Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Chef
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He gave a short order.
"Plate."
The internet café part-timer Cha Eun-seo quickly set a fried rice plate down beside him.
"Here you go!"
He lifted the frying pan and portioned the fried rice onto the plate. Using the spatula, he shaped the rice before garnishing it with a few vegetable scraps he'd set aside earlier while prepping the ingredients.
"All done."
Cha Dong-seok stammered in shock.
"Huh? Huh? Already...?"
The fresh-cooked fried rice had come together faster than thawing and heating the frozen stuff.
Cha Eun-seo clapped her hands.
"Wow! Perfect plating too!"
Cha Dong-seok, still dazed, told her,
"Deliver it to the customer."
"Got it!"
The customer was deep in his game and didn't even glance up when Cha Eun-seo brought the fried rice. He was in the final team fight—no room to look away.
For all his focus, they lost that clash. No coming back now.
He released the mouse and vented at his teammates in the game.
"Jungler gap's ridiculous."
Grumbling, he finally turned toward the fried rice.
"Time to eat at leas—huh?"
He froze. Yeah, he'd ordered fried rice. But this wasn't the usual frozen slop—it looked seriously pro. Even the veggie garnishes on top screamed high-end.
"Uh... I just ordered regular fried rice, though?"
Cha Eun-seo lingered, curious about his reaction.
"Yep. That's exactly what you got."
"Whoa..."
They say we eat first with our eyes. Expectations high, he scooped up a bite and popped it in.
Umami exploded on the first chew.
'Wait... home-cooked vibes?'
Another familiar note hit too—like that crispy-edged fried rice you'd scrape from the pan after devouring dakgalbi at a restaurant.
He eyed the plate. Some grains had a faint brown tint, sure, but not a single one was burnt.
Somehow, the bite was gone. He went for seconds.
Delicious. Just the right grease, a symphony of flavors dancing on his tongue.
He was straight-up awed.
"Holy crap! This is next-level! This PC bang's a fried rice hotspot!"
His voice carried.
And the aroma? Killer. A nearby guy piped up.
"Gonna grab some fried rice myself."
Orders flooded in—one after another. Eight in seconds flat.
Boss Cha Dong-seok pleaded, looking frazzled.
"Uh... sorry, but could you knock out these new ones...?"
He murmured to AI Jeon Ji-in.
"Can we handle eight servings?"
"Why large batches?"
"And?"
"Not bad, this Field Tactical Cooking skill."
"It's 2022—you said that skill drops in 60 years?"
"Fine, whatever—fried rice time. Hand control back to you. Go."
AI Jeon Ji-in whipped up another batch using the fridge leftovers.
Battlefields are supply nightmares more often than not. You maximize whatever's on hand. She put every scrap to work.
This time, two deep pans—one on the electric stove, one on gas.
Ingredients first, rice later. Heat cranked to max again.
Spatula flew, alternating pans. Blinding speed—like roughly stabbing and shaking. Yet it mixed like a blender on steroids.
Occasional pan lifts and tosses sent rice airborne, then cascading back. Not one grain escaped.
Cha Eun-seo marveled.
"Whoa. It's like a machine stir-frying."
Max heat meant it didn't take long. Fragrant steam rose fast.
"Plates."
Cha Eun-seo lined up eight pronto.
He portioned them out, simple veggie garnishes on top.
She dashed them off beaming, returned glowing.
"They love it! Total raves!"
Boss Cha Dong-seok begged.
"Uh, me... just a taste...?"
"Made extra from the jump."
He split the remainder across two plates for them.
Cha Eun-seo shoveled a bite, eyes bugging out. Thumbs-up instant.
"Insaaaaane! Delicious! Miles better than our frozen crap. Pro chef?"
"Eh, I get by."
"Where'd you learn this?"
"Battlefield?"
She cocked her head.
"Don't battlefields just do rations?"
"Can't survive on that every day. Downtime? Cook up rice and such."
She got it wrong.
"Ohhh. Life's the war, reality's the battlefield, huh? You must've grinded hard."
Cha Dong-seok stared down his plate, tense.
'How good is this stuff?'
Cautious spoonful.
"Ah... this flavor..."
Heaven. Crushed their old frozen and local spots alike.
But he'd had this caliber before.
"Small-town Chinese joint I hit up sometimes—their fried rice slaps."
Cha Eun-seo perked up.
"Uncle's fave? The one doing minimum two servings?"
"Yup. This matches it."
"Whoa, so our chef's on par with their head cook?"
Cha Dong-seok snuck a fridge peek.
"Nah. Our stuff's cheaper than theirs. Tastes the same anyway."
Cha Eun-seo nodded vigorously.
"Oppa here banged out ten servings on scraps—and nailed that level? God-tier skill."
"God-tier. Seriously, baffling. These ingredients, this setup—how?"
Cha Eun-seo asked him,
"Could it get even better here?"
"Of course."
Boss Cha Dong-seok declared.
"Hired! Start now!"
"No ID on me."
"Tomorrow! Wait—name?"
Name? Blank. Still blurted,
"Gang-in."
"Gang-in?"
"Na Gang-in."
"Ah, Na Gang-in! Work here, please. Pretty please."
Shelter locked in. New customers rolled up, so Cha Dong-seok and Cha Eun-seo headed out front first.
Na Gang-in replied.
"Nah. Just winged it when asked."
"Stick with Na Gang-in till the real one's back."
Boss Cha Dong-seok burst back in.
"Na Gang-in! More fried rice orders—up for it?"
"No rice in the cooker?"
"Right... yeah, out of rice."
"Need better gear too."
He'd juggled two midsize woks. Mass cooking begged for big boys.
"What? I'll order it all."
"Gonna scout the store myself."
"Yowza, pro move—eyes on. Buy whatever. Today's promo tasting's tapped out anyway."
Boss Cha Dong-seok hollered for his niece.
"Eun-seo! Card's yours—head to the kitchenware shop with Gang-in. Big wholesaler up the street, yeah?"
Cha Eun-seo threw her arms up.
"Right now? Score!"
"After shift swap. Ten minutes left."
Ten minutes later, they stepped out.
The kitchenware specialist was close.
Na Gang-in scanned inside. AR Lens ghosted translucent blue outlines over pro Chinese woks and stockpots.
Na Gang-in grabbed them. Knives too, plus extras.
Cha Eun-seo hefted a wok, fretted.
"This too heavy? Stuff it full like before—backbreaker."
Na Gang-in snatched the giant wok, twirled it effortlessly, set it down.
"Feels light."
"Whoaaa. Strength's no joke."
She sneak-poked his arm.
"Arm's like steel."
Two big woks, pile more—店 arranged PC bang delivery.
They headed back.
Cha Eun-seo suggested,
"Swing by the mart for ingredients? We ran frozen; fresh cooking means stocking up."
"Let's."
Mart brimmed with produce. At veggies, AR Lens tagged prime picks.
"Why these?"
Translucent percentages popped beside them—100%s, 90%ers. Lower? Nada.
He loaded the cart—veggies, meats, sauces galore.
"2022 seasonings differ from 2082's?"
They went heavy—too much to carry. Mart delivery to PC bang.
En route, Cha Eun-seo dangled the card.
"Card's mine now—muahaha. Coffee detour?"
"Freely spend?"
"Uncle's the boss. Helps him out. This gig's his favor ask."
"PC bang has coffee."
"This spot's superior. Desserts slap. Oh—desserts too?"
Na Gang-in cut her off, told Cha Eun-seo,
"Can do."
"Eeee, what kind?"
"Eh... later. Look forward."
"Yessir!"
Bit further,
Na Gang-in knew. Change-outs essential.
Clearance racks ahead—tracksuits cheap. Full set: 10,000 won.
His street-performance haul exactly. PC fee refunded earlier.
Na Gang-in grabbed a 10k tracksuit.
"Yeah. Cheapest joint here."