The Chef From the Apocalypse Enters the Food Industry - Chapter 72

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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 72. The Widening Crack
“Yes. Let me scout out the real estate around here. I’ll check out the nearby shops.”
If I don’t have teeth, I’ll have to make do with my gums.
The two of them brightened at my words.
“What if all three of us go around checking the nearby real estate together?”
“Right! There’s got to be empty factories or shops around here somewhere, right? Let’s pound the pavement and find them.”
“Ah, but what if we split up this time instead?”
“Split up?”
“Yes. We need to scout things out in a short amount of time. Even if the groundwork is handled, there’s still plenty we need to do, right? Considering that, our break time isn’t really that long.”
“Ah, that’s true!”
The two of them nodded readily at my suggestion.
We stripped off our aprons and immediately began combing through the real estate around the Factory District and New City District like we were searching for lice. It felt more reassuring than worrying alone.
But.
Two hours later, when the three of us returned to the Factory Canteen, our expressions were grim.
“Sigh.”
“Phew.”
Jang Owner and Older Brother, seated around the table, exhaled deeply in unison.
“I mean, there are no listings left! Any that remain have their key money doubled.”
“The aftermath of Jang On-gyu sweeping up the entire New City District market is still being felt here.”
“Is that so?”
“Well, we’re a problem too.”
“We are?”
“Yeah. Because our restaurant is successful, more people seem to be moving in here.”
“Ah, I see…”
“They say vacant spots get snapped up the moment they open up.”
The real estate brokers’ words echoed in my ears.
Even with money, there was no physical space available for expansion.
The surrounding shops were already occupied, and I’d heard that Jang On-gyu was looking at some of them too.
The remaining factory buildings in the district had conditions that were utterly unreasonable.
‘This is harder than I thought.’
In the end, just as I’d originally considered, breaking through and connecting Building B and Building C right next to the factory we were using was the most perfect and only solution.
But even that was completely blocked by the Old Gentleman’s firm refusal.
I stared quietly at the wall facing the B Factory.
* * *
I couldn’t just sit idle like this.
Over the past few days, I’d carved out time during break periods and right after closing.
It was to scout the area more thoroughly and hustle for opportunities.
But the result was always the same.
‘Is it today too? Well… it’s hard for something like this to suddenly appear anyway.’
Still, there was one thing I never stopped doing consistently.
“Old Gentleman, I’ve brewed you another bottle of tea today.”
I would regularly visit Lee Man-geum, the owner of the B and C Factory buildings, with a thermos of warm chrysanthemum tea. It was a path that conveniently led near both of their homes.
“Bringing me this every day won’t change how I feel, you know.”
“Ha. I understand.”
Once again, his gruff reply came without fail.
Yet despite his harsh words, the way his fingertips trembled as he accepted the teacup and the fleeting glances he cast betrayed a hint of remorse.
I responded with my characteristic warm smile.
“I’m not doing this to ask you to lend me the factory. I’m doing the same for the other two gentlemen as well.”
“…I see.”
“Yes. Meeting like this is all a matter of fate, and what’s so difficult about sharing a warm cup of tea? Please, enjoy it without worry.”
“Tsk. You’re quite stubborn yourself… Anyway, I’ll drink it gratefully. Thank you.”
Others might click their tongues and call such actions foolish.
In fact, Jin-woo would often pout in frustration whenever he saw me roasting tea leaves.
-Hyung, don’t you have any sense?
-I do, which is why I do this. It feels right to me.
But I found comfort in it.
‘Sharing food and easing someone’s heart. What could be more peaceful than that?’
Sometimes the hunger of the heart aches more than that of the body.
It’s the same now.
The Old Gentleman’s body might be fine, yet there were times when his heart seemed to ache.
A certain bitterness showed through.
It kept catching my attention.
‘So I share with him.’
There’s no other reason.
Sharing food is my survival and the most certain peace I know.
So rejecting someone and pretending not to know them simply because they refused me wasn’t my way.
‘He drank the tea well today too.’
I felt relieved as I returned with the empty thermos.
The next day, I brewed fresh chrysanthemum tea without fail.
I set out with a thermos carrying the fragrant scent of chrysanthemums.
After bringing the chrysanthemum tea to the two gentlemen first, they said he wouldn’t be home today.
“Where did he go?”
“He probably went to the factory. Today he said he’d be going there.”
“Ah! Thank you.”
The factory. It’s right next to the restaurant anyway.
‘Since it’s on my way back, this works out well.’
I wanted to hurry and give it to him.
I was heading toward the B Factory.
The factory, which should have been quiet as usual, seemed unusually noisy.
‘What’s going on?’
I stopped in my tracks.
The heavy iron door of B Factory, which was always firmly shut, stood half-open.
Sharp, heated voices were erupting from within.
An atmosphere entirely foreign to the peaceful moments before.
There, I witnessed a scene unlike anything I had encountered before.
* * *
‘There’s someone inside?’
My footsteps halted instinctively at the sudden noise.
The thermos in my hand radiated warmth,
yet a chill ran down my spine.
The heavy iron door of B Factory, always firmly locked, stood half-open.
Through the gap,
not only pale dust seeped out.
“Father! Please, just sell the factory!”
“How many times must I tell you no!”
Inside the dark factory, filled only with rusted machinery,
I could see two figures shouting with sharp, heated voices.
‘Calling him father… so this must be his son.’
It was Lee Man-geum and his son. The son appeared to be a man just entering middle age.
He paced anxiously across the factory floor, crying out.
“If we just expand… if we really invest in that business and scale it up, I can do it too!”
His face was flushed red, and desperation dripped from his hands as they slashed through the air.
“Stop spouting nonsense. Have you already forgotten how many ventures you’ve ruined?”
“Father!”
“This won’t work! This isn’t an object!”
“If it’s not an object, what is it then! A factory is an object! It’s a thing!”
“You fool! I’ve covered for every failure of yours with the money I’ve earned here! Do you not understand that!”
“I do! I understand! So… that’s why… just this once. Please?”
“Hah…”
The Old Gentleman stood rigid, one hand braced against the worn lathe machine.
But his clenched fist trembled faintly.
“Look at what’s next door! Everyone else is succeeding like that!”
The employee spun around abruptly, pointing roughly toward Building A where I stood.
“Even that factory canteen or whatever over there hits the jackpot every day, so why can’t I! I can do it too… Father! Please!”
The employee struck his own chest repeatedly with his fist, as if wronged.
“Please, just help me this one time…”
“…”
The sound of his fists echoed through the empty factory.
But Lee Man-geum closed his eyes with a bitter expression and shook his head slowly.
“No. Go back. This won’t work. This must… this must be preserved. If you sell it as you wish… it will crumble.”
“…Ugh! This is so frustrating! So incredibly frustrating!”
My son irritably swept his hair back, then spun around and bolted out the door.
Bang!
The half-open iron door shuddered violently as it struck his shoulder.
My son stormed past me as I stood in the doorway, our figures brushing against each other.
But with bloodshot eyes fixed only on the ground, he paid me no mind and quickly disappeared into the darkness.
I stood there dumbly watching his furious silhouette fade away, then turned my gaze back through the creaking gap in the door.
Perhaps it was fate.
My eyes met those of Lee Man-geum, who stood alone and motionless deep within the dark factory.
“….”
“….”
A heavy silence hung in the space shrouded by darkness.
The Old Gentleman leaned against the worn machinery, staring blankly at the floor, then slowly lifted his head to look at me.
He was the first to speak, his voice strained.
“…You saw it.”
It was a voice different from usual—old and weary.
The kind smile he typically wore when seeing me was nowhere to be found.
The stubborn determination with which he usually clenched his jaw had vanished entirely.
Between the deep lines etched into his face,
only the lonely visage of a diminished father remained.
At the sight of his forlorn expression, I hid the thermos I’d been holding behind my back and quietly lowered my head.
“…My apologies.”
I could not remain in that space any longer.
I stepped back and silently withdrew.
“…No, it’s not that.”
A small voice reached my ears.
But I did not deliver the chrysanthemum tea today.
The chrysanthemum tea in my hand was still warm.
* * *
My steps felt heavy the entire way back to the Factory Canteen.
“Hyung, why does your expression look like that? Did something happen outside?”
Jin-woo, ever perceptive, asked with concern.
But I simply shook my head lightly.
“No. I just got some fresh air.”
“Come on, that’s not the face of someone who just got fresh air.”
“Really. Come on, let’s get ready for the evening service.”
“Yes, sir!”
I couldn’t carelessly speak of another’s family troubles.
Soon the evening service began, and I picked up my knife, suppressing the turmoil within.
I couldn’t let my mood ruin the meals of our customers.
Whoosh!
I cranked up my intensity.
I handled the relentless stream of orders flawlessly, just as always.
While focused on cooking, my cluttered mind seemed to empty completely.
“We’re closing up for the day!”
“Everyone, great work today!”
With Jin-woo’s booming call, the whirlwind of a day came to an end.
After sending the staff home first, I was tidying up the kitchen alone with the shutter half-drawn.
Click. A cautious shadow approached from beyond the half-closed glass door.
“…Are you still open?”
A voice low and subdued.
“Old Gentleman!”
“Heh heh….”
It was Lee Man-geum, the Old Gentleman I’d seen earlier today.
Deep wrinkles etched his face, and he carried a heavy fatigue as he hesitated at the doorway, asking carefully.
“I know it’s shameless of me to ask… but would it be possible to have a meal?”
“Of course!”
I answered readily.

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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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