Unexpected Events (1)

Lee Hyun-sung ate his ramen wearing an expression that looked ready to dissolve into tears at any moment.

"……."

He kept his face buried in the bowl and didn't utter a single word until he'd finished every last drop.

"That was delicious. I mean it. Truly."

Truly. It wasn't empty flattery.

Because his eyes held nothing but genuine feeling.

And the effect that sincerity called forth was astonishing.

The title I'd already held had grown stronger.

That's genuinely hard to pull off.

All I'd wanted was to give ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him a gift worthy of a sincere apology.

Instead, it felt like I'd received the greater gift myself.

A full level-up thrown in on top only deepened the satisfaction.

I was truly happy as well.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Then I'll see you again next time."

Hyun-sung paid and stood, looking somehow lighter than when he'd arrived.

It had been a good meal.

And it really had been wonderful.

But for a feeling to linger, a little aftertaste needs to remain—and yet.

"Is the other word for YouTuber just 'unemployed'?"

This guy. He came far too often.

"A customer walks in and the first thing he gets is an insult? Is this even a real restaurant?"

"No…… it's just that you come every single day."

"There's also the fine phrasing that says I'm boosting your sales."

"Wow. Shameless."

"Let's call it a fact grounded in reality."

From the day he'd eaten that life-changing ramen, he'd been showing up every day without fail.

Ten days straight!

And it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wasn't even once a day. On the rougher days, he'd eat lunch and then come back for dinner. Filming nearby had wrapped, he said, so he'd dropped by.

No hard proof, but this guy is clearly coming just for our place.

To my eyes, his excuse wasn't the real truth.

It felt far more like he was scheduling shoots so he could eat here.

"Don't you get sick of it?"

"The food changes every time—how could I get sick of it?"

"And you always order the life-changing ramen. Effective today: life-changing ramen is banned."

"Kh—just through today……"

"I'm kidding. Kidding."

Still, it wasn't a bad thing.

Having a regular like this after so long felt good in its own right.

Hyun-sung had a better gift for talk than I'd expected, too.

Every time he came, he brought fresh news the way a mother bird brings food to the nest.

"By the way, have you heard?"

"What now? Yesterday it was YouTubers asking if they could film here, and the day before that it was Boss Jang Street."

"Eh, those were just the small stories."

"Wow. Yesterday you spun that like it was some major scoop."

"Isn't that exactly a storyteller's talent?"

"Haha. Fine. I'll give you that."

When he'd talked about the rumors around Boss Jang Street the day before, he'd been fairly serious about it, too.

Apparently Boss Jang was opening a few more shops, and he'd started inviting food YouTubers in—except Hyun-sung had been left out and was sulking about it.

Forgiveness was forgiveness, and business was business, he said.

In the face of capitalism's cold edge, there was nothing to be done.

On top of that, the YouTubers who'd come with him that day even dropped by wanting to apologize.

Looking back, quite a storm of stories had blown through in just ten days.

And now he was winding up for another one?

If this is some bland nothing of a story, life-changing ramen is banned for real for a while.

I'd been ready to brush him off if it was nothing special—but the news he brought next was actually interesting.

"They're holding a festival."

"What?"

"They're going to run a festival centered on Shinsigaji."

Unexpected festival news.

And it was pretty welcome news, at that.

Whenever a festival went up, foot traffic tended to rise.

The problem was what came after.

Like they say about Korean—the end of the sentence is what matters—and the part that followed was even more entertaining.

"But it seems like Boss Jang is somehow involved."

"Oh, now that is interesting."

It really was interesting news.

A sudden festival announcement.

That much, I understood.

"Last time with the cooking competition, they had a pretty good run of it, right?"

"Yeah. He launched it right after becoming mayor, and it was more of a hit than expected. I hear City Hall's mood has been good because of it, too."

Hold a festival once and the foot traffic that pours in is no joke.

And this wasn't a one-off event, either.

They were taking the existing Gourmet Street Festival and expanding it in a big way—which meant both tradition and justification were already locked in.

"Youth Mall's been losing people little by little after that, hasn't it?"

"It has, but it's not like it's completely collapsed."

"So they're riding that momentum and going for it again."

"Pretty much."

Look closely and you couldn't call every piece of it a success—but still.

"If they keep that wave going and help Youth Mall again, that wouldn't hurt a reelection bid, would it?"

"It really wouldn't. Momentum is a real thing. He's good at his job."

"Right. He is good at his job."

Using a festival as a lever for a sure success wasn't a bad choice either.

The one thing that snagged was this.

"But is there even room for Boss Jang to get involved here?"

"Well. That's still the part I'm curious about."

Boss Jang was connected somehow.

But connected in what way, exactly?

That was mildly interesting.

Only mildly, though.

Brother Jang and Brother Woo seemed to feel the same, both wearing thoughtful looks.

Then—smack—Brother Woo tossed out an unexpected take.

"Think about it. Does it even matter either way?"

"Why?"

His attitude said Boss Jang in or out made no difference at all.

"If Boss Jang is involved, the festival's just going to get bigger, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Then we benefit either way, don't we?"

"!!!"

"Ah—you're right! That's true."

Hearing it put that way, he was correct.

It was a festival, after all.

They couldn't exactly run a festival and leave us completely out of it.

However it played out, more foot traffic meant we stood to gain.

"Isn't this basically Boss Jang cooking the porridge and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠serving it to us?"

"Haha. It might turn out that way."

"The more I think about it, the better it sounds."

Gains just for sitting still—who would've thought.

So luck comes back around like this.

Things were going well, and then some.

Brother Jang did raise one concern, but even that—

"Whatever they try over there, it'll just be some broadcast, won't it? We already weathered the YouTubers. You think we can't handle a camera crew?"

"True. At most it's a broadcast, and we can treat that like it never even existed from the start."

"Right. When have we ever cared about that kind of thing."

A fair concern, but not one worth fretting over.

"Anyway, as long as there's a festival, it's good for us."

"Exactly. It's good! Haha."

"Then shall we start stocking ingredients ahead of the festival period?"

"Right! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠We should."

"And get whatever base prep we can done early."

"Whoa. Sounds like we've got a lot of work."

"Tell me about it."

That day's meeting wrapped on a high note.

Ramping up ingredients for the festival period and getting the base prep done early seemed like a solid enough plan.

This should be enough, right?

Time flew.

In the meantime, I hit the dawn market every single day.

What new dish am I going for this time?

I was scouting what to cook for the festival stretch, and which ingredients would match.

"Man. Heavy again today."

"Well, there's a lot of cargo. Haha."

Brother Woo had come along for this one.

What business did a coffee seller have at the produce market?

He'd claimed he wanted to research new desserts—but still.

He's just looking out for me, isn't he.

I knew without being told that coming to the market together was his way of helping. Grateful as always, I finished the market run.

Then, on the walk back, chatting as we went—

"Still no plans to start taking deliveries from a supplier?"

"Not yet. I haven't found a supplier I can trust, and besides—when you go to the market yourself, there's a charm to being right there on the ground, you know?"

"True enough. Coffee beans are the same—getting them delivered is one thing, but actually going to a farm is completely different."

"Whoa, you've been to the farms?"

"Sure have! Managed to get out there a few times the hard way. Every time I couldn't lock a contract, it killed me…… Kh…… I should've sealed a few of those places back then!"

"Local contracts, huh. That actually sounds pretty cool."

"I know, right! Next time there's a chance, we should go together."

"Yeah. Let's definitely go sometime."

Talking coffee, talking ingredients—the walk stretched longer than expected.

Then, not long after we stepped into Shinsigaji, hurrying back toward the shop—

"Oh……? What's this?"

"Looks like they're really doing the festival."

We saw something pretty fun.

Small banners hung from every streetlamp, and a long banner stretched across the overpass above the road.

More of them had gone up than I'd expected, and the place already looked festive.

"Whoa. Looks like they're setting up a photo zone over there?"

"Yeah. And they're putting in flower beds here, too. Wow—was the gourmet festival always this big?"

"No. Even last year it wasn't on this scale."

"They're really putting their back into it."

Photo zones. Flower beds.

Ads were already cycling on the electronic boards beside the buses.

On top of that, guest singers booked for the festival.

For a local event, it was honestly impressive.

How much is all this costing?

Even with the mayor leaning on it, I thought people would start asking questions—but the answer sat somewhere simpler than expected.

"Right? The budget is…… ah……! There it is. Sponsored by Boss Jang's shops."

"Wow. So they put real money into it."

"Yeah. But since it's framed as sponsorship, it's not illegal either, right?"

"True. Local companies do that kind of thing for regional festivals all the time."

"Boss Jang is a little gray around the edges, but it's not completely off-base either."

"Anyway, I'm looking forward to it."

"Same."

I'd been a little wary of festival after festival—but at this scale, it looked set to be a real success.

And thanks to that, plenty of customers would find their way to our shop as well.

"I'm looking forward to the festival coming up."

I meant it sincerely.

Right up until just before the event began.