Chapter 84
Chapter 84
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: Food Truck Turnaround
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Song Chef...!”
Jung Jun-hwa stared at me with a pitiful expression. His massive frame made his wide eyes look just like those of an abandoned puppy.
To be precise, only his eyes were visible.
“What’s going on?”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
I’d rushed over after getting the call, but seeing him decked out in a hat and balaclava like some undercover operative—anyone would react the same way.
“Ah, this.”
Jung Jun-hwa yanked down his balaclava as if the thought had just hit him.
“It’s a rule to hide my identity while selling. If I used my name, it’d turn into a popularity contest... But nothing’s selling right now—that’s the problem!”
Oops.
I hadn’t considered that part.
‘With the Jung Jun-hwa name, people would try even unfamiliar dishes without hesitation. That’s why I passed on a novel but tasty recipe.’
Who knew he’d be hiding both his name and face? No one had mentioned that beforehand, so I hadn’t factored it in.
‘No wonder it’s flopping.’
A remote spot in the neighborhood, an unfamiliar menu hawked by a masked stranger?
I’d hesitate too.
“I mustered up my courage to give it a shot...! Three sales in two whole hours!”
Selling even three was impressive. Gotta admire their guts.
Sigh. What now?
‘Can’t let a recipe handoff end in failure—it’d kill my rep. I’m here; might as well do something.’
A quick scan showed plenty more issues beyond that. Verbal advice alone wouldn’t cut it.
I let out a deep breath and rolled up my sleeves.
“You gotta pay me top dollar for my time. I’m premium help, you know?”
“O-of course!”
“Stop selling for now. Let’s move spots first.”
“Huh? Why? This is residential—plenty of foot traffic...”
“Exactly. Lots of people. The issue is, most aren’t in the mood for snacks.”
He looked puzzled, so I explained step by step.
“There’s Junhoe Station nearby.”
“Yeah, less than ten minutes on foot. Isn’t that prime station-area real estate?”
I got his thinking. Close to the station, smack in a residential zone—target the locals.
Big mistake, though.
“You know there are tons of food trucks right by Junhoe Station? Takoyaki, electric fried chicken... That’s where they cluster.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I picked here—too much competition there! This is blue ocean territory!”
Ah, dodged the rivals, spotted an empty gap, and thought ‘jackpot.’
Food trucks bunch up for good reason, though.
“Point is, street food hunters snag something at the station and stroll into this alley already munching.”
Right on cue, a passerby up front clutched a plastic bag emblazoned with ‘XX Fried Chicken.’
See?
I shrugged meaningfully, and Jung Jun-hwa finally got it—gasping with a sharp inhale.
“So the location’s a total bust from the start. If we’re doing this, head straight to the station.”
“Ugh...”
“Let’s go.”
At my urging, he started packing up the food truck with a sulky pout.
Alright, fresh start!
“This spot looks good.”
I parked with polite spacing from the other trucks—ethical distance, but prime entrance spot with solid foot traffic.
Apron on, hygiene gloves, face mask, hairnet to keep stray locks at bay. Locked and loaded for business.
Flipped the ‘OPEN’ light to sparkle... and crickets. Zero interest.
A couple glanced curiously at the menu, but the unfamiliar items kept them at bay.
“See...? Told you. Nobody comes. They just breeze past.”
“They don’t know what it is, so they hesitate. People balk at ordering unknowns.”
Totally normal psychology. Maybe I should’ve suggested something more familiar?
‘Nah. This tastes way better. Let’s give it a whirl.’
Yeah. A few bites and rave reviews, and curiosity will snowball.
Whoosh!
Fired up an empty pan. Jung Jun-hwa jumped beside me.
“Huh? No orders yet?”
“Act busy. Stand idle with no customers, and you’ll scare off the ones who might show.”
“Eep! Got it!”
He hustled at his tasks, for what it was worth... Clumsily prepping ingredients, at least.
Stirring the mozzarella cheese for no good reason. Beginner level—hey, it’s something.
I slathered thick peanut butter on the bread, topped it with thin banana slices.
Cooking up a storm drew eyes—people starting to watch.
Now for the key moment.
I hoisted the white chocolate and grater high, grating dramatically.
Scrrrrape!
Shavings piled up like fresh snow.
“Whoa~.”
Onlookers gawked, jaws dropping. No fire show, sadly.
But food trucks thrive on spectacle. Makes it fun, special.
‘Next up... this.’
Sprinkled mozzarella on top with flair. Bit messy around the edges, but I’d clean later.
Priority: hook the crowd into customers.
Sizzle!
Melted a massive glob of butter on the hot pan—way more than needed. Buttery aroma flooded the air.
“Smells amazing.”
“Looks delicious.”
Plopped the toast on the buttered pan, flipping and shaping for show. Truth be told, low heat melts the cheese slow—no need for theatrics, but gotta draw eyes.
Fuss enough, and voila: golden, butter-drenched calorie bomb toast, complete!
Front and center display. Curiosity won; folks edged closer for a better look.
Struck while hot with a bright smile.
“Hello~.”
“Oh, hi.”
Caught ‘em off guard. I rolled on smoothly.
“It’s delicious—give it a try! But heads up, it’s no diet food once you peek inside~.”
Cheeky truth got a big laugh. Customer flashed one finger, ordering a toast.
“I’ll take one to start.”
“Coming right up~! One toast order!”
Packaged it neatly for easy eating, shot Jung a look.
‘Pay up already.’
He caught on, scrambling to handle cash.
“Here you go~! Eat it hot for max flavor!”
Handed it over with a grin. Customer bowed thanks and dipped.
“How’s that?”
“Let’s grab one.”
Friends swarmed the first buyer, eyes full of FOMO—but hadn’t pulled the trigger yet.
Crowd’s attention locked there.
‘Play it cool, play it cool.’
I busied myself with the next toast, ignoring them. Right as I layered banana slices...
“Wow! This is good!”
“Yeah, flavor’s insane~.”
Heh. Raves from the side yanked the holdouts forward.
“One for me, please.”
“Just two here!”
“Me too, one!”
Orders poured in from everywhere. Jung blinked in shock.
“Wh-what? One toast, and suddenly a mob?”
What’d you expect?
To him, it looked like I’d ‘just’ made a toast. Most folks miss the details.
I grinned. “Worked some magic. The ‘more customers’ spell.”
Call it Song Woo-yeon magic.
Jung looked torn between joke and real.
“Hurry—take those orders.”
“Huh?”
“Truck’s cramped; two’s a flow hazard. Single burner anyway.”
One chef’s ideal. Kitchen help’s nice, but don’t bank on his finesse.
“Go collect orders on paper—number ‘em like tickets. Slip me sheets with number and menu. You got this?”
Gripped his shoulders firm. Despite the bulk, he nodded with scared-puppy eyes.
Perfect. Let’s roll.
He hopped down, taking orders from the first few.
“Yes, yes! Line up here~! First-come, first-served! #1: one toast, #2: two...”
Division of labor kicking in. Orders flooded as we focused.
Curious pioneers queued, drawing chains of followers.
Soon, a proper toast line snaked out.
Hands flying—tiring, but sales were booming.
‘Keep this up, we’re taking first place.’
Jung and I meshed like a real team. Doubt many had a pro like me juicing the game.
Stock flying off the shelves.
My cut aside, revenue stacking nice.
That’s when...
...it all flipped.