this would happen, but actually facing it still took its toll.
Se-jun looked the same—his face flushed red, chest heaving with indignation.
I reached over and tapped his shoulder lightly. “Se-jun. You got it on camera, right?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Those bastards… yeah, I got it. Ugh. Doesn’t look like they’re worth a punch.”
I pulled out the camera and confirmed—the footage was crystal clear, both picture and sound.
At least we had one safeguard in place now.
“Should we head in and have a meeting about this?”
“Yeah, let’s do that. Man, this really gets my blood boiling.”
“I think you’re not the only one feeling that way, boss.”
Se-jun was naturally furious.
And me?
It would be a lie to say I wasn’t angry.
“Their intent is clear.”
“Yeah, I see it too. They’re trying to shake us down for money.”
“Exactly. If they really cared about the environment, they would’ve tried to persuade us first. They should have sent a complaint email before resorting to this. And even if they had staged a protest, there’s no way they’d bring up damage compensation right out of the gate.”
I’d actually encountered genuine environmental protesters in my previous life.
People who truly worried about the environment.
Those ones were reasonable—we could actually talk to them.
Without any intent to squeeze us financially, we’d reached mutual agreement and settled things cleanly.
“So what do we do?”
“Hmm. We have options. Se-jun, is our YouTube channel ready to launch?”
“Yeah. Ha-jeong got everything set up. We just need to upload the videos.”
Songhadan’s YouTube channel—something we’d been preparing for since we released Meari and overhauled the website.
That project had stalled badly because of Se-jun’s and my catastrophic sense of aesthetics, but once Ha-jeong came on board, it had been finished in no time flat.

Of course, originally it had been meant to promote Songhadan’s scenery along with the distillery’s products, but now there was no help for it.
“Ha-jeong, could you quickly edit that video we just shot and upload it? And Se-jun—put a notice on our homepage that deliveries might be difficult for a while.”
“What? But the deliveries…”
“Might be difficult—not definitely impossible. I’ll reach out personally to Jujudaily and our other accounts.”
“Then what should I do? The upload won’t take long.”
Unlike Se-jun, who immediately set to work the moment I spoke, Ha-jeong stood there watching me blankly, waiting for her answer.
She had work too.
“Ha-jeong, I’d like you to shoot an additional video—showing how Songhadan operates.”
“Should I film you working, then? Understood.”
“And… actually, this is something we’d planned for later…”
“Yes? What do you mean?”
She tilted her head, waiting for me to continue.
I smiled slightly as I answered her.
“I’m thinking of inviting some special guests to Songhadan.”
* * *
“Mm… it’s good anytime you drink it.”
Sitting in his office, Ju-ho poured himself a glass of Meari.
Though fine spirits lined his shelves in abundance, these days his hand reached for nothing but Meari.
Still, it wouldn’t do to drink while working, so he’d taken to stealing a glass here and there when no one was looking.
The clear liquor released the subtle fragrance of mountain air that gently perfumed his nose.
“Ah. This is it.”
Just as he was about to bring the glass to his lips, his phone began to ring.
Tring-tring-tring.
“Tsk. Interrupted now, of all times… Who on earth…? Mm? Songhadan?”
The number on the screen was Song Yeon-woo’s—the president of Songhadan.
So he couldn’t help but be surprised.
Song Yeon-woo rarely called him like this.
He always made deliveries on time, and the quality of the liquor never faltered, so there’d been no reason to call.
“Hmm. Could it be… he’s found a way to increase the order volume?”
He couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope.
With his heart racing, Ju-ho set down his glass and answered the call.
“Ha-ha-ha! President Song! What brings this on?”
But that was only wishful thinking.
As the call went on, Ju-ho’s expression began to contort.
Soon enough, his jaw clenched and a low anger seeped through.
“I see… these bastards… phew… I’ll cooperate, of course. Don’t worry about it. We’ll align our stories from this end too. The deliveries stay the same? Ha-ha, come on now. That’s fine. This is the kind of thing you have to stomp out from the start.”
After the brief call ended, Ju-ho set down his phone and exhaled heavily.
Irritation twitched at the corners of his eyes.
“That’s why this business is so rotten.”
“Director! May I come in?”
“Ah, yes. Come in.”
A Jujudaily employee rushed in with a knock, moving so urgently that his glasses sat crooked on his face.
He spoke breathlessly.
“It’s urgent! The Songhadan homepage…”
“Ah, I know. I’ve already checked.”
“You… you have?”
Of course not.
I’d just received the situation secondhand from Song Yeon-woo on the phone.
With the employee standing before him, Ju-ho pulled up the Songhadan homepage, and there it was—a banner announcing:
There, it read:
[URGENT: Apology Notice Regarding Delivery Delays]
We regret to inform you that all Meari shipments previously scheduled may be delayed indefinitely due to ongoing protests at Songhadan’s premises.
Songhadan is committed to preserving the flavor and aroma our customers have come to expect, and we will do everything in our power to normalize operations as quickly as possible.
“It’s indefinite, sir. We barely have any stock left ourselves…”
“Then issue a notice.”
“Sir?”
“What else can we do? We can’t exactly beat down a ‘peaceful’ protest.”
Ju-ho tapped his fingers on the desk as he continued.
“Cancel all pending orders and post an apology notice. Call the customers personally. And while we’re at it, include a link to Songhadan’s homepage in the apology notice.”
“Y-yes, understood.”
“You can go now.”
The employee bowed sharply and hurried out the door.
After letting out another sigh, Ju-ho reached for the glass, then set it back down.
“Mm… so you’re saying I really might not be able to drink this for a while…”
It was too precious to waste.
He bit his lip hard, swallowed his greed, and turned over the plan Song Yeon-woo had laid out for him.
“He really does know how to act with finesse…”
If Song Yeon-woo hadn’t been running a distillery, Ju-ho would’ve wanted to scout him as talent—the man was that impressive.
“Well then, I’d better do my best to help.”
That day, an apology was posted on Jujudaily.
All orders for Meari would be fully refunded.
The notice also stated that Meari would be impossible to sell for the foreseeable future, and it included a link to Songhadan’s apology statement.
“What? A protest?”
“Wait, what’s even the problem here?”
“I’ve been waiting a whole week for this!”
That the people who’d been counting down the days for Meari would flip out was as predictable as fire spreading.
“I’m sorry—Meari is out?”
“Oh, you didn’t know? There’s a protest group outside Songhadan every day, so delivery’s become really difficult.”
“I’m sorry—what kind of protest?”
“I think they said something about environmental activists…”
The rumors spread.
People’s curiosity swelled to a breaking point.
What kind of protest could possibly make delivery so difficult?
And at that moment, a new video was uploaded to YouTube.
[Songhadan: We sincerely apologize. We would like to show you the current situation at Songhadan.]
It was kindling that would transform curiosity into outrage.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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