Chapter 90
Chapter 90
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: Two Warnings
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Two warnings.
No room for improvement.
Substandard franchise owner.
That name didn't match any of those labels at all, leaving me stunned. Kim Jong-chun. Uncle Kim Jong-chun?
He was one of the few people I called "Uncle" instead of "Owner."
I even called Lee In-cheol "Owner" without fail. But Kim Jong-chun's uniquely friendly demeanor had always made it easy for me to relax around him.
So it was even harder to believe.
"......Isn't there some mistake?"
Otherwise, how could it be.
I pictured Kim Jong-chun smiling so kindly at people.
Even after getting stabbed in the back by franchise owners over a hundred times, the hundred-and-first time brought the same thought.
That guy couldn't possibly do it.
The Kim Jong-chun I knew wasn't the type. No matter how tough things got or how much people ground him down, wasn't he the one who sweated buckets but smiled so brightly?
And yet.
And yet how.
"We visited repeatedly to persuade him. We know he's close to you, Owner, and that he's been with us from the early days."
Jo Yi-ruk spoke calmly. Knowing the shock this would bring me, he took extra care in choosing his words.
"He's practically an original member of The Song and a close friend of Owner Lee In-cheol. That's why we handled it with such caution and tried persuading him nicely several times."
"......"
"But in the end, this latest secret inspection showed no improvement, so here we are reporting it directly."
Jo Yi-ruk's words felt impossibly distant. No sense of reality at all.
"By the rules, one more warning on a secret inspection means termination of the franchise... but it's so close to the main branch that it seems like you might want to reconsider."
"...You're right."
"What will you do?"
"I'll go see him."
Maybe because I still couldn't believe it. My voice came out far calmer than I'd expected.
My insides were a tangled mess of thoughts, but my long-honed poker face didn't waver in the slightest.
"I'll go alone."
"Yes. Understood."
I told Jo Yi-ruk to head back to the office first, then set off on foot by myself.
The newly opened Song Cafe was right across from Hapjae Neighborhood Gukbap. It was a remodel of the old cafe that used to serve as the waiting area for customers lining up at Hapjae.
With Hapjae branches sprouting up like mushrooms, fewer people were trekking out here just for a bowl of gukbap anymore, which made it feasible.
Of course, that didn't mean business had slowed. It just wasn't the hours-long-wait-for-a-bowl chaos it used to be.
'Now that I think about it, I must've passed right by here constantly while prepping the Song Cafe... but I hardly ever stopped into Hapjae.'
I'd been swamped myself, and Hapjae had settled into a stable phase—no real need to micromanage.
Honestly, wouldn't it just make the franchise owners uneasy if the HQ boss kept popping into their stores?
I'd held back even more, worried they'd feel watched. And just like that, full autumn had come and gone, the air had turned bitterly cold, and I couldn't even remember the last time I'd laid eyes on him.
I stood in front of the bustling Hapjae Nowol Branch, hesitating for a moment before shoving the door open.
"Hello! Welcome to Hapjae Neighborhood Gukbap~. Party of how ma—... Huh?"
A server I recognized froze at the sight of me. We locked eyes in mutual surprise for a beat, then she instinctively glanced toward the kitchen.
It was the look of someone unconsciously checking the kitchen's state.
'Hoo.'
I followed her gaze.
"......Ha."
A hollow laugh slipped out. Wow. How the hell did it come to this.
She clearly knew something was off, stealing nervous peeks at me. Normally, I'd have played it cool out of consideration—no need to drag her into the mess.
But not this time. My face twisted despite myself.
"I'm here to see Owner Kim Jong-chun...."
I trailed off long, then clicked my tongue.
"Guess he hasn't shown up yet."
In the kitchen, some head chef I'd never seen before was churning out gukbap like mad.
No sign of Kim Jong-chun anywhere—in the kitchen or out front.
Gone was the guy who'd greet customers with that bright smile. All that remained was a robotic chef slinging bowls and servers scrambling to handle the crowd.
Might as well scrap the whole open-kitchen concept at this point.
Kitchen was slammed on its own terms, hall ditto.
Zero interaction between the two. Recipe for order screw-ups.
"Well, he's not exactly late—he just stepped out for a bit. If I call him now, he'll be here in a flash...."
"Ah. Uncle told you to say that if I showed up?"
The server flinched hard at my words, clamping her mouth shut.
You think I haven't seen this song and dance before? Owner ghosts the shift, tells the staff to ring him if I drop by? I've clocked so many variations, I could recite 'em.
"If Uncle's not clocking in, who handles opening?"
"Uh......"
"I already know, so spare me the fibs. Wastes our time. You know who I am, so I won't pretend to be casual about it."
I flashed a bright smile and pressed on.
"Besides, Uncle will spill it all anyway. Just lay it out."
She hesitated a moment, then finally spoke up.
"Oh, uh, the morning crew just handles opening prep as usual."
"Aha, got it. And closing? Uncle does that himself?"
"......"
No answer, just eyes darting every which way. Didn't need to hear it—I knew.
Hoo.
I swallowed a sigh that threatened to burst free. Owners have to personally oversee opening and closing. Can't just dump it on the staff.
I'd drilled that into him over and over. It's the quickest path to losing your edge.
Sure, once or twice might slide. But give it time, and they'll cut corners however suits them. The owner has to lead by example.
'I told him that so many times......'
My mouth tasted bitter.
Not my first rodeo. Trusted franchise owners turning rotten? Happens all the time. But the sense of betrayal hits fresh every damn time.
If I said the hardest part of this gig was losing faith in people... that'd say it all.
Sales tanking? Plans derailing? Dizzying headaches, sure. But they don't carve wounds this deep into your chest.
"Can you call Uncle for me?"
I kept my tone as even as I could for the server, who was still eyeing me warily.
"Tell him I'm here."
Jo Yi-ruk stared at the Hapjae Neighborhood Gukbap building with a tangle of emotions, then fished the cigarette pack from his pocket.
He'd quit for quite a while, but ever since that fiasco where a franchise caught heat for hawking sundae gukbap, he'd caved and started up again.
Click click.
No such luck. Lighter was bone-dry.
He spat out the half-pulled cig in disgust.
'Must sting like hell.'
He knew the feeling all too well.
Hell, he'd only crossed paths with the guy a handful of times during franchise training, and even that left him disillusioned. Song Woo-yeon? God only knows.
Word was, Kim Jong-chun had been there from day one, watching Lee In-cheol's original Hapjae evolve into a franchise powerhouse.
Jo had seen it himself back when he first joined—Song Woo-yeon and Kim Jong-chun thick as thieves. He couldn't even hazard a guess at what Song was feeling now.
'World's a bitter place, bitter.'
He clicked his tongue and flung open the car door.
Figured the talk would drag, so time to head back to the office.
Screeeeech!
"？!"
Some car screeched to a halt, jutting way out into his parking spot. What the—?
Now pulling out would be a nightmare.
Damn it. Muttering under his breath, Jo Yi-ruk approached the driver's side.
"Hey, sir! You can't just park like—...!"
That's when the driver bailed out in a frantic scramble.
Huh?
Jo Yi-ruk's eyes went wide.
"Whoops, sorry about that. Got an emergency right now. I'll move it in just a sec—... Huh?"
The guy clocked him too and cut himself off.
"......Owner Kim Jong-chun."
It was him. Why the hell was he here? Store was smack in the middle of rush hour.
Picking up supplies or something? The question flitted through his mind.
Then Jo spotted Kim Jong-chun's wild, unkempt hair.
Kim Jong-chun averted his gaze just a touch.
"......"
Looked like he'd bolted straight from home. Reason? Obvious. Song Woo-yeon had just marched inside.
Still dodging direct eye contact, Kim Jong-chun threw out a breezy line.
"Haha. Fancy running into Team Leader Jo here. How embarrassing. My bad—emergency and all. Gotta be a pain to pull out, huh?"
"...No worries. Better get inside."
Jo Yi-ruk couldn't mask his conflicted feelings.
"Song Owner's waiting."
Kim Jong-chun froze for a beat, then cracked a bitter smile.
"......Yeah. Thanks."
He dipped his head in a quick bow and hustled off. Jo Yi-ruk stared at the cig in his hand for a moment before shoving it back in the pack.
"Sigh, fucking hell......"
No curse in the world could vent the frustration boiling inside.
Kim Jong-chun barreled into the store, panting.
Customers and staff packed the place, but only one person registered.
His lips twitched. Finally, he managed to croak out the name.
"......Woo-yeon-ah."
Song Woo-yeon turned slowly.
The eyes that met his were sharp enough to cut—any second now.