The Chef From the Apocalypse Enters the Food Industry - Chapter 102

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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 102. Insanity
“If even one cut goes wrong, the entire structure collapses. I need to make hundreds of cuts at exactly the same depth. At that speed? If I fail?”
“It’s over, right?”
Lee Sae-rom interjected.
“Wait. So that hasn’t snapped even once?”
“Not once. If it snaps, it’s finished.”
Han Jae-won spoke.
“But normally you use flounder for fish, right?”
“That’s what makes it even stranger. Normally it’s done with mandarin fish—what we call sogi. But he’s using flounder instead. White flesh tears much more easily.”
Han Jae-won’s concentration deepened.
‘That’s pure technique.’
They say you only see what you know.
Because he had considerable knowledge of Chinese cuisine, he could see more than others.
Which is why he couldn’t help but be astonished.
Perhaps because the explanation was so clear.
The amazement around him grew as well.
“And yet it doesn’t snap?”
“That’s why it’s insane.”
Han Jae-won laughed in disbelief.
* * *
Ern Kim turned his head while trimming his ingredients.
I felt him looking in my direction.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
‘It is quite long.’
His gaze lingered for a while.
Then he returned to his cutting board.
But the hand holding his knife had changed.
It had become slightly faster.
He was aware of it.
‘Is he bothered? Well, of course he would be.’
Jeong Si-woo didn’t look this way.
He was focused solely on his ingredients.
Unwavering concentration.
‘That’s terrifying in its own way. This is fun.’
This is truly the final match, after all.
This is my final one too.
Swoosh.
Finally. The last cut had gone in.
A perfect crosshatch pattern was carved into the flounder flesh.
‘Done!’
Hundreds of knife cuts.
Not a single one had severed.
Between the slightly parted lattice, the white flesh of the flounder breathed.
‘Good. Phase one complete.’
The situation was progressing well.
* * *
Meanwhile, Ern Kim.
Sizzle—
Butter was melting in Ern Kim’s pan.
“Hmm…”
“It’s coming along well.”
“Yes.”
The knife slicing the truffle maintained a consistent thickness.
Like tissue paper.
The movements of a confident hand.
Countless years of culinary experience.
Conviction in that experience.
‘How did I become a Michelin two-star chef.’
Fine dining owner-chef.
The confidence that title carried seeped through his fingertips.
But he couldn’t help glancing over occasionally.
‘…’
After looking toward Seonwoo, his knife speed quickened.
Unconsciously observing, consciously aware.
Only he remained unaware of his own awareness.
He didn’t want to admit it.
That he was distracted.
“Focus.”
“Yes!”
* * *
“….”
Jeong Si-woo, however, was different.
At some point, as if awakened, he had devoted himself entirely to cooking.
‘Breathe. One breath at a time.’
He held sushi rice in his hands.
Five fingers wrapped it with precise pressure.
One grain at a time. Shape formed at his fingertips.
Quiet and precise. As if performing meditation itself.
“….”
“….”
He never once glanced at the monitors around him.
His assistant, who had followed him here, merely kept pace with him. Just like Jeong Si-woo had done before.
He was the type to cook only his own dishes until the very end.
Exactly as he’d said in the interview earlier.
That he would cook his own cuisine until the last moment.
That he would show it properly.
Both of them were formidable people.
Which made it all the more entertaining.
* * *
At some point, Im Ha-yun had uncrossed her arms.
She was so focused on what lay before her eyes that she paid no attention to her surroundings.
‘If he always did variations before… is he saying he’ll be thorough with the fundamentals of cooking this time?’
Knife work as an unexpected technique, no less.
She thought she’d seen plenty of Seonwoo’s cooking by now.
But watching cooking that focused on technique was a first for her.
As if to prove it wasn’t a mistake.
Tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tap.
Before her eyes, Seonwoo’s hands moved without pause, accompanied by precise rhythm.
‘…Remarkable.’
The knife cuts he had created.
He was filling something between those cuts.
‘What is he doing?’
It was a method she’d never seen before.
The Song Seo-gye fish that Han Jae-won had explained earlier.
He’d said the original dish was fried with the cuts left empty.
That nothing was supposed to be stuffed inside.
‘Then what is that?’
Was this where he applied his own method again?
The day she’d first tasted Seonwoo’s cooking came to mind.
‘He pushes technique to its absolute limit, then returns to his own essence… that’s the pattern, isn’t it?’
It had been the same back then.
A method she’d never seen before. A dish that existed nowhere else.
But when you ate it, it was extraordinary.
After that day, she’d started swallowing properly again.
Im Ha-yun unconsciously licked her lips.
‘You’re good, Kim Seon-woo.’
Her expression held a certain anticipation.
* * *
‘Now, the framework is complete.’
He began filling the stuffing between the knife cuts.
‘First, the finely minced shrimp meat.’
Pink flesh gathered at my fingertips.
‘Next, I capture both color and flavor simultaneously.’
Shiitake mushrooms and bamboo shoots, finely sliced.
Brown and white intermingled.
I tucked them into each grid opening.
With my fingertips. One by one.
Pushing them through the gaps in the lattice pattern.
‘I can’t overdo it.’
Too much or too little—neither would work.
Too much and it bursts when frying.
Too little and the flavor disappears.
‘With precision.’
I adjusted the portions through the sensitivity of my fingertips.
For reference, this has no recipe.
In fact, even with a recipe, it’s difficult to execute perfectly.
It’s a domain that only experience and intuition can master.
‘Cooking doesn’t emphasize experience for nothing.’
Besides, the original recipe for song-seo-gye-eo has a hollow interior.
You carve a checkerboard pattern and fry it as is.
The flesh opens up and becomes crispy—that’s all.
‘That’s tradition.’
But I fill those gaps.
What happens when I place filling ingredients between the cuts?
As the flesh opens during frying, the filling cooks along with it.
The fish’s oils seep into the filling.
The filling’s aroma rises into the fish meat.
Crispy outside. Moist inside.
I was constructing a dual-layered structure that brings two textures into a single bite.
‘But this can’t violate the fundamentals of song-seo-gye-eo.’
A delicate balance was essential.
But this method exists nowhere else.
Not in tradition, not in textbooks.
So I had to concentrate intensely.
“Phew….”
I barely managed it. To my own satisfaction.
Jin-woo, who had been watching me concentrate intently.
He finally asked cautiously.
“Hyung, what is this?”
“As you can see, it’s song-seo-gye-eo.”
“I learned from Haran too, but this is different, isn’t it?”
“Right.”
Jin-woo tilted his head.
“Then what about this? You put something inside it, didn’t you?”
“I’m making it, so.”
Jin-woo opened his mouth, then closed it.
And he chuckled.
“A new attempt.”
“A new dish in a competition, no less. You’re something else, hyung.”
“Enough. Prepare the sauce. Gochujang base with plum extract and….”
“Soy sauce?”
“….”
Jin-woo had already laid out the sauce ingredients in front of him.
Gochujang. Plum extract. Soy sauce. Minced garlic.
He had even measured everything out.
“…I haven’t even said yet?”
“I saw you grab the gochujang and plum extract from the ingredient station earlier. Soy sauce is always part of the set.”
Jin-woo chuckled.
“Well done.”
Before, he only did what I told him to do.
He never took a step ahead.
‘It’s different now. He’s changed.’
He started reading my next move by watching my movements.
He judges and acts first.
He’s growing within this competition too.
‘He’s developing. Definitely. And he seems to have confidence in himself now.’
I was pleased.
I felt proud that my eye for talent hadn’t failed me.
“The ratio is gochujang 2, soy sauce 1, plum extract 0.5, garlic half a spoon. Reduce over medium heat.”
“Yes!”
I grabbed the wok.
I turned up the heat and added oil.
The frying oil began to heat up gradually.
I checked the temperature.
180 degrees.
‘Not yet.’
I waited until the oil surface shimmered faintly.
Ripples formed across it.
Heat rose above the wok like a heat haze.
190 degrees.
‘Now!’
I picked up the flounder stuffed with filling.
I carefully placed it into the wok with both hands.
Sizzzzzzle!
Sizzle-!
Oil erupted and splattered everywhere.
Heat struck my face. The aroma of oil rose sharply.
‘What a wonderful smell.’
The flounder in the wok began to cook.
This felt like it was going perfectly.
The aroma proved it.
Then the knife cuts began to open.
One by one. One by one.
As the lattice gaps widened, the filling became visible.
The shrimp’s pink. The shiitake’s brown. The bamboo shoot’s white.
Three colors bloomed between the golden batter. The flesh opened like a pinecone.
‘I must be careful not to let it float. Gentle movements.’
One layer. Two layers.
Golden flowers were blossoming with the crackling sound above the oil.
-Look at that!!
-Wow…!
-Amazing… it’s art!
Sometimes, when you display extreme skill without explanation, people understand what they’re seeing.
Sonny’s eyes widened.
“That… did you just do that with what you inserted between the knife cuts?”
“It seems so.”
Ha-yun answered.
She crossed her arms again, but her eyes never left the monitor.
* * *
The flounder blooming in golden hues.
‘Perfect. I’ve preserved everything.’
Between the opened lattice gaps.
I could feel the colors of the filling coming alive.
Crispness and moisture coexisted within a single piece.
Now was the moment to remove it.
“Jin-woo! The sauce!”
“Coming!”
The moment I lifted the flounder and placed it on the plate, Jin-woo drizzled the sauce.
My hand touching the plate and the sauce falling were simultaneous.
Jin-woo had timed it by watching my hand.
‘The flavors harmonize even more beautifully.’
The gochujang sauce’s crimson sheen cascaded across the flounder.
The aroma rose—a blend of plum extract’s tartness and soy sauce’s profound depth.
Spicy yet not cloying.
Neither purely Chinese nor purely Korean.
A fusion of both.
Finally, I scattered julienned scallions and crimson chili peppers across the top.
Green and red adorned the golden surface.

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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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