Chapter 270
Translator: penny
Chapter: 271
Chapter Title: Checkmate
A bolt of realization streaked through his mind like lightning, and Park Tae-ok felt his entire body go rigid.
But forcing a natural expression, he replied with feigned nonchalance.
“Ayoo, is that so?”
Song Woo-yeon chimed right in.
“Yeah. Exactly. What's so hard about apologizing? Once the investigation kicks off, it'll all come out anyway.”
“…….”
“If it turns into a criminal case, it's out of our hands from that point on. We'd rather settle it quietly beforehand if possible.”
Song Woo-yeon smiled faintly as he asked,
“Don't you think that's the better option?”
Park Tae-ok's mouth felt gritty, like he'd chewed sand. He didn't even have the bandwidth to worry about what expression he was making.
He had no idea where to start with his explanation, or what the right move even was—his mind was spinning in circles.
As if sensing his inner turmoil, Song Woo-yeon took a bold step closer, ramping up the pressure.
“No need to overcomplicate it.”
Song Woo-yeon whispered softly.
“We don't want things getting noisy either.”
He added under his breath, 'It'd just be a hassle.' Fame probably came with unwanted rumors, so they wanted to avoid the gossip.
That thought loosened the vise grip around his heart just a fraction.
Spotting that crack in their armor, Park Tae-ok pounced on it without hesitation.
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
Deny first—what else could he do?
You guys don't want an investigation either, right?'And there's no solid proof I'm the culprit!' Park Tae-ok had poured every effort into making it a perfect crime. He'd hidden his face completely, ditched the trash, filed false reports, then looped around the area to muddy his trail instead of heading straight back to the shop. His heart had pounded like mad each time. The malicious review wasn't on a domestic site—it was on Gukkle—so who knew if they'd cooperate properly. Even if they did investigate, he didn't think they'd pin it on him. 'They're just fishing, testing me.' So all that talk about avoiding a fuss was probably just empty words to manipulate him. The thought straightened his previously slumped shoulders.
“I don't know anything about it. Take it up with the person involved if you want an apology.”
He spat it out and turned on his heel. He'd sounded pretty firm—satisfaction welled up inside him. He moved slowly, careful not to look like he was running away. That's when Song Woo-yeon's voice drifted from behind, casual as ever.
“5118. Right?”
“……!” How? Park Tae-ok nearly muttered it aloud before catching himself.
“The number attached to the ID of whoever kept posting those malicious reviews. Doesn't it feel familiar?”
Oh no. Complete disaster. Park Tae-ok didn't know beans about Gukkle accounts or IDs. He'd just logged in, posted, and figured it was anonymous enough. But the ID stuck around? And it had 5118 in it? That number was...
“The last four digits of your phone number, Owner.”
Park Tae-ok turned slowly to face Song Woo-yeon, who stared back with a subtle smile playing on his lips.
“Quite the coincidence, huh?”
“…….”
So that's how he'd been caught. Park Tae-ok finally understood how Song Woo-yeon had zeroed in on him out of all the merchants in this alley. That tiny slip-up had handed them the perfect hook. Park Tae-ok clenched his teeth for a moment, then shrugged it off like it was nothing.
“So what?”
It was circumstantial at best. 'Phone digits as their big "evidence"? If that's all they've got, they're bluffing!' If their strongest proof was that flimsy, there was nothing to worry about. Caving now and groveling was exactly what Song Woo-yeon wanted! Park Tae-ok snorted to himself. 'This green kid trying word games on me? In your dreams.' He had way more life experience under his belt. Pinning someone down with cheap tricks? How sleazy.
“I don't know what you're on about. I've got shop opening prep to do—no time for this nonsense.”
He fired back, then lifted his chin stiffly.
“I'm done wasting time.”
“Shall we, then?”
But Song Woo-yeon shot back like he'd been waiting for it. Park Tae-ok had gone hard expecting them to fold. The unexpected pushback made him flinch inwardly.
“Owner. All that food waste dumped out front every day? We've been documenting it. Photos, digging through the contents, the works.”
They'd dug through it? Park Tae-ok stared at Song Woo-yeon in astonishment. Food waste was filthy and stank—even he felt grossed out by it. And they'd handled it themselves? Unbelievable.
“Pfft. Come on, we're in the business—touching food waste isn't a big deal. You know that.”
Song Woo-yeon grinned.
“It was all jumbled up. Most of it was impossible to trace to a specific shop. Onion skins, green onions, potatoes, carrots—every place uses that stuff.”
Exactly. He'd put real thought into it. His pocha served a variety of anju, so he'd cherry-picked the most common ingredients to "gift" them. Nothing that stood out, right?
“But some things are unmistakable. Take the green onions—tons of the green leafy tops tossed. The white parts get used a lot for stock, so we figured it was a broth-heavy spot.”
Like the fish cake soup at his pocha.
“We saw thinly sliced potato slivers too. The kind you cut for potato pancakes.”
Slices that thin and uniform weren't common.
“Peppers split halfway with just the seeds scooped out—not too spicy. Cucumbers sliced for plating had thin grooves cut lengthwise.”
“…….”
“Even everyday ingredients leave traces from how they're prepped. You can guess the usage.”
Song Woo-yeon stated it like it was obvious. But Park Tae-ok couldn't buy it. Who could pinpoint a shop from that? It took exceptional observation and deep knowledge of cooking processes. 'Caught by this?' Now it clicked—the Gukkle ID was just the nail in the coffin. They'd suspected him from the food waste alone. 'No, still not hard proof!' Thin potato slices here, white green onion parts there—all circumstantial. As if reading his mind, Song Woo-yeon continued.
“And above all, fruits like lemons and oranges? Labels still stuck right on the peels.”
Oh crap! Park Tae-ok jolted. He did keep fruits stocked for squeezing lemon juice over fish dishes or fruit anju. Lemons especially—he often juiced them peel-on, so unless it was going out to a table, he didn't bother peeling off the labels. Same with peels from fruit anju ingredients.
“Owner, how long have you been out here? Long enough, I'd say.”
Song Woo-yeon smiled slyly.
“Plenty of time for someone to slip into your shop and check those fruit labels. Right?”
He flinched. Park Tae-ok stepped back without thinking.
“No way... all this chit-chat was just to stall? Buy time?”
Since when? Noise outside had drawn him out, then Choi Min-hyuk had cozied up like they knew each other. Song Woo-yeon joined seamlessly after—and if that whole sequence was a setup to lure him away? The long-winded explanations, holding back the killer detail till last—all to run out the clock? Meanwhile, if Choi Jun-hyuk had strolled into his shop and casually scoped the kitchen? And spotted fruits with matching labels...
“…….”
Checkmate. He was cornered perfectly. No escape route, backed into a dead end. Park Tae-ok couldn't shake the feeling he'd been played in an elaborately laid trap.
“I, I...”
He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words died. Deny it? Grovel now? What if a real investigation started? Were the jail time and fines for real? Could he keep doing business in this alley? One word from Song Woo-yeon to his followers, and this ugly truth would spread everywhere. Rumors, finger-pointing, run out of the neighborhood—what then? Dozens of worries flashed through his mind in seconds. And just as quickly, he reached a conclusion.
“……Sorry.”
Park Tae-ok hung his head, mumbling softly. Shame kept it glued down.
“I was wrong. I shouldn't have... but seeing those lines every day, I just couldn't take it...!”
His cheeks grew slick with tears. Sobbing, he poured out apologies nonstop. Sorry. Really sorry. I won't do it again...