The Chef From the Apocalypse Enters the Food Industry - Chapter 59

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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 59. Visitors (1)
Their waste separation bordered on obsessive-compulsive disorder.
Even food scraps were meticulously sorted.
‘Are these people insane?’
The kitchen, photographed through the gaps with a lens, was even more striking.
The hood was pristine white.
They’d done closing cleaning, but it was clear they’d disassembled and scrubbed the inside of the hood itself.
Not a trace of grease was visible.
Everything gleamed like it was brand new.
‘Ingredients? With turnover this fast, inventory management should be a mess.’
No. Just looking at what’s visible tells me everything.
It’s all new stock.
Rotting vegetables, expired sauce?
Not a shadow of it.
If anything, the potted plants visible in the lens were the real spectacle.
‘What kind of restaurant grows green onions and lettuce? Wait, if they’re growing them where customers come and go, the hygiene would be….’
I wondered if the potted plants would be a liability.
But they were positioned so they never overlapped with customer traffic patterns.
Looking closer, most of them were hydroponic systems. Far more sanitary than soil cultivation.
‘…Huh.’
At this point, there was nothing left but admiration.
“…Is this guy insane? Does he have obsessive cleanliness disorder?”
The man lowered his camera with a hollow laugh.
He tried to find dust, but the more he looked, the more shine he saw.
There simply were no weaknesses.
He anxiously gnawed at his fingernails.
“If it’s like this… there’s only one way. Can’t be helped.”
He lingered for a while, then withdrew with resolve.
* * *
“Boss! I think I’m getting pretty good at julienning radishes now. Can I try cutting something else?”
Jin-woo held up his knife with an excited expression.
His eyes already sparkled like those of a chef.
The blade’s tip pointed toward the meat in the refrigerator.
But I took the knife from his hands.
“Not yet.”
In truth, Jin-woo’s skills were improving quite rapidly.
In just a short time since starting his training, he was cutting radish julienne with ease. Seeing him produce the exact shapes, lengths, and perfectly uniform thickness he aimed for, he had every right to be confident.
‘His natural talent is bigger than I expected.’
This was precisely when I needed to make him return to fundamentals.
Something even more fundamental than knife technique.
For him, I placed a scouring pad and bleach bottle into the hand that had just released the knife.
“Huh? Brother? Why this…?”
“Cooking isn’t done with a knife.”
“Pardon? Then what do we use?”
“This. Right here.”
I waved the hand holding the scouring pad to show him.
Jin-woo stared at his own hands with a bewildered expression.
His eyes screamed confusion—he’d asked to learn cooking, so why cleaning?
“But I clean every day already. In the morning too. And after closing today.”
“Exactly.”
“You even come in on your days off to do it, don’t you?”
“That’s obvious too.”
“So why again?”
I hardened my expression and fixed him with a steady gaze.
“Jin-woo. When the apocalypse comes—when the world collapses—do you know what kills the most people?”
“Well… if it’s an apocalypse… wouldn’t it be disasters and catastrophes like that?”
“No. You’re wrong.”
I shook my head firmly.
“Disease. Food poisoning, typhoid, dysentery. Most people die from eating filthy things and being touched by dirty hands.”
“Really… to that extent?”
“Yes. To that extent. The things we take for granted now—those won’t be guaranteed then. That’s why people die. Easier than you’d think.”
Yes. They die far too easily.
Memories from my past life flashed through me.
More terrifying than a monster’s claws were invisible bacteria.
In a world without antibiotics, diarrhea meant dehydration, and dehydration meant death.
For me, hygiene wasn’t a matter of cleanliness.
It was a matter of survival.
“Every dish that leaves my kitchen must be food that saves lives. But if the kitchen is filthy? That’s not serving food—that’s selling poison.”
“P-poison?”
“Yes. Invisible poison. I truly believe that.”
I led him over to the gas range hood.
In most restaurants, this is where grease cakes on thick.
Oil vapors inevitably spread throughout cooking.
It’s also where people make excuses, claiming it’s unavoidable.
But I pulled out the hood filter and thrust it right in front of his face.
“Touch it.”
“…Huh? It’s not sticky at all?”
“Right. It should squeak like this. Because I clean it every day.”
Jin-woo’s eyes widened.
I led him around the kitchen, pointing out every corner.
The rubber gasket on the refrigerator handle.
The strainer in the sink drain.
The grout lines between the floor tiles.
Not a single spot showed water stains or mold.
“You know this because you see it every day, right?”
“Yes. You clean with obsessive persistence.”
“That’s right. Flavor can be created through technique. But hygiene is devotion, conscience, and life itself.”
I tapped Jin-woo’s chest with the scrubbing sponge.
“Your knife work is excellent. Your cooking fundamentals are solid. But I see now—those come later. If you want to stand in my kitchen, start by cleaning what’s invisible to the eye. Don’t tolerate a single speck of dust or water stain.”
I decided I had to teach him this first.
If I didn’t teach him now, he’d develop bad habits.
I swallowed back those words for now.
If I went into a second verse, it would just become nagging.
“….”
Fortunately, Jin-woo was the right kind of person.
Jin-woo swallowed hard.
This wasn’t merely the grumbling of some stubborn old boss.
He felt my sincerity too.
My philosophy toward cooking. He seemed to grasp its weight.
“I’ll remember this. Sincerely.”
Jin-woo’s eyes changed.
He pulled on his rubber gloves with an expression even more resolute than when he’d set down his knife.
“You’re right. I was about to start cooking without even knowing the basics.”
He moved with spirited determination.
Soon after, the sounds of vigorous scrubbing and water cleaning echoed loudly from outside.
He was scrubbing the food waste bin with bleach, erasing every stain on the floor with fierce intensity.
‘Yes. That’s how it should be.’
I’d taught him something important today.
* * *
Im Ha-yun’s Personal Studio Waiting Room.
Across from her, PD Ga from the KBN Entertainment Department sat at an awkward angle on the sofa.
“Ha-yun, this is a project designed specifically for you.”
“PD, I’m so sorry about this.”
“Why? Are you going on another broadcast?”
“No, PD. Like I mentioned before, I’ll definitely keep my promise to go on the next broadcast with you.”
“Then that settles it. Just do this broadcast, right?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m taking a break from broadcasting for a while.”
Ha-yun shook her head firmly from the start of the recruitment pitch.
She didn’t even glance at the script placed below.
Though she had made a spectacular comeback on her return broadcast, frantically devouring ramen.
‘It’s not time to go back to the broadcasting station yet.’
The station would ultimately need to benefit her.
If it didn’t, now was better.
‘I don’t even want to waste my time.’
Broadcasting consumed far more time than it appeared to.
I might have chosen it before, perhaps.
Going to the factory canteen and having a meal during that time was far more beneficial to me now.
She genuinely felt that way.
And there was one more thing.
“The owner said he wouldn’t do the broadcast. I don’t want to pressure him into it either.”
Kim Seon-woo. I already knew he’d declined the broadcast.
And they wanted me to go there and pressure him into it?
I hated that.
“That’s exactly why we need you, Ha-yun.”
PD Ga grinned at her refusal and pointed to the proposal on the table.
The cover bore the working title “Salvation Through Cuisine.”
Ha-yun’s brow furrowed. She didn’t feel right deceiving the owner.
She was about to refuse again when PD Ga cut in smoothly.
“Be honest with me. You want to eat the owner’s cooking every day, don’t you?”
“…Well, of course.”
“But the menu is limited, right? Ramen, kimbap, maybe a special dish now and then?”
PD Ga leaned forward and lowered his voice.
It was like a devil’s whisper.
“If you do this program, we’ll provide unlimited ingredients from the production budget. Premium Korean beef, lobster, wild matsutake mushrooms… just name it.”
“…!”
“If you bring those ingredients to the owner and ask him to cook with them, do you think he’d refuse? New dishes, new ingredients, new customers coming in?”
Ha-yun’s pupils trembled.
‘…How did he know that?’
Kim Seon-woo. He was the type whose eyes lit up at the mere mention of quality ingredients.
I couldn’t forget that passionate gleam in his eyes when he grilled the châteaubriand last time.
“Using this program as an excuse, you could enjoy the owner’s new menus every week, in many different ways. All on the broadcasting station’s dime.”
“…He makes more money than you’d think.”
“I know, I know. With the customers coming and going all day, he’s making good money handling it all alone. But there are still ingredients money can’t buy, right?”
“!!!”
“Like things we could source through the station’s connections. Or things we could import directly?”
Now I could see why PD Ga was so confident.
‘He actually has real weapons.’
This was where PD Ga drove the final nail.
“The owner will end up liking it anyway. We won’t be a bother at first. Just keep doing what you’re doing. Go ask him to cook. Eat deliciously. Done!”
Ha-yun’s throat bobbed as she swallowed.
I could picture it.
Kim Seon-woo’s radiant smile as she beheld the truck brimming with premium ingredients delivered by the broadcasting station.
And the mysterious dishes that would be born from her skilled hands.
It wasn’t mere hunger.
A gourmet’s desire stirred within her.
‘Still, I have to hold back.’
I couldn’t burden Kim Seon-woo.
“That’s really all you need?”
“For now, yes.”
“So there’s more to come, then.”
Korean required listening to the very end.
“There is. The first few episodes can work with this format, but after that, we’ll need something more sensational.”
PD Ga readily admitted it.
That after a few episodes, he’d gradually shift to a different format.
The question was what that format would be.
“What kind of sensational content are you planning?”
“See the title?”
“…Culinary Salvation?”
“Yes. Just as the title suggests, we save people through food. By feeding them.”
“Hmm….”
Salvation through cooking?
‘How on earth would that even…’
I pondered this.
Then I belatedly remembered that I myself had been saved that way.
And I was startled anew.
‘Could PD Ga have noticed that I was helped? How could he possibly know?’

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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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