Special Stamina Ramen
Just as I thought, what I loved most was…
It was better than I expected.
This was something else entirely!
Every single ingredient registered on his tongue.
Do I secretly have Absolute Taste?
No chance of that.
It was this ramen that was special.
Flavors maximized inside his mouth surged upward.
Is it the broth? No…
He had watched it being made.
A packet of instant ramen torn open, dropped in, and boiled. The water had been ordinary bottled water he knew well.
And yet…
The depth of the flavor was deep.
Too deep!
Slurp—slurp—
Noodles wrapped with green onion sent a wave of heat climbing up. His appetite roared to life!
The braised garlic turned out to be the hidden highlight.
Every chew brought a sharp, pungent kick, and the subtle sweetness that followed only made him hungrier.
Whoa…!!
All he could do was keep marveling. Every bite he swallowed felt like a waste—and at the same time he wanted one more. Regretting it while craving more. A perfect contradiction.
He tried not to swallow, but chewing carried it down his throat anyway, and the finish struck deep.
The noodles were gone.
Only the broth remained.
“Hwaah…”
Gulp. Gulp.
He swallowed the steaming broth as hot vapor rose in soft curls. The broth was first-class, too.
How was he supposed to describe it?
It wasn’t a taste that hit the palate so much as one that hit the body itself. Every sip was different. With each swallow, strength seemed to well up inside him.
Was this what a tonic felt like?
No.
That was it!
The wild ginseng his grandfather had secretly given him as a boy. A single small root, pressed into his hand as something precious. After eating it he had run a high fever all day—so much energy that the heat pulsed through him and left him miserable from morning to night.
That fierce memory rose again.
I think I’ve got even more energy than I did back then?
He almost dismissed it as imagination—then something rose through him with a sharp whoosh. And on top of that, the tightness and the endless sighs that had filled his chest all seemed to loosen at once.
It felt incredible.
“Ah…”
Clink.
Setting the bowl down felt almost painfully reluctant.
“All finished?”
“Huh? Yes—yes!”
“How is it?”
“It’s delicious. So delicious that… wow, how do I even put this…!”
Jin-woo had never been more frustrated by his own lack of words.
Wait. That wasn’t what mattered right now.
“That ramen looks pretty good, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah?”
“Look at the way he’s eating. You only make that face when it’s the real deal!”
“Is he acting?”
“Why would anyone put on a show at a food truck!”
“…You’ve got a point.”
“Let’s try it once, yeah?”
“Ah, ramen’s a little…”
“We’ll order one and split it. How’s that?”
“Well, if it’s just that…”
“Let’s go right now!”
Already the reactions around him were different. Everyone was watching Jin-woo, and Jin-woo himself knew it perfectly well.
He fished money from his wallet at once.
“Here—for the ramen.”
“Ten thousand won received. Just a moment, your change—”
“Keep the change!”
“Pardon?”
“One more bowl!”
He had to eat again before the crowd closed in.
The first customer has finished the Special Stamina Ramen.
Special Stamina Ramen.
My own recipe—instant ramen topped with braised garlic.
People might ask why you’d put braised garlic on ramen, but the pairing was surprisingly good.
If you make it right, that is.
The key was seasoning it properly with soy sauce while keeping a bit of crunch. Texture first, then the umami lifting the whole bowl. Loading it with skills for mouthfeel and flavor was just the natural bonus.
And thanks to that, a customer had finished the entire thing with pure enjoyment.
Effects are doubled.
Food effect: Natural healing ability rises for 60 minutes.
Food effect: Stamina recovery ability rises for 60 minutes.
Food effect: Stamina +2 for one day.
Among the recipe’s effects, the best was that Stamina +2.
Only two? You could say that—but the average adult’s stamina sat at ten. A gain of two was a full twenty percent increase.
The fatigue stacked in his body would have washed away in an instant. For the rest of the day, the food’s effect would keep him from feeling tired at all. With the body activated, the mind would clear and the mood would lift.
Just as the mind governs the body, the body governs the mind.
When the body felt good, the mood followed.
A fine effect for my first customer—and I saw it myself.
That first meal became a perfect catalyst. Call it a mukbang if you want: the sight of someone eating with genuine delight was the best advertising I could have asked for. People who had only been watching poured in all at once.
“Excuse me! Can I get the same ramen that customer had?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Here—five thousand won!”
“Five thousand won received.”
“Um, can the two of us share one bowl?”
“Absolutely! I wouldn’t normally, but since it’s opening day, I’ll make an exception.”
“Oh! Then one bowl, please!”
“Card received.”
Tables, counter seats—it didn’t matter. Every place filled in moments. A quiet little operation turned into a bustling, noisy one. Exactly the atmosphere a food truck ought to have.
“Think this is worth the hype?”
“It’s gotta be good, right?”
“Did you see that guy earlier? That was something else.”
“Yeah. Let’s wait it out!”
I’d better give them more than they expected!
Bringing happiness to the people who came to eat—that was my job. It was time to cook in earnest.
Slurp—
I fed a lot of people until they were full.
“Whoa…!”
“Now this is ramen! No—this is beyond ramen!”
“I’m stuffed! I only had one bowl—why am I this full?”
“It’s so warm.”
Finished clean. Everyone who had come out of curiosity left satisfied.
“Looks like that place is good!”
“Want to try it?”
“Yeah!”
People who saw that scene piled in, and a waiting line formed almost at once. It stretched all the way to closing. Working myself half-dizzy, I managed to give every waiting customer a meal they could be happy with.
In combat terms, it was like clearing a long wave.
“That’s the end of our hours for today—we’re closing!”
“Ah… why? I wanted another bowl…”
“The Food Truck Zone has short fixed hours on weekdays. I’m sorry.”
“That’s a shame…! When will you be out again?”
“I’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Oh! I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“Thank you!”
Reservations for tomorrow’s wave already booked. I saw the last customers off with a proper goodbye.
Nice. Cooking complete.
Now for the most important part—the settlement.
You have finished cooking.
You have warmly filled the bellies of over a hundred people.
Yes!
The title of Chef of a Hundred, earned as naturally as breathing. And right after it came effects even I could celebrate—I, whose emotions had grown so muted after the apocalypse of my past life. They were good effects for a chef, after all.
And that wasn’t the end of it.
An immediate level-up? Better than I expected.
My level had gone up. The experience from feeding customers must have outweighed everything I’d stacked up while preparing to open. The Apocalypse Chef class always grew faster when it fed others.
Growth is quicker than I thought.
Of course it was. In my past life, there had been so few people left to feed, and so little food to prepare. Now it was the opposite. Plenty of mouths, plenty of food. Riding that momentum, my level climbed in no time.
At this rate, I can grow faster than before.
I found myself looking forward to what came next. At the same time, a full, warm pride filled my chest—the pride of having fed so many people.
“Heh…”
I was genuinely happy. The smile came on its own.
Clatter—clatter—
Strength flowed into my hands as I washed the dishes, scrubbing until every bowl squeaked clean. Bowls and tables put away, the truck folded down completely. I finished every careful bit of cleanup for tomorrow’s business.
And then—
The customer who had ordered my ramen first came back carrying a gift.
“Oh? Closing already?”
“Ah—hello! Our fixed hours ran out.”
“Shame. I wanted another bowl. Haha.”
“Heh. We’re open again tomorrow—please come by.”
“Tomorrow too? Nice!”
Unlike before, the customer practically radiated energy.
“Yes! And, uh…”
“??”
“Thank you! I really got some strength back because of you. Maybe that’s why I landed a part-time job right away. Haha.”
“Oh—congratulations!”
“I’ll be coming by a lot from now on.”
“Then I’m the grateful one. Let me congratulate you in advance as my first regular.”
“First regular… I like the sound of that!”
He seemed bright by nature. When he smiled, the whole area felt lighter. Maybe that was why—the fatigue from my first day of business washed away all at once.
Titles. Levels. Growth in ability.
All of that mattered less than that smile.
Being able to bring someone happiness with my own hands. Being able to give hope with a single dish—that was a blessing to me.
This is the taste. This is why cooking is the best.
That day, I received a great deal of strength myself.
A month had passed since I started the business.
A lot had changed in that time.
I added three more tables.
Thud. Thump.
Setting them up every morning became part of the routine. But knowing I could seat more customers made it a good kind of work.
I had plenty of regulars, too.
“Hyeong! Want me to help?”
“Jin-woo, you’re here? It’s fine—I just finished setting up.”
“Ah. Shame.”
Regular number one: Kang Jin-woo.
He stopped by every day, saying he handled both his part-time job and his academy from this area.
“Hey—you’re not getting an extra bowl just for that.”
“You saw through me?”
“Yeah. But I’ll load the toppings for you, so go sit down already.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
“By the way—isn’t your part-time job at a ramen place? I thought I heard they give you a meal there.”
“Come on. Showing up here is a matter of loyalty!”
“Loyalty?”
“Hey! Just because the ramen shop’s doing well now, you’re going to treat me like this? I’m hurt.”
“All right, all right. Hold on. I’ll boil you something good.”
This guy who had become my first regular had more shameless charm than I’d expected. He’d landed a job at a ramen place already famous as a local favorite, yet he still came here to eat before heading in every time.
“Ahh… this is the taste!”
“Eat slowly so you don’t choke.”
“Yes!”
Slurp—slurp—
Still, he was precious to me.
Because of Jin-woo’s mukbang.
“Oh, that ramen place looks good.”
“Want to check it out?”
Jin-woo’s eating performance worked better than any storefront sign.
“Hello!”
“Oh, you’re back.”
“Wow—you remember me?”
“You’re a regular.”
“Heh. Nice. Looking forward to today, too!”
“Yes!”
“I’m here!”
“Welcome—have a seat.”
“Perfect!”
Thanks to that, other regulars multiplied. The office worker who complained about gaining weight and still came every day. The owner of the coffee truck next door. The kid who hovered around for days and finally ate once a week. Young and old, men and women—customers kept finding me.
Business was thriving in every sense of the word.
At this rate, I could open a proper shop somewhere good within a few months.
For me, that was more than welcome. Even after paying the Food Truck Zone fees, a solid amount of money was left over. A few more months like this and I could open a real restaurant and plant myself in the food business for good.
Should I go all-in on ramen, or expand the menu? What’s better?
I sketched a rosy future for myself.
At this rate…
I thought everything would keep going well.
“Hmm…?”
Then something came up.