Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Is the Writer Omnipotent?
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The promotion schedule was grueling.
For a three-day, two-night trip, they had to spread the word about the work as much as possible, leaving virtually no time to rest.
At best, they could carve out moments during transit or meals—otherwise, it was interviews, program appearances, and offline events.
“Ugh—! I’m exhausted, totally wiped out.”
Lee Seong-woo plopped into his seat on the bus after wrapping up the fan meet-and-greet.
The rest of the cast felt the same.
Everyone was drained.
‘Ugh—! We’ve got a program appearance tomorrow, and they’re all so beat. This is trouble.’
It was the final day of promotions.
The cast was set to appear on an NHK program.
NHK had prepared this special show to mark their visit to Japan.
It was arguably the most crucial part of the schedule.
The problem? All the actors were exhausted.
The relentless pace had worn them down more than expected.
On top of that, Japan was enduring unprecedented heatwaves.
Korea had seen its share of hot spells, but Japan’s humidity made it brutal.
It sapped people even more.
Tae-seong could sense the mood.
‘Hmm.’
When people are this fatigued, even pros get irritable or listless.
That might be fine on a normal day, but showing it during a shoot—especially on a foreign broadcast—could spell disaster.
NHK aired nationwide in Japan, after all.
The impact would be huge.
‘I need to pull something off.’
Tae-seong racked his brain for a solution.
* * *
“Where’s the writer?”
Back at the hotel, PD Kim went looking for Tae-seong ahead of dinner.
She checked his room first—no luck.
So she poked around everywhere.
She finally found him at the hotel desk.
“Excuse me, did the gentleman in room 305—part of our group—head out?”
“Room 305... Ah—! That writer guy?”
“Yes.”
“He’s in the restaurant right now.”
“The restaurant? But dinner time hasn’t started yet...”
“He came back, asked about the restaurant right away, and I haven’t seen him come back up since... so he’s probably still there.”
“Three hours in the restaurant?”
The staff looked like they knew nothing more.
PD Kim was puzzled.
To clear it up, she headed to the restaurant.
The hotel’s breakfast spot was its specialty dining hall.
It focused on Western cuisine but offered Japanese dishes too.
The food was so good, the actors raved about it.
‘Even if it’s delicious, who eats for three hours?’
Something was wrong.
As the person in charge, PD Kim quickened her pace.
No sign of Tae-seong in the dining area.
A few other guests, but no Tae-seong.
She finally flagged down a server.
“Ah—! That guy? He’s in the kitchen now.”
“The kitchen? Why...?”
“Seemed like he was cooking something. He told the head chef his colleagues were exhausted and wanted to treat them himself. Anyway, head to the kitchen—that way.”
“Oh, thank you.”
She thanked them and made for the kitchen.
Her head swirled with questions.
She needed to see for herself.
Was he really cooking in there?
It didn’t take long to find out.
Entering the kitchen, she heard cheerful laughter. There was Tae-seong, chatting with who looked like the head chef.
“So, what happened?”
“What do you mean? I told him, ‘Make that dish for them!’ And I whipped it right up!”
“And then?”
“Of course I made it! Truth be told, it was a challenge. Never cooked it before, you know.”
“Exactly. That’s the worst part. You hear the description, but you’re left wondering if it’s right.”
“Haha! You get it! You get it!”
The middle-aged man who seemed to be the head chef kept nodding, cracking up.
“Writer!”
“Ah, PD.”
Tae-seong stood from his spot, oblivious to her confusion, his usual self.
“Hm? And you are?”
“This is Kim Mi-hyeon PD, the drama producer.”
“Ah—! I’ve heard so much about you! I’m Kayamoto, the executive chef.”
“Ah...... Hello.”
Kayamoto greeted her in English.
PD Kim returned the greeting, then eyed Tae-seong and asked in Korean.
“Do you know him?”
“Nope. First time meeting today.”
First time?
They looked like old pals.
“So, what are you doing here?”
“The actors and staff seem wiped out, so I thought I’d make some samgyetang for them.”
“Samgyetang?”
“Yeah. Chef Kayamoto here kindly lent me the kitchen.”
Tae-seong got up and lifted the lid off a massive pot on the gas stove.
Whoosh—!
“Mmm......!”
A rich, savory aroma hit her nose.
Just inhaling it felt invigorating, like a shot of energy.
While she was lost in the scent, Tae-seong explained the situation to Chef Kayamoto.
The chef burst into hearty laughter and addressed PD Kim.
“Uhahaha! When this guy first asked to borrow the kitchen, I was floored. But hearing his care for his colleagues and his passion for cooking... how could I say no?”
Kayamoto was a born chef.
And Tae-seong had once lived solely for cooking.
That’s why they clicked.
“Ah...... Thank you.”
“No need. Seeing his skills, I realized—ah, I’ve got a long way to go. It reignited my dying passion!”
“Haha! You’re too kind, Mr. Kayamoto.”
Kayamoto smiled at Tae-seong’s words.
Big age gap, different countries.
Yet in just hours, they felt like childhood friends.
“Ugh—! Next time you pull something like this, warn me ahead.”
“Sorry. Wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Two surprises like that, and I’ll have a heart attack.”
Tae-seong smiled at PD Kim’s words.
* * *
Dinner time.
The actors and staff gathered at one end of the restaurant.
“Ugh...... No appetite, and now a meeting......”
One middle-aged actor grumbled.
He wasn’t alone.
Quite a few had planned to skip dinner.
No appetite, and they wanted to crash early for tomorrow’s schedule.
But PD Kim messaged everyone: meeting tonight, no exceptions.
So they all showed up.
“When do we eat, anyway?”
“Yeah, seriously.”
“Where’s PD Kim?”
Grumbles rose here and there.
Then the kitchen doors swung open. Servers emerged with huge trays.
Dolsot pots sat atop them.
The staff set one in front of everyone.
“Huh? What’s this?”
“Samgyetang?”
As surprise rippled through,
PD Kim and Tae-seong appeared.
“Alright—! Everyone exhausted, right? Special dinner tonight: samgyetang.”
“O—! PD Kim, nice touch!”
“Perfect timing—I was feeling drained!”
They lit up.
PD Kim added,
“And tonight’s samgyetang comes courtesy of our writer, Jeong.”
“Huh?”
“Wait, the writer made it?”
“No way—probably just helped out.”
“Nope. He handled everything from start to finish. Bought the chickens, prepped them, simmered it all.”
“Whoa...... For real?”
“The writer cooks too?”
“Writes novels, draws comics...... acts great, and now cooking pro?”
Tae-seong smiled at their shock.
“You all looked beat, so with Chef Kayamoto’s help, I whipped this up. Hope it suits your tastes—eat up, and let’s power through tomorrow.”
The cast and staff nodded.
Taste didn’t matter.
It was the gesture.
Prepping that much solo would’ve been brutal.
And Tae-seong was just as tired.
“Let’s give a round of applause for Writer Jeong!”
Veteran actor Oh Young-tae called out.
Applause erupted instantly.
“Thank you. Dig in before it cools.”
“Looks great!”
“Bon appétit!”
“Let’s eat!”
With thanks, they started eating.
Most spooned up broth and sipped.
Eyes widened.
“O—! Delicious!”
“So good!”
“What’s in this? Why’s it hit like that?”
“Whoa...... meat just slides off the chopsticks?”
“Look at that tender flesh.”
“Slurp—! Slurp—!”
Exclamations filled the air.
Some just slurped away silently.
Tae-seong smiled watching.
‘Enjoy it, everyone. You’ll feel recharged tomorrow.’
He’d added a special herbal blend to the samgyetang.
A restorative mix of medicinal herbs to rebuild stamina and vitality.
Soon after,
Empty dolsot pots littered the tables—not a drop left.
A kitchen staffer watching asked Kayamoto.
“Is it that good?”
“You haven’t tried it?”
“No.”
“There’s some left in the kitchen. Grab that.”
“Really?”
Kayamoto nodded.
They bolted to the kitchen.
Chaos—and gasps—followed.
‘Go ahead. Made extra for you all. Man, young but incredible. A writer like that? World’s full of surprises—you gotta live long to see ’em all.’
Kayamoto etched the name Jeong Tae-seong in his memory and headed back inside.
* * *
Next day, evening.
The Black Knight’s Her team boarded the plane, faces beaming with satisfaction.
Final schedule: nailed it.
Last night, she’d worried if the drained actors could perform.
But this morning, they were alive—vibrant.
Everyone knew: the samgyetang.
Fatigue? Gone.
Energy? Overflowing.
They could’ve tackled more right then.
Curious, PD Kim asked Tae-seong.
“Did you spike it with something?”
He laughed out loud.
“No way.”
“How’d you do it?”
“Hot, humid days—sweating buckets. So lots of cold drinks, iced ones. No appetite in the heat, skipped hot food for cold: sashimi, sushi, cold soba. Japan’s full of ’em—Korea, less so. You did it too, right, PD?”
“Yeah.”
“Fine occasionally, but three meals a day like that? Wrecks your gut. More bathroom trips, less nutrition absorbed.”