The Chef From the Apocalypse Enters the Food Industry - Chapter 77

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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 77. Each Person’s Story
‘Now I understand what needs to be done.’
I watched as Ga’s son cooked.
He’d initially refused.
But when I told him I’d personally guide him through each step, he pretended to be helpless and opened the kitchen door again.
I did have to persuade him.
Though it didn’t take long.
-What difference will watching make?
-It will make a difference.
-What if it doesn’t?
-I’ll take responsibility. A franchise? I’ll even cover the franchise fees myself.
-That doesn’t even make sense…!
-Should I draw up a contract?
-Why would you go this far?
-Because of the Old Gentleman.
-…Your father?
-Yes. Your father. Even as he hands over the store, even in that situation, he worries about you. That’s why I’m doing this.
-…I see.
-So try it. Cooking.
-Give me a moment.
Satisfied by my sincerity, he immediately began cooking.
I carefully observed the entire process as the food came together.
And I discovered the reason.
Why he only experienced failure.
To help him understand, I gave a blunt assessment.
“It’s not that it tastes bad. It’s just that it lacks any distinctive character.”
* * *
Late at night, in the kitchen of Lee Man-geum’s son’s worn-out store.
At my cold evaluation as I set down the spoon, the employee questioned me as if aggrieved.
“I measured everything precisely according to the recipe, didn’t I? I even adjusted the heat to the exact second as you instructed.”
True to his words, a digital scale and measuring spoons lay neatly beside the cutting board.
It was evidence of an obsession to replicate everything flawlessly without a single error.
I picked up the spoon again, scooped a bit of broth, and offered it to him.
“Try it yourself. What does it taste like?”
“What does it taste like… Well, it tastes like a delicious stew, doesn’t it? The sweetness, saltiness, and spiciness are all perfectly balanced.”
“That’s the problem.”
I set down the spoon and explained calmly.
“It’s a perfectly calculated, delicious taste you can get anywhere. These days, the golden recipes of famous restaurants are scattered all over YouTube and the internet.”
“So! Everyone finds it tedious, so in reality they don’t go that far….”
“Whether people actually do it isn’t what matters. People will buy and eat it, sure. But you need to think about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“The general public’s taste standards have risen to that level.”
“…Ah!”
“You can never survive by simply copying someone else’s recipe without error. You need your own distinctive style—your own weapon.”
My sharp observation made the Employee’s eyes waver noticeably.
“You must become a true chef, not an assembly machine that produces identical flavors.”
The Employee’s head drooped low.
I understood why he’d clung so desperately to the franchise opportunity.
‘He simply lacked the confidence to create this distinctiveness on his own.’
That desperation and frustration—the desire to hide behind the sauces and manuals provided by a large corporation.
I could feel it emanating from beyond his hunched shoulders.
Looking at his weathered hands, I assessed him silently.
‘His knife work is clean, and his fundamentals in handling heat are more than adequate.’
He wasn’t a difficult person by nature.
He had the sincerity to follow measurements precisely.
He simply needed a small dose of boldness.
‘I just need to break through his rigid perspective.’
A framework built from repeated failures.
A vicious cycle where fear of anything going wrong prevented any change whatsoever.
I had to shatter that framework.
Then he wouldn’t just run—he’d soar.
‘All the potential he’s built through sincerity will finally explode.’
I tidied the area around the gas range, shifting the atmosphere.
“Let’s call it a day.”
“So we’re stopping here…for today?”
“Yes.”
“Tomorrow should I…practice this recipe again? With slightly different ratios?”
“No. Starting tomorrow, you won’t look at the recipe at all.”
“What? How do you cook without a recipe?”
His eyes widened with bewilderment.
I pushed the scale and measuring spoon beside the cutting board to the side and spoke firmly.
“First, imagine the flavor that will go into the dish in your mind. Then rely solely on your palate’s senses to season it yourself and train to find your own distinctive style.”
“But…that…”
“Even if it seems impossible, just rest. Forget about cooking and everything else—just take a break first. If you can’t trust yourself, then trust me.”
The Employee stared at me blankly for a long moment.
Perhaps he sensed my resolve.
Or perhaps he was simply exhausted.
He exhaled deeply and spoke.
“…I understand. I’ll take a break.”
For some reason, even in those words, the Employee’s voice was hollow.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“…Come in.”
Leaving his courteous bow behind, I stepped outside.
* * *
Walking through the cool night air, I found myself in front of the Factory Canteen before I knew it.
Today had been quite a long day.
Dealing with customers who came in relentless waves.
And cooking instruction with the Old Gentleman’s son that stretched into the late night.
My body felt heavy as a water-logged sponge.
But my heart had never felt lighter.
‘I’m living well. I’m really living properly.’
Teaching someone and making people happy with my cooking.
It was something I couldn’t have even imagined in my past life.
The peaceful and fulfilling sense of accomplishment that came from it!
That warmth was filling a corner of my chest.
It was just as I approached my food truck, parked for the commute home, feeling a pleasant fatigue.
‘What is this?’
I saw two dark shadows lingering in front of the truck shrouded in darkness.
There was no reason for anyone to be at my truck at this late hour.
In an instant, a chill of tension shot through my entire body, which had been warming up.
‘Another sabotage attempt. Ugh. I’m so tired of this.’
There had been the recent incident with the Ruffians’ schemes.
And Jang On-gyu’s interference is still ongoing.
‘But I’m not someone who gives up.’
This truck is nothing less than the precious starting point that made me who I am now.
If these were people sent by Jang On-gyu to cause trouble, I had no intention of letting them off easy.
I approached the shadows quickly, masking my presence.
‘If necessary, I’ll subdue them in one move.’
I clenched my fists tightly, prepared to use force if needed.
But then.
“Oh! Welcome! Welcome! Our boss!”
What burst out of the darkness wasn’t a sharp weapon or a baseball bat.
It was a person.
Along with a pungent smell of alcohol that assaulted the nose, a man with a heavily slurred tongue staggered toward me.
Upon recognizing his face, I had no choice but to release the tension in my clenched fist.
‘PD Ga?’
It was PD Ga, the flagship star of KBN’s entertainment division.
That PD, who was always composed and confident, had appeared looking like a common drunk.
The taut tension instantly transformed into bewilderment.
“Hey, you! Hold on!”
Supporting PD Ga, who looked like he was at death’s door, was none other than Choi PD.
“Choi PD?”
“Ha. Haha… Ah, hello?”
It was Choi Yang-rok PD from the current affairs exposé program.
Choi PD was sweating profusely as he tried to pry PD Ga away.
“Good grief. What’s gotten into him? Hey, stop pushing. Stop… Huh? Coming all the way to someone else’s restaurant and acting like this is inconsiderate. Inconsiderate, I tell you!”
“Inconsiderate my foot! I came to see our boss! Our Kim Seon-woo boss!”
PD Ga paid no heed to Choi PD’s attempts to stop him.
He stumbled toward me with a goofy grin plastered across his face.
‘Good grief. Smell that alcohol.’
He was thoroughly, completely drunk.
The renowned PD of the entertainment division had tracked me down to my truck and was now spouting drunken nonsense, barely conscious.
‘What on earth happened to make him drink this much? No, more importantly, what’s he doing here?’
I stared at both of them with an exasperated expression.
The sight of PD Ga swaying and dancing to his own rhythm, while Choi PD fumbled about trying to stop him, was genuinely amusing.
* * *
I couldn’t just leave them like this.
“Come inside for now.”
I ushered the drunken PD Ga and the supporting Choi PD into the restaurant.
I seated both of them in the empty hall after business hours and headed to the kitchen.
‘Why do customers keep appearing endlessly?’
Was I blessed with good fortune in customers, or cursed with difficult ones?
‘Perhaps it’s both.’
Even as I grumbled, my hands were already opening the refrigerator with practiced ease.
These troublesome(?) customers arriving at such a late hour.
But judging by the pungent alcohol stench, they urgently needed a hangover cure.
I retrieved dried pollack and bean sprouts.
[Using skill 【Ingredient Enhancement】.]
A special dried pollack hangover ramen with the Ingredient Enhancement skill applied to maximize toxin-expelling properties.
I added finely sliced green chili peppers to the milky broth that was bubbling away, perfecting the sharp, spicy kick.
[Dish Complete: Golden Dried Pollack Hangover Ramen]
[Upon consumption, immediate detoxification occurs.]
It was finished in no time.
“Here, have some of this first and settle your stomach.”
I set the steaming bowl in front of both of them.
PD Ga picked up his spoon with hazy eyes.
Slurp—
And the moment he took a spoonful of the milky broth.
“…Huh?”
PD Ga’s eyes flew wide open.
The steaming broth coursed down my esophagus in a torrent of warmth!
That broth unmistakably pierced through the congestion that had been suffocating my chest, clearing it completely.
[The medicinal properties of the dish activate.]
[The target’s severe hangover is immediately relieved.]
[Nerves damaged by alcohol recover, and clarity of mind returns.]
A miraculous taste—brain cells pickled in alcohol awakening all at once.
Slurrrp! Slurp!
PD Ga began inhaling the noodles frantically, oblivious to the scalding heat.

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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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