Unexpectedness
“Huh……?”
Ha-yun. Back when they’d first started out as YouTubers together, their subscriber counts had been roughly the same.
Now, though, Ha-yun had a following that made Lee Hyun-sung look like a rounding error.
The Eating Empress?
Mukbang queen. Empress. Whatever title you hung on her, it fit. Four million subscribers. The undisputed number one of Korea’s mukbang scene—a living legend who demolished mountains of food with that tiny frame. Im Ha-yun.
Why is she calling me?
Hyun-sung answered with a trembling hand.
“H-hello? Noona?”
“Hey, Hyun-sung. How’ve you been?”
“Fine, fine! What’s got you calling me out of nowhere……?”
“I hear you’ve been cooking up something fun lately?”
“Huh? Cooking up what?”
“Why play dumb? The rumor’s everywhere. You sweet-talked the Ramenkase owner into doing a restaurant-conquest tour with you.”
“Ah…… that already reached you?”
A cold sweat ran down Hyun-sung’s back. The industry gossip mill was fast, sure—but all the way to the Empress already?
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to mind. If anything, he felt good about it.
If even noona’s heard, that means my concept’s landing pretty well, right?
Her call was proof that the idea he’d put together was working. The real question was why she’d dialed him at all.
Don’t tell me she wants in on the concept?
If she did, knowing her personality, she’d compensate him somehow. A collab stream, maybe. A cut of her sponsorships. On any ordinary day he would have said thank you and left it at that.
Today was not an ordinary day. That would have felt like a waste.
“Ah…… well, it’s still just in the planning stages.”
He was wound tight with nerves when a soft, unrefusable voice drifted through the receiver.
“Then how about I……”
Ah. Just as he’d thought. She wanted to run the concept herself.
This is going to be a problem.
Ha-yun was in a completely different weight class. If she started a series under the same concept, no matter how solid his planning was, he’d get buried under her shadow.
Was this how it all died?
That was the exact moment she said it.
“Let me join.”
“……What?”
“I said let me join. I haven’t had an appetite at all lately—I’ve lost weight. Nothing tastes like anything when I chew it.”
“W-well, sure, but……”
“I hear that guy’s cooking is unreal?”
“It is, but…… the stage is way too small for someone like you, noona……”
“If it’s small, we make it bigger. Right? What—you don’t want me?”
Ha-yun laughed, a clear, bright peal of sound.
“If I show up, the stage gets bigger. I’ll scale the whole thing up for you.”
“…….”
“You haven’t locked in the first stop yet, have you?”
“That’s right. Everyone’s only asking for the second visit.”
“Pffft. Why would anyone want the second? Nobody’s got any instincts, huh?”
Right. And noona’s instincts were terrifyingly good.
So this is why she’s the big name.
Hyun-sung could feel she was a full move—no, two full moves—ahead of him. A fierce little wave of defeat washed through him.
Then a thought struck him out of nowhere.
Wait. Isn’t this actually huge?
This wasn’t just anyone. This was the Eating Empress requesting to appear. Half a million subscribers was nice. A million was nice. But four million?
Even if I get swallowed whole, when am I ever going to land a project this big?
If he got eaten, he got eaten. That would just mean he only ever had that much in him. But if he pulled this off and didn’t get eaten?
Then the whole story changes.
Maybe it was standing next to Kim Sunwu that did it. His stomach was still shrunken with trauma—but his guts had ballooned to bursting.
“Hey. Punch a hole through my stomach for me. Tell him I want something delicious. Tell him I want him to absolutely wreck me.”
The second he shifted his mindset, that spoiled demand sounded like the breath of an angel. He’d hooked a whale. No—a nuclear-class leviathan had walked in on its own two feet.
Hyun-sung answered with a full-body thrill running through him.
“Understood, noona. I’ll take proper care of you.”
When he hung up, a crooked smile crept across his mouth.
Ga PD? KBN? Come at him. All of them.
With this, I win.
Confidence flooded Hyun-sung’s face.
Time raced forward to the morning of the shoot.
The Factory Restaurant was noisy long before opening. Not because of customers running the open—today the place was closed. Instead, a man clung to the entrance like a leech.
“Boss! Just once, please! Come on?”
It was Assistant Director Park Min-su. Even after being chased off before, he still hadn’t learned—he was clocking in for morning duty again. Every day, every hour, right on schedule.
Doesn’t he ever get tired of this?
He looked terrible. The clean, polished version of him had vanished without a trace. His hair was a mess, his clothes a wreck, and heavy dark circles hung under his eyes as he pleaded.
“The PD says he’ll meet every condition! Whatever you want, he’ll make it happen!”
“I already told you I don’t want to be on TV. Move. I need to open.”
“Come on—who in this country turns down our PD? This is a real opportunity!”
He was tenacious. Stubborn as old leather. He wasn’t quite interfering with business, but having him hovering in my field of vision was more than a little irritating.
I treated him like a ghost and kept hauling ingredient boxes past him.
“Boss, are you seriously doing this to me? I’m going to get fired. I’m really going to get cut!”
“No. I’m telling you I can’t do broadcasts.”
After that regional station PD, I’d sworn off television entirely. The cooking competition had come out fine enough—but when it came time for the Youth Mall bid, that same station hadn’t lifted a finger to help and had quietly slipped away.
I just don’t think we mesh, you know?
So the answer was no. Being nice only went so far. No meant no.
“Aahh……”
Assistant Director Min-su was making a face like he might cry and starting to block my path again when—
Screeech—!
A black van glided to a stop in front of the shop.
A heavy chassis. Deeply tinted glass. The kind of van celebrities rode around in. Eyes turned toward it on instinct.
“Huh?”
Park Min-su stared blankly at the vehicle. The sliding door opened, and a familiar face hopped out first.
“Oh wow, you’re still here?”
Lee Hyun-sung. He clicked his tongue and looked Park Min-su up and down.
“Don’t broadcasting people have offices to go to? What are you even doing at someone else’s place of business?”
“Lee Hyun-sung? It is you, right? Ah—! I’m Assistant Director Park Min-su! You saw me on set before, didn’t you?”
“I did. I was on as a panel guest for a bit. You never so much as looked at me. I clearly remember you hurrying me off and telling me to get out of the way.”
“Ahem…… I was directing at the time, so I had no choice……”
“Sure. Sure. I understand. Now if you’d kindly step aside.”
“Excuse me?”
“We’re here to eat.”
“B-but it’s closed today?”
“They’re opening specially for us. Come on, just move over for a second.”
Hyun-sung gently pushed Min-su’s shoulder and cleared a path, then bowed toward the inside of the van with formal care.
“Noona, you can get out now. We’re here.”
Noona? Since when did Lee Hyun-sung have someone he deferred to like that?
Someone climbed slowly out of the car. A small woman in sunglasses. Her clothes weren’t flashy, but they were wrapped in luxury brands that gave off quiet class. She tipped the sunglasses down a fraction and looked up at the shop.
“This is the place?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Hmm……”
Around then, Assistant Director Min-su finally recognized the Empress.
“I-Im Ha-yun?!”
His shriek pulled every nearby eye. Im Ha-yun. Four million YouTube subscribers. The Empress of the mukbang world. A giant among giants, first on every terrestrial variety show’s wishlist.
She took the sunglasses off completely. Proud, sharp eyes showed themselves.
“Ah! Hello?”
Separate from the haughtiness, she greeted Min-su warmly.
“W-what brings you here……?”
“I’m here to film!”
“Ah……”
“We need to shoot, so would you mind heading out?”
Warm tone. Cutting content. She was telling him, politely, to get lost now that he understood.
That was the exact job an assistant director like Min-su usually did himself.
—Hey, you’re disrupting the shoot, please leave!
—Keep it down! We’re filming!
This time, he was on the receiving end.
Damn it.
An unnameable sense of defeat closed over Min-su. Leaving him behind, Ha-yun looked around. An old factory district. A rough, unpolished sign.
This concept’s actually fun.
She found herself genuinely interested. From the first glance at the sign, it was exactly her kind of place.
Glad she came.
With the man who’d been pestering me all this time finally peeling off, I was in a fine mood—until the woman standing in front of me crossed her arms, tilted her head, and looked me over.
“You’re the owner of the Factory Restaurant?”
“That’s right. Hello.”
“Hi! Hyun-sung wouldn’t stop raving about you, so I came to see for myself!”
“Haha. Thank you.”
“But are you sure you’ll be okay? My palate’s pretty demanding.”
Her red lips twitched. A provocative little smile.
A challenge? Ah—she’s trying to stoke my competitive spirit like this?
Her intention was crystal clear to me. This wasn’t a malicious jab. It was a cute little provocation that really meant: please, somehow, make me something delicious.
And past the provocation, I could see what she was hiding. A faint exhaustion. A complexion pinched just slightly, as if her stomach was unsettled. Tension she was forcing up by hand.
This one’s a patient too. Same kind of patient as Hyun-sung.
The system answered quietly.
New Target Added
🎯 Target:Im Ha-yun
⚠ Condition:Suffering from severe loss of appetite
I knew it!
Hook, line, and sinker. I grinned and pointed toward the kitchen.
“The pickier, the better. Come on in.”
“I like the confidence.”
“You’ll like the food even more.”
Ha-yun snorted a soft laugh and stepped inside. Hyun-sung and the other YouTubers filed in after her. In an instant the restaurant was packed. Cameras went up, and a strange tension settled over the room.
Park Min-su could only stare after them like a dog that had lost the chicken and was left gazing at the roof.
“What are you doing? I’m closing the door.”
“Huh? Uh, well……”
“If you’re not coming in, get out of the way.”
Bang! I shut the shop door for everyone to see. Through the glass, Park Min-su’s face was pure despair.
Those broadcasting people were going to start sweating for real now.
The board had already flipped.