Chapter 43
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Black and Glossy (1)
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A few days passed, and the excitement of the festival began to die down bit by bit.
But the number of people visiting Evergreen kept growing steadily, with the festival as the turning point.
Led by guests staying at the resort, merchant wagons came and went several times a day, and every time Dominic opened his eyes, new amenities seemed to pop up one after another.
"Mage, the kids studying under you are doing fine, right?"
"The quick learners could already pull their weight at any decent merchant company. I'm even thinking of prepping the smartest ones for civil service exams."
"Perfect! I was just thinking we need to hire more staff to keep the village hall running smoothly."
"How many should I recommend?"
"I'd appreciate that."
"And, well... I'd like to settle down here in the village too."
Dominic threw both hands up in enthusiastic welcome at Ferot's unexpected declaration.
"Of course! We'll get you a residency permit right away!"
"I was also thinking of opening a shop. Maybe sell magic tools to travelers. Could be pretty profitable, don't you think?"
"You'll take my commissions too, right? Here's your building permit. Just point out the spot for the land."
"Eee! Thank you, Village Chief!"
Ferot gave up on returning to the capital.
It was a shame to leave all those dessert shops behind, but teaching kids and crafting magic tools had let her live more peacefully than at any point since becoming a mage, tipping the scales.
'My limits were clear anyway.'
For a squeamish mage who couldn't stomach cruelty and lacked the shut-in temperament for research, Ferot had found a new path.
"I was about to put in a commission myself soon."
"A commission? Village business?"
"Maybe eventually, but this is personal for now. Know any spells to speed up fermentation?"
"Fermentation? Oh, for food, got it."
Spot on.
"Corruption magic has a similar effect, but I can't cast it. It's advanced."
Darn.
Since settling in Evergreen, he'd been fermenting soybean paste, soy sauce, and chili paste to eat, but real flavor took a full year.
'Wait another year for jjajangmyeon? No way!'
His original plan—Ferot's help to finish in a month—was falling apart.
"But there's a good alternative. Pricey, though..."
"There's a way?"
"The Magic Tower sells fermentation accelerators. Ground-up mushrooms or something. They say it slashes time for vinegar, wine, cheese—you name it. Not as good as natural, but mid-grade quality should be fine if that's enough. Want me to order some?"
"Thanks! Make it generous. Should've used that ages ago if I'd known!"
Knowledge really was power.
The accelerator probably had microbial boosters.
'No wonder cheese and vinegar were cheap. There's always a trick.'
The more Dominic learned about this world, the worse Earth's cost-performance seemed by comparison.
Anyway, time to make chunjang for real.
"Gotta start with cheomyeonjang... Might as well go big this time?"
To make chunjang, he first needed cheomyeonjang, the Chinese-style soybean paste.
Dominic aimed for Korean-style sweet-and-savory jjajangmyeon, but its chunjang sauce was based on cheomyeonjang anyway.
'Make cheomyeonjang first, then blend in umami and sweetness. Close enough.'
On a day when the sky was so blue it stung the eyes.
Sturdy Fishing Cooperative uncles gathered in groups in the yard before Dominic's kitchen.
"Makin' a ton of paste this time? Callin' out a crowd like this."
"Yeah. Not just for co-op meals—thinking of opening a restaurant too."
The uncles, led by Kallon, weren't fazed by Dominic's fuss over making paste.
They were already used to various pastes from co-op dinners.
"Oh yeah? Good call. Felt bad askin' you to whip some up whenever. Now we can just buy it. What kind?"
"Soybean paste. But different from the usual."
"Soybean paste? Can't you just make more chili paste? Still don't get the taste of that stuff. Urgh."
They'd taken to fiery chili paste quick, but the funky smell kept many from soybean paste.
"You'll eat your words once you taste it later."
Dominic brimmed with confidence.
"Your order's here!"
Just before starting in earnest, Anton arrived towing wagon after wagon. Each brimmed with jars as tall as a kid.
"Dominic, how many is this?"
"Should fill the back yard? Might need to expand if not."
The uncles' eyes went wide. They gulped in unison.
'No wonder the meat party after—no joke!'
They sensed the labor ahead wouldn't be light.
"Where's the knight? Not around?"
"Training with the Old Lord, he said. Running late today."
"He bolted. Smart one."
Resigned, the uncles rolled up sleeves and helped unload jars.
"Heave-ho! This too, Dominic?"
"Yep! Wheat koji over there, almaju beans here."
A few rounds of meju-making had the uncles hauling them to the yard like pros.
Koji and meju were prepped ahead.
'No explanations needed—they know the drill. Veterans rock. Look, they even brought the mortar.'
Watching Kallon casually lug a stone mortar Dominic couldn't dream of lifting, he quickly took position to direct.
"6-to-4 ratio. Beans 6, wheat 4!"
"Wheat in this? Thought soybean paste was beans only."
"Needs wheat for that sweet note."
"Sweet? Now you're talkin'!"
Thud. Thud.
Grind almaju beans in the mortar, weigh on scales, pass to next station smooth as clockwork.
"Add brine here."
Beans, wheat, brine into vats—uncles kneaded with all their might.
Veins like earthworms bulged on their arms.
Grip strength made it perfect for these Fishing Cooperative powerhouses.
Perfectly textured mix went back into jars, layer by layer.
Not complex, but it took care.
Sweat beaded on brows before long.
"Gonna need lotsa meat, Dominic!"
"I'll feed you till you drop!"
Watching the process hum along, Dominic nodded and headed inside.
Bubble bubble.
"Looks good. Meat needs a bit longer."
Pork prepped since dawn: bled, soaked in aged soybean paste to kill gamey notes.
Samgyeopsal belly and shoulder, two cuts.
'Tastes differ.'
Shoulder suyu was his fave, but Kallon and crew were die-hard "belly or bust!" fans.
"Suyu needs radish salad, radish salad needs suyu!"
Hum a nonsense tune while squeezing brined radish, tossing in chili powder, sugar, fish sauce, minced garlic—a red spice mix.
Familiar hue and aroma hit; Dominic's stomach growled.
'Known flavors hit hardest.'
No shrimp sauce was a bummer, but ssamjang covered it.
Even soybean-haters loved ssamjang—small mercies. He pulled pork, cooled, sliced thin.
"Village Chief?"
Ferot's head poked through the kitchen window.
Mage with a nose for food.
"You made it?"
"Yep. Perfect timing."
Magic Tower fermentation accelerator arrived too.
Dominic wiped hands, eyed the jar's yellow powder curiously outside.
"This the stuff that cuts six months to a week?"
"Yes. Slight astringency side effect, but tolerable."
"No biggie."
Cheomyeonjang had some anyway; frying neutralized most.
"That's it for now—let's eat. Join us, Mage. Got boiled pork. Tender stuff."
"Nah, thanks. Got places to be."
"Emily's?"
"Yep. New cake trio drops today. I'm out! Line might sell out!"
Ferot vanished in a flash.
Uncles stared at her back, baffled.
"Bread over meat?"
"Capital mages are somethin' else, boss."
As Dominic set table mid-yard, uncles wrapped up quick.
Long wooden table: steaming pork suyu, red radish salad, fresh green wraps—a feast.
"Take some soup too!"
Clear bean sprout soup.
First outing for sprouts grown in a siru pot—watered thrice daily, hellbent on Jeonju hangover cure.
'Skip sprouts, but steal that broth.'
Broth of anchovy, shellfish, scallion roots, onion—two months' hangovers no match.
New tavern supplied grain liquor and beer aplenty.
Then immortal bestsellers: spicy pork stir-fry, veggie stir-fry, dried fish grill, fritters galore. Uncles clapped in delight.
"Village Chief picked right!"
"Picked? I saw it comin'! Haha! Kallon's eye for people!"
"Dominic, all this for us? Dig in! Where to start?"
Just looking filled bellies.
Dominic rubbed arms, chuckled.
'People worth treating.'
Fishing Cooperative uncles who'd given shelter and food when none would.
Too bashful for words, thanks came via food.
"Meet again in a week. Fresh tastes then."
"Fresh?"
"Might hook you."
Grin shadowed by a shout.
"Humans! Room for one more!"
Dwarves and their noses for booze and meat—what else?