All-Out Assault

All-out assault!

I came at them without a second of rest.

A bright, refreshing cold-noodle ramen to cut through the richness. A heavy-hitting marbled-beef bibim-myeon for pure impact. And to finish, a thick, chicken-porridge-like udon with the noodles cooked soft enough to soothe the stomach.

I didn't serve single portions.

If I'm going to treat them, I have to treat them properly!

I piled the food into bowls so massive they were less "served" than "loaded." And between those main dishes, I never stopped sending out sides. When the udon went out, I sent tempura to match. When the ramen left the kitchen, kimbap followed. When the bibim-myeon hit the table, I grilled meat and sent that too.

It was a full-blown arsenal of food-turned-weapons. Tart, sweet, deliciously spicy, deep and savory—explosions of flavor across every range and method imaginable.

I kept feeding them as if I were dropping bombs.

"Ahh…"

"I can't take any more…"

"But it keeps going down anyway!"

Their mouths screamed that they were full, but their hands still reached for my cooking. Slurp— slurp—

Lee Hyun-sung's eyes had already gone blank; he was inhaling noodles on pure mechanical instinct. Sweat poured down Im Ha-yun's forehead like rain, yet her eyes still glittered with life.

The type who gets stronger the more she eats?

Im Ha-yun was living proof of what it meant to be born for this.

"Boss… huff…"

After clearing the last plate, Im Ha-yun called to me between ragged breaths. She slumped forward over the table as if collapsing onto it.

"I lose…"

"Pardon?"

"I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠surrender. I surrender. I can't… I really can't eat any more."

She raised both hands. Beside her, Soni had also abandoned any will to fight. She just sprawled limp in her chair and wordlessly stuck up a thumb.

"I'm mad. Seriously… it's so good I'm angry. I was supposed to pick this apart… ugh…"

Perfect victory!

Their stomachs had long since been stuffed full of my cooking. Their hearts had surrendered.

Done!

As if it had been waiting, an alarm rang.

Nice.

First, I had broken the man who planned this whole dojo-break challenge—Lee Hyun-sung. I had dragged his appetite all the way to the limit, then restored the digestive power that had, for some reason, fallen away.

Slipping medicinal dishes in between was the right call.

A perfect clear, start to finish.

Im Ha-yun was the same. A woman who could already put away ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠twenty servings even without an appetite had just eaten far more than that. From what she'd said, it had been a very long time since anything like this had happened.

Perfect appetite recovery!

That alone was enough for her. Watching her, it was clear she was simply built for mukbang. Once her appetite returned, the leftover minor issues would sort themselves out on their own.

The surprise was Soni.

When I first heard about her, I figured she rode her mouth to the top. But she can actually eat?

For someone with that polished city look, she got more earthy the longer she sat there. At the start she had been a pure fact-bombing machine, firing off sharp takes. The fuller she got, though, the more a warm regional drawl quietly slipped into her speech.

Wow. So the whole thing was a persona? That's impressive in its own right.

She was more remarkable than I had expected. And those remarkable people were now defeated soldiers, moaning and screaming in happy agony—the screams of being full.

Lee Hyun-sung's camera had been streaming the entire process live. Dopamine had been firing nonstop through that whole broadcast.

"Huh… so this is how he plays it?"

In a KBN variety department meeting room, Ga PD let out a hollow laugh. On his phone screen, Korea's top mukbang YouTubers were clutching their stomachs and crying surrender. Concurrent live viewers had broken seventy thousand.

Seventy thousand in the middle of the day? On a weekend this would be hundreds of thousands.

The chat was pure chaos.

Assistant director Park Min-su stood beside him looking pale as a sheet.

"P-PD-nim. That live has more concurrent viewers than our pilot ever got."

"I know."

"What do we do? If he keeps running his own lane like this, recruiting him is dead, right? This looks huge. Should I go beg him again or—"

"No. No. It's fine."

"Even now ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠we should get— wait, what? It's fine?"

"Yeah. It's fine."

Ga PD raised a hand to cut him off. His eyes stayed locked on Kim Sunwu on the screen—the way he swept his sweat-soaked bangs back and grinned. To Ga PD, that image was powerfully appealing.

I can already see how I'd frame him. Damn…

In that moment, Ga PD found himself oddly convinced.

"Min-su. Looking at this now, I get why you couldn't bring him in."

"Sir?"

"It must've been hard. He's on a different level. Different level entirely. Stick an assistant director on someone like that… of course he might not like it."

"…Ah. Yes, sir."

"Do I sound like I'm ranking people? Sorry, but I can't help it. Think about it. With that kind of skill, how much pride would he be carrying? That's why he wouldn't even give you the time of day."

"R-right."

"Yeah. That's how it is. We just have to understand."

Ga PD's misunderstanding only deepened. In truth, Kim Sunwu was not a complicated man. He simply had clear likes and dislikes. If he liked something, he liked it. If he didn't, he didn't. He had refused purely because he disliked the idea of being on broadcast.

But to Ga PD, newly smitten by the live stream, all he saw was the upright pride of a chef filled to the brim with self-respect.

"I want that man."

"Sir? You want him?"

"Yeah. I thought he was just a skilled technician who cooks well. He isn't. That is innate. He knows how to enchant people. He's got showmanship, and guts."

"Th-that much?"

"Yeah. With just that one guy, I feel like I could spin out ten more programs."

"T-ten…"

Ga PD ran his tongue over his lips. At first Sunwu had been nothing more than a top-priority recruit—useful as a panelist until the freshness wore off, then sent home. A picky restaurant owner, so that level of treatment had seemed fair.

But this was different. That man was not a simple chef. He was a true raw gem who, if he felt like it, could seize and reshape an entire broadcast stage.

Wounded pride over being refused?

No. Getting refused is part of a pro's job. When a good person refuses you, that's nothing to get precious about.

If anything, the refusal only made him hungrier. Easy people were boring. You had to get bounced like that for the conquest to taste sweet.

"Looking at this, a simple recruitment pitch won't cut it. We need to rebuild the board."

"The board, sir?"

"Yeah. We need to set up a board so massive and so attractive that kid can't refuse. That's how you hook him, right?"

Ga PD's eyes glittered. It wasn't hostility. It was the look of a predator that had spotted prey—or a child that had found a toy it absolutely had to have.

…Look at those eyes. PD-nim has completely lost it.

This was the moment when Ga PD's infamous industry obsession fused with pure misunderstanding.

"Heh. Look forward to it, Kim Sunwu. I'm going to make you walk over here on your own ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠two feet."

"Ah… yes, sir…"

He lifted his phone toward the Kim Sunwu on the screen as if toasting him, thoroughly drunk on his own vision.

Still… looks like he's not going to yell at me anymore… so does that mean I saved my j-job?

The assistant director could only stare with eyes that didn't know whether to cry or celebrate.

The next evening, a thumbnail dropped on the Hyun-sung TV channel.

Eye-catching, aggressive red lettering. Behind those letters: Im Ha-yun and Soni, faces buried in bowls, soaked in sweat. And behind them, arms crossed and standing at ease in perfect contrast—me.

"Whoa, the clickbait is next-level."

"Even I have to admit that."

The title was even worse.

The title alone was pure aggro.

Kid's got talent, all right.

The content went even harder. Hyun-sung had clearly poured his soul into the edit.

Doo-doo-doong—

The video opened on a solemn, epic track. Soni stepping out of a flashy sports car. Im Ha-yun appearing in sunglasses. The edit made it look as if the two of them had made a simultaneous entrance, framed against each other.

"They didn't actually walk in like that."

"But it looks better this way."

"It really does. The tension hits right away."

The direction was sharp. Their commanding entrances flashed past, then the cut shifted and closed in on me inside the kitchen.

"I'm always happy when people are picky. Come on in."

A calm voice. But the eyes behind it belonged to a predator.

What followed—the cooking sequences—looked like a blockbuster movie trailer. KWA-AAAANG! PAANG!

A massive pillar of fire filled the frame. The wok work, caught in slow motion, bordered on art.

"Whoa. That's cool."

"Right?"

Ingredients leaping into the air and falling. A blade flashing sharp. Even my profile, beaded with sweat. Whether it was the power of the edit or whether I actually looked like that, it came off surprisingly convincing.

He even nailed the sound effects at just the right moments.

And the finished product was stunning. The blazing red broth of the Hellfire Seafood Jjamppong was captured in such high definition it looked ready to punch through the screen.

"Whoa, I've already eaten that, and this still makes me want it again."

"I know. We ate it right away, so he couldn't even have set up a separate camera for beauty shots."

"Exactly! Wow… just looking at it makes me want a bite… gulp… any chance we could do jjamppong for dinner tonight?"

"Hey now. Hold it. Tonight's already reserved for something else."

"Khuh. Understood!"

Even Jin-woo, watching from the side, was impressed by how well the footage had been framed.

Then came the moment Im Ha-yun lifted a steaming strand of noodles—