Finally, the Money Arrives
A large, squat square table in a deep brown spread itself open across the room, and the dishes were brought out one after another to take their places. In the corner, beneath the table's edge, Bong-gu's bowl sat waiting.
"Kyu...! (Why am I...!)"
He'd never been taught proper habits. The little rascal had snuck his way up onto the table and joined the meal, and now he apparently took it for granted that he'd be eating at the same table as the humans.
"Today you eat over there."
"Kyuit."
At my words, he sulked, ears drooping, and buried his head in his own bowl. I was just debating whether to go comfort him when my mother called me over.
"Ji-on, could you split these two dishes and set them where everyone can reach? And bring over the spoons and bowls!"
Dividing up the side dishes so no one had to stretch for them — and setting out rice, a spoon, and chopsticks at every seat. That was basic table etiquette. The dinner table was in the middle of its busiest preparations, and the people gathered around it, having finished their somewhat stiff introductions, were all keeping their mouths firmly shut.
One of them, Ji-on's father Seo Jae-mun, was no exception. Unable to bear the silence any longer, he sat down at the table and offered a piece of fruit that had been set out as a palate refresher to Choi Tae-seok.
"It must be a bit overwhelming, I imagine."
"Not at all. It's warm and homey — I like it."
At Choi Tae-seok's answer, Seo Jae-mun chuckled and glanced toward the kitchen, where his wife and son could be seen moving about with bright, cheerful faces.
"If only my leg were in better shape, I'd be in there helping them myself."
"Your leg?"
Only then did Choi Tae-seok notice the bandage wrapped around Seo Jae-mun's leg.
"What happened to it?"
"I got injured doing work abroad. It's healing now, though."
"Well, I'm glad it wasn't anything serious."
"No, thank heavens for small mercies."
Choi Tae-seok studied Seo Jae-mun's face for a moment — it carried a faint bitterness — and before he knew it, he found himself sharing his own story.
"I've been ill for several years myself. It was bad. I nearly died."
"Oh dear — are you all right now?"
The concern in his voice was unmistakably sincere. So that's where Ji-on gets it, thought Choi Tae-seok. That pure-heartedness of his — he must have taken after his father.
He looked at Seo Ji-on, who was bustling in and out of the kitchen, then at Seo Jae-mun sitting beside him. A father and son with strikingly similar, handsome faces.
A short while later, just as it seemed nearly every dish had been laid out, Jang Woo-jin appeared carrying an enormous pot.
"This is curry made from the carrots we brought earlier. I racked my brain over what would pair well with them, and in the end, for a home-cooked meal, nothing beats curry."
As he set the pot down and lifted the lid, a warm, spicy fragrance flooded the room. The carrots simmered soft in the curry caught everyone's eye — cooked so thoroughly they'd surely melt on the tongue the instant they touched it. And on top of that, generous chunks of meat with the grain still intact.
...That looked absolutely delicious.
Jang Woo-jin ladled out a spoonful of curry onto each plate. The people receiving their portions swallowed hard, the curry's bold aroma mingling with the sweet scent rising off the carrots. It wasn't thick or muddy — it was a dish with clean, defined edges, the kind where the vegetables seemed alive and breathing.
"Thank you for this mea—!"
We were just pouring every ounce of attention into our pre-meal greeting when—
Knock knock.
Someone rapped on the front door. The moment she heard it, my mother sprang up as though something had just dawned on her.
"Oh my, look at me. One of our guests hasn't arrived yet!"
"Ah, the smell of the curry must have bewitched me. It slipped my mind entirely."
Jang Woo-jin rose from his seat and went to set out one more place setting.
"Pardon the intrusion!"
A booming voice rang out from the entryway — a familiar voice I'd heard plenty of times, both over the phone and in person.
"Branch Head Park Byung-gyu."
"Haha, right before a meal, of all times. Another few minutes and there'd have been real trouble. My apologies for being late — work has been piling up something fierce..."
As the branch head continued his sheepish explanations, my mother nudged him along by the back.
"Go wash your hands and come join us, quick!"
And with that, the room dissolved into cheerful, rowdy chaos. The joy of reuniting with old acquaintances, blossoming all around the table, became a side dish all its own. I watched the scene with a soft smile, then bowed my head and picked up my spoon.
"All right then — for real this time. Thank you for the meal!!"
Clink clink—
Only the sound of dishes filled the living room. Every scrap of conversation had vanished; there was nothing but the noise of eating.
"Mmm—"
At someone's sigh of delight, everyone nodded along in heartfelt agreement.
"The aroma is... incredible."
At Park Byung-gyu's words, Seo Jae-mun mixed his rice and curry together and took another spoonful. Just as he said, the flavor-rich fragrance of the curry rolled over the table like a wave.
"Whew — well, this is something else."
Old man Choi let out an exclamation of his own. Watching their reactions, I carefully lifted a single piece of carrot from my curry.
And then, one bite. One bite.
Whoosh—
"...!"
Something crashed into me in an instant. The sweetness unique to carrots. The tender texture of a vegetable cooked to perfection. Up to that point, I'd expected it all. But everything that came right after — that was not.
A completely unforeseen phenomenon was unfolding in my body.
The world was sharp. My vision was clearer than it had ever been, every color brighter, every detail transformed. Even the white of the T-shirts the people around me wore registered differently. It was pure, unfiltered clarity. Every wall that had stood before my eyes — even the thinnest film of glass — seemed to have vanished, leaving everything clean and crystalline.
"...Ha."
A laugh of pure amazement escaped me. Hearing it, my mother asked worriedly, "Ji-on, are you all right?"
I nodded to her and held out a piece of carrot from my own bowl.
"Mother, here — try some of this carrot."
"Haha, I see. You grew these yourself, so you want me to taste them?"
Knowing nothing of what I'd just experienced, my mother simply accepted her son's affectionate insistence and picked up the carrot.
"Well then, shall I try the carrot our Ji-on raised?"
"I'd like to try one as well — a carrot grown by the Chairman himself."
My mother and Jang Woo-jin swallowed their carrots in unison, while Park Byung-gyu watched their reactions with bated breath. Ji-on's crops are never ordinary. This carrot might be hiding something too...!
Living up to Park Byung-gyu's expectations, everyone went wide-eyed and clapped a hand over their mouth, one after another.
"Good heavens."
"This is... this can't be real..."
"Impossible."
Hearing their exclamations, Choi Tae-seok swallowed his own carrot out of sheer curiosity.
"Just what's so special about a carrot we grew oursel— ...wha!"
His eyes squeezed shut. It was coming. A storm that would sweep everything else away was coming! He weathered that gale head-on, and when he opened his eyes a moment later, he set down his spoon and cried out:
"G-good Lord in heaven...!"
There wasn't a day ahead that wouldn't be bright for him. Always-tired eyes, vision clouded by presbyopia. Taking vitamins had helped for a little while, but that relief never lasted. This, though — this was on an entirely different plane.
Just how many years had he lived? His eyes had aged right alongside his body, enduring all those years with him. Presbyopia — everything blurred, close things just as hard to see as distant ones, a single line of text a struggle without a magnifying glass. And now it was gone.
"Chairman... Chairman, sir!"
Jang Woo-jin's eyes shone with awe. It wasn't merely a private, personal effect, either. The yellowed dimness had cleared from the old man's gaze, leaving it bright and piercing — exactly like the Choi Tae-seok of his prime, the chairman who had once commanded everyone in his company with a single look!
Watching all this, Branch Head Park Byung-gyu finally couldn't hold out either, and swallowed his carrot.
Gulp—
The moment it went down, something flashed through Park Byung-gyu's mind: the mountain of official documents stacked in his office — still piling up even now. The ringing telephones. The bottomless inbox.
Deep furrows carved themselves into the branch head's forehead. If the workload grows any bigger than this, I really might work myself to death. It had gotten to the point where he wondered just how far across the country these things intended to sell. Naturally, inquiries demanding confirmation that production could be scaled up were flooding in as well. That was exactly why he'd meant to bring up today's situation with Ji-on...
Yet out of his own mouth came something else entirely. The words he had sworn he would never, ever say:
"When do you plan to start selling this carrot?!"
At Park Byung-gyu's outburst, Jang Woo-jin's fingers flinched. And he wasn't the only one who felt the tremor in that instant. Choi Tae-seok's shoulders shifted too. The razor-sharp instinct honed over long decades in the world of business was howling at him right now.
Here — at this very table — the seller of this carrot is being decided. It was a carrot that Ji-on and he had raised with their own hands. Granted, the seeds had come from Ji-on, but still — there was no way he'd let the sales rights slip away right in front of him!
"Ji-on, my boy — what do you say to selling this carrot through our company?"
This time it was Park Byung-gyu's body that trembled. Only now had he realized that his rival had been sitting at the same table all along. Just as the staring contest between the two men threatened to boil over—
...Is this really something to glare at each other like mortal enemies over?
Much to the dismay of the two parties involved, the answer had already been decided.
"I can't sell these yet."
The carrots were currently being grown in Mana Plot 2 only. I had no way of knowing whether they'd grow properly if transplanted to another Mana Land. Production volume was what mattered for sales, and if they couldn't be transplanted, I couldn't produce them in quantity. In other words, they could only go on the market after I'd confirmed they'd thrive elsewhere, too.
At my answer, the tension drained from both men's faces in visible relief. Yes. See? How nice is it, having a peaceful meal together like this? Let's all be friendly with one another, shall we?
In that satisfied, easygoing atmosphere, Park Byung-gyu spoke up again.
"Come to think of it, I have some news worth celebrating."
"Celebrating?"
"Yes. Ji-on's crops are officially going to be expanded to stores nationwide."
"Oh...!"
My father nodded along, then turned his head to stare at Branch Head Park. I was no different. I could have sworn I'd just heard something enormous. Reading our reactions, Park Byung-gyu gave an embarrassed laugh and scratched his head.
"I shouldn't have just told you — I ought to have brought champagne to celebrate."
"Haha, then let's settle for cracking open some makgeolli."
"Wow — our Ji-on's going to be rich in no time at all!"
The table was still laden with food, and the faces around it still glowed with enjoyment. An unfamiliar little flutter stirred in my chest. You know, sometimes a meal like this isn't so bad. I quietly smiled and raised my spoon. It was hard to imagine feeling more at ease than this.
Today meant a peaceful dinner with everyone — and tomorrow was the day the money came in. Payday at the farm. The good news just keeps rolling in, doesn't it—
This week's income settlement period had run longer than usual, thanks to the holiday that had fallen last week. Just how much had accumulated this time? They'd said the sweet potatoes would soon be sold officially through agricultural cooperatives across the country, but it was probably too early to expect those revenues yet.
The moment school let out, I bolted for the bank. I slid my actual passbook into the ATM and pressed the update button.
Whirrr— clack, whirrr— thunk—
The machine made a great deal of noise. And a moment later — pop — it spat the passbook back out.
I rubbed my eyes a few times and sized up the number printed across the page.
— MANA FARM · ACCOUNT STATEMENT —
₩700,000,000
"...It's — it's finally here!"
It had landed. On my passbook.
Seven hundred million won!