Showdown

The shop hung in the calm before the storm.

Lee Hyun-sung and Im Ha-yun filled the two seats at the bar. Even with only the two of them, the space felt packed to capacity.

Their presence is intense. Guess being number one in your field really does set you apart.

Im Ha-yun. True to her moniker as the Eating Empress, the aura she radiated was no joke. She crossed her arms and fixed me with a steady stare.

"I'm looking forward to this. Hyun-sung wouldn't stop making a fuss about it."

"You won't be disappointed."

"We'll ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠see. I have a rather picky palate."

"Haha. That's a shame."

"Excuse me?"

"You won't be picky anymore."

"Interesting."

She twisted her red lips into a smile. Provocative. Yet behind it, that weary edge was still there.

I cheered silently to myself. The pickiest customers always made the most reliable regulars.

That was when it happened.

Screeeech—!

Outside, a car slammed to a rough stop.

What now?

Another vehicle pulled up in front of the shop. This one was anything but ordinary—a Porsche 911 Turbo, and in a brazen shade of red, no less.

Vrooom— vrooom—

The engine's exhaust note rolled through the alley. Every gaze swung toward the sound.

"What was that?"

"Someone else is here?"

All eyes locked on the window. Through the clear glass, the outside came into view. The sports car's door opened, and someone stepped out.

Flashy blonde hair. Model-tall. Looks that grabbed attention at a glance.

The shop door flew open.

"Sorry I'm late!"

She bounced in on that bubbly voice, and for a second the air inside the shop froze solid.

Im Ha-yun's brow twitched.

"……You?"

The woman who had just walked in slid off her sunglasses and tossed a wink.

"Oh my, Unnie's here too? I had no idea."

If Im Ha-yun was the classic big-eater Eating Empress of mukbang, Soni was the hot influencer who had seized the MZ generation with dazzling visuals and unfiltered banter.

In the industry, the two were famous rivals—and bitter enemies.

"What are you doing here?"

An edge had crept into Im Ha-yun's voice. Soni paid it no mind and plopped down right beside her.

"What do you think? I came to eat something good. This place is supposedly hot right now? It's all over my algorithm."

"Today is reservation-only. Invitees only."

"I know. That's why I begged Hyun-sung to let me tag along. Right?"

Soni shot Hyun-sung a smiling glance. Caught between two giants, he broke out in a cold sweat and forced an awkward laugh.

"H-haha…… Yeah. Eating together's better, right? Noona?"

"……."

"And the content writes itself?"

"……Hah."

Instead of answering, Im Ha-yun just glared at Soni.

Soni propped her chin in her hand and looked me over.

"Owner? Hi. I'm Soni."

"Pleasure to meet you."

"But Owner, you're seriously good-looking. You could do mukbang with that face alone, no cooking required."

She looked ready to drag me onto a stream then and there. Ha-yun's brow furrowed even deeper.

"Hey. If you came to eat, then eat. Stop putting the owner on the spot."

"Why? Looks like the owner doesn't mind. Publicity helps both of us."

"Hah. This isn't that kind of place."

"Yeah? Fine, whatever. But Unnie—I heard you've lost your appetite lately? Don't force it. Just go. I'll eat everything for you."

"Who said I lost my appetite? And since when are you the one looking out for me?"

Crack. Sparks flew in the air between them. The Eating Empress versus the trendsetter.

This is getting interesting.

The picture was entertaining. Beside them, Hyun-sung could barely breathe, reading the room and looking one second from tears.

I painted a spicy scene, but he looks like he can't handle it. Haha.

I, on the other hand, was fine. This situation wasn't bad. No—it was good.

The system responded, and the job just got easier. Competition ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠always made the fire burn hotter. I needed their little war of nerves to turn into an obsession with my cooking.

I brought the knife down hard on the cutting board. The sound cracked through the air, sharp and fierce.

"Save your energy for eating, both of you."

Their eyes snapped to me.

"You won't have time to talk once the food hits the table."

I grinned and grabbed the wok.

Whoooosh!

A massive column of flame roared upward. Time for the dopamine to hit.

Fire painted the kitchen red. Inside the wok, the ingredients danced.

If I'm doing this, I'm doing it properly.

Without hesitation, I poured the skills in.

This wasn't hospitality.

This is an attack.

Strike the tongue and the stomach until they surrender. Ordinary cooking wouldn't cut it—I needed intensity that burned itself into the mind. An unforgettable first hit.

Testing the waters just because it's the first course would be boring. The vanguard has to hit hard.

So of course the opening dish was something spicy. Not the kind of heat that only brought pain, though.

Why the hell would I wreck someone's insides?

It had to be deliciously spicy. Not the suffering kind of heat—the addictive kind that made you unable to put the chopsticks down once you started. That natural pull was what I chased.

I swirled my special chili oil around the wok.

Sizzle!

A sharp, fiery fragrance seized the dining room in an instant.

"Cough! What is that?"

"Whoa… smell that."

The YouTubers at the bar sniffed the air. Im Ha-yun and Soni, mid-standoff, both fell silent. Their eyes locked on my hands.

"Hoo……."

I could hear Im Ha-yun swallow hard from here. Her stomach was exhausted right now—indigestion, no appetite. But the second she caught the scent of my cooking, I saw that sleeping gut stir.

Good. First strike landed.

I never stopped moving the wok. Over high heat I tossed vegetables and seafood, then poured in the stock.

Fwoooosh!!

The temperature shock erupted in a cloud of steam as a deep, rich broth came to a rolling boil. I finished the dish right there in the pan, as if I'd been waiting for exactly that moment.

The stimulation has to be followed immediately by a full belly—that's what makes it fun!

"All right. First dish coming out."

Two steaming bowls rose onto the counter. A bright-red broth that practically announced how spicy it was, crowned with beautiful seafood that only sharpened the hunger. Just looking at it made you want to break a sweat.

No one ran.

"Thank you for the food."

Clack—

Im Ha-yun was the first to take up her spoon and chopsticks. She scooped a full spoon of the red broth and brought it to her mouth.

Slurp—

Eyes wide, she snatched up a piece of seafood with her chopsticks and stuffed it in.

Her eyes flew open even wider.

"……!"

Somehow, she didn't speak. No scream. No gasp of delight. She simply stared, blank, then looked from me to the jjamppong and back again.

That was the beginning.

Slurp. Slurp.

Faster. More. Beads of sweat gathered on her forehead, and still her hands never stopped.

Good. Color's coming back into her face.

As red as the broth itself, a flush of life rushed into her cheeks. It was the moment her deadened taste buds screamed and clawed their way awake.

Beside her, Soni refused to be outdone and inhaled the noodles.

"Hah! Mmph……!"

Soni's eyes curved. She looked like she'd forgotten the camera was even rolling. None of her usual sharp, tongue-twisting commentary. Instead she just sucked the noodles down in a hungry rush.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠two queens went berserk.

They made the massive bowls of jjamppong vanish as if inhaling them. Hyun-sung beside them was no different. After all that talk about not being able to digest anything, he swallowed every last drop.

"Whoa……."

"Wow. Spicy. So spicy. But what is this umami?"

"Right?!"

Wonder sat bright in their eyes. Lee Hyun-sung was still smacking his lips, appetite clearly not done with him yet.

But this was only the start.

"All right, you've had a taste—shall we move straight to the next?"

"Already?"

"Of course. The next dish is ready. This is just the beginning."

Without even clearing the empty bowls, I set the next course in front of them. This was an assault, not a tasting menu. Give them room to breathe and the whole thing fell apart. You had to land the next blow before they could collect themselves.

I set down a rice bowl different from the one I'd served at the cooking competition. This was no ordinary donburi.

It was a thick pork cutlet fresh from the fryer. Hidden inside the shatteringly crisp batter: black pork tenderloin, bursting with juice. Over that went a sweet-and-spicy sauce, finished with a soft-fried egg, the yolk still runny.

If the last dish seized them roughly with heat, this one would take them gently.

Someone might ask how a rice bowl could be gentle. Cooking was always relative.

"Batter number two, stepping up."

The second the bowl touched the counter, Im Ha-yun's chopsticks were already moving. Truly the Empress. She'd just finished a huge bowl that should have left her full, and she still didn't stop. Her hands rushed to break the yolk and mix it through the meat and rice.

Chomp. Chomp.

Chew, chew.

"Mmm……!"

Soni next to her looked much the same. She stamped her feet in delight, sauce smeared at the corner of her mouth and not a care in the world. Glamorous beauty YouTuber? In this moment she was nothing but a starving predator.

And I intended to feed these predators until they were full.

"Right into the next!"