The Chef From the Apocalypse Enters the Food Industry - Chapter 45

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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 45. The Siege Effect
My ambitious fence operation had failed.
Instead, I’d ended up giving those bastards wings in the form of special booth marketing.
After hearing the report, my mood had soured.
I was heading home, canceling my inspection of the festival grounds.
“Owner, there’s traffic ahead.”
“Why at this hour? The festival grounds are in the other direction.”
“I’m not sure. People are suddenly flooding in.”
At the driver’s words, Jang On-gyu squinted out the window.
The scenery beyond the glass was unfamiliar.
This was supposed to be a dead zone by my calculations.
The Former Food Truck Zone, excluded from the Main Festival Street and slated for redevelopment. Currently the Night Market Site.
The place that had been so gloomy with several streetlights burned out.
“…What is that?”
It was a city that never sleeps.
The Night Market, which should have been shrouded in darkness, blazed as bright as midday.
Music thundering with heavy beats.
The boisterous laughter of crowds.
Above all, the delicious aroma seeping even into the car.
Jang On-gyu’s eyes widened.
“Wasn’t that place originally a failure?”
“Yes, but… there are so many people there?”
“I can see that.”
As the car crawled forward, Jang On-gyu saw it clearly.
Three food trucks standing at the center of the crowd.
And a man performing a fire show on top of them, commanding the people’s attention.
Kim Seon-woo.
“Ha…!”
Was it him again?
A hollow laugh burst from Jang On-gyu’s lips.
He’d broken through what I’d blocked.
And now, not content with breaking through, he was replacing the entire board.
The land I’d abandoned, the commercial district I’d killed.
He’d gone there and was performing CPR right before my eyes.
“Insane bastard.”
“Sir?”
“Never mind.”
The curse had slipped out, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
Was it an illusion that the shabby, crude Night Market looked more vibrant than the Main Festival grounds I’d spent hundreds of millions creating?
No, it was no illusion.
People were enjoying themselves.
With expressions of genuine festival delight.
“The skill is impressive. Genuinely, ridiculously impressive.”
Jang On-gyu rolled up the window.
If I kept watching, I felt my stomach would turn inside out.
But Kim Seon-woo’s image wouldn’t fade from my mind.
Block him with a fence, and he’ll use the fence itself.
Drive him out, and he’ll rule from the place he’s been driven to.
‘That weed of a bastard.’
The more you trample him, the more stubbornly he springs back up.
Jang On-gyu sank deep into the seat back.
For some reason, it felt like sleep wouldn’t come tonight.
* * *
The black sedan disappeared into the darkness.
The moment Jang On-gyu left.
There was a man passing through the Night Market entrance with unsteady steps.
He was PD Ga, the entertainment division’s star personality.
“Ugh, I’m getting drunk. Really drunk.”
“Haha. But you got all the cuts you needed, didn’t you?”
“Heh. That’s exactly why I drank this much!”
The event shoot that had been ongoing for days had finally ended.
‘The footage came out ridiculously well. Anyway, that Jang Owner sure has a talent for capturing good shots. He would’ve done well in broadcasting. Wait, if he had, wouldn’t my meal ticket be cut off? Hehe.’
I was heading back to my lodging after the company dinner.
But something seemed odd.
“Huh? Why is it so noisy here?”
“Right?”
The Night Market, which should have been shrouded in darkness, was as bright as midday.
Along with the boom-boom of music, delicious aromas vibrated through the air.
As if entranced, I pushed through the crowd and somehow ended up receiving a skewer.
“This is on the house!”
What? Does this Night Market give out free skewers?
Did someone appear on broadcast?
If they said it was for broadcast, I wouldn’t be unable to understand.
Crunch.
The moment I took a bite without much expectation.
“…!!!”
PD Ga’s eyes flew wide open.
It was a taste that instantly sobered me up.
Succulent juices bursting within the crispy skin.
As the sauce coating my tongue fades, the charred flavor floods in completely.
I ate it, and saliva pooled in my mouth. My nostrils flared.
‘This is insane!’
This wasn’t street food level.
‘Who made this?’
He quickly lifted his head.
At the skewer truck, a man wielding a wok with brilliant flames shooting upward entered PD Ga’s field of vision.
In that moment, the entire space unfolded in PD Ga’s mind.
Kim Seon-woo conducting a massive crowd with a single dish, people drawn in by his momentum—he could see it all.
“…Wow.”
An exclamation burst from PD Ga’s lips.
The taste was one thing, but it was visual gold.
‘This is it. With just a little touch… or maybe it doesn’t even need touching?’
His instinct as a variety show PD wailed like a siren.
‘It’s visual gold. It has to be.’
PD Ga, still holding the half-eaten skewer, eyes gleamed like a predator that had spotted its prey.
“If we play this right, it could be entertaining…?”
A new idea was exploding in his mind.
* * *
Sunday that followed was nothing short of warfare.
‘He didn’t even take down the fence. Is it his last shred of pride?’
Lunch service sold out completely.
Evening service ran out of ingredients.
At night we moved to the Night Market for a second round.
Only after the relentless storm passed could we finally breathe heavily.
“Everyone head inside. I’ll handle the cleanup.”
“No way, hyung! Let’s do it together!”
“No. Go on. See you tomorrow.”
Jin-woo sent them away forcefully.
The kid was visibly exhausted.
‘Jin-woo must be struggling too. Even with how he looks, he’s managing his studies alongside this.’
After finishing the cleanup, the early morning air was cold.
My body felt heavy like water-logged cotton, but my mind was strangely sharp.
The exhilaration of surviving in the midst of battle.
We had overturned Jang On-gyu’s game and devoured his entire setup.
‘It was a perfect victory.’
After finishing the cleanup, only the remnants of the festival scattered across the street.
The brilliant lights were extinguished, and the bustling crowds had ebbed away like a receding tide.
The street had fallen silent.
Footsteps broke through that silence.
“Owner?”
It was Haran. I thought she had already left, but she was standing beneath a streetlight.
“You didn’t go home?”
“Well… I just didn’t want to leave yet.”
“You must be exhausted from working so hard all day with us.”
“I’m too hungry to sleep.”
She smiled sheepishly.
Truth be told, after conducting a day-long battle of commerce, none of us had managed a proper meal.
“Then shall we take a walk? We can grab something to eat.”
We walked together down the street the festival had swept through.
A few vendor stalls that hadn’t yet closed their shutters were scattered about.
Grilled chicken skewers, takoyaki, spiral-cut potatoes.
“I’ll take one of these.”
“And that one too.”
We each bought and ate the remaining festival food.
Chicken skewers that had gone cold, soggy fried potatoes.
By all rights, it should have tasted terrible.
But it was strange.
“It tastes good.”
“Right? It shouldn’t taste good, but it does.”
Haran smiled, sauce smudged at the corner of her mouth.
I remembered the hard bread fragments I once shared with her during the apocalypse.
Just as it had been then—where the fact of eating together mattered more than the taste itself.
We walked in silence, savoring the lingering afterglow of the festival.
Before I knew it, we had arrived in front of Haran’s house.
“Tomorrow’s our day off, so I’ll see you Monday.”
“Yes!”
“Get plenty of rest.”
“Of course!”
Watching her disappear inside, I chuckled and turned to head home.
Now it was time for me to go home.
For some reason, my nose felt itchy.
‘I’ll see her on Tuesday then.’
* * *
And the next day, Monday.
The store’s regular day off.
I should have slept in for once, but my eyes opened on their own.
The moment I woke, I headed to the store.
‘This is why habits are so terrifying.’
Even on a day off, I felt restless if I didn’t check on the ingredients.
The empty Factory Canteen.
The kitchen, which should have been shrouded in silence, echoed with a rhythmic sound.
“Huh?”
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound of a cutting board being struck. Who could it be?
Jin-woo should be sprawled out asleep somewhere.
I moved quietly toward the kitchen, dampening my footsteps.
Through the crack of the open door, I caught sight of a familiar silhouette.
‘Haran?’
She was the one I’d expected to see tomorrow on Tuesday.
Despite it being her day off, Haran had come in and was cutting something.
Her hands moved with considerable precision as she julienned white radish—no, beyond mere precision, there was an almost solemn intensity to her movements.
‘What kind of posture is that…’
I leaned against the doorframe and watched silently.
The grip on the knife, the angle of her shoulders, the way her eyes tracked the blade.
It resembled less a chef wielding a knife and more a swordmaster handling a blade. A memory from my past life flickered through my mind.
That person who once stood by my side, slaughtering monsters with a single sword.
In her silhouette, I could see that figure’s shadow overlapping.
‘Was she born a warrior after all?’
Perhaps cooking was her ideal, but ultimately her true talent lay in cutting things down.
“Sigh…”
After concentrating for a long while, Haran let out a short breath and set down her knife.
The sight of her wiping the sweat from her brow stirred both sympathy and admiration in me.
“Practicing even on your day off?”
“Eek!”
At my voice, Haran jumped and spun around.
Perhaps thinking she’d been caught.
Her face had turned as red as a radish.
“O-Owner! When did you arrive?”
“Just now. The sound of your knife work was so lively, I found myself drawn here like under a spell.”
“Ah! I’m so sorry. I used the kitchen without permission…”
“What’s there to apologize for? You’re staff here. And this isn’t some ramshackle kitchen like the old days, so don’t worry. Ha ha.”
“Still…”
“Don’t give it another thought. I’m only pleased when Haran practices this diligently and improves her skills.”
I smiled and approached, gazing at what lay on the cutting board.
Julienned radish.
‘An excellent choice. There’s no better ingredient for practicing knife technique.’
I examined the neatly cut radish strips.
The thickness was consistent, and the edges were clean.
She definitely had talent.
Whether it was talent for cooking or talent with the blade, I couldn’t quite say.
‘I bet the more I use the knife, the more enjoyable it becomes?’
It had been that way before, and the odds seemed high that it would be the same now.
“Do you enjoy working with knives?”
“Huh? Oh, yes. I really like the feeling when the blade touches the ingredients while cooking.”
“Would you like to learn it properly then?”
At my suggestion, Haran’s eyes widened in surprise.

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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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