Chapter 89: The Weight of a Restaurant (2)
Chapter 89: The Weight of a Restaurant (2)
Kaya’s face froze. No one could tell what she was feeling from the tremor in her eyes, nor whether her rapidly beating heart was being driven by anger or fear. Breathing became difficult. Her clenched fists shook, and a rough breath escaped between her lips. Beneath her fringe, her fierce eyes gleamed.
Jessica naturally raised her camera to capture the expression, but Martin quickly stepped between them and covered the lens with his hand. Jessica looked at him with a neutral expression.
“Oh, it’s been a while, Martin.”
“...Why are you here? No, let me change the question. How did you know we were coming here?”
“Come on. A reporter can’t reveal her source.”
“I see. But taking photographs without permission doesn’t strike me as proper reporting either.”
“Why are you acting like this? Between us...”
A dazzling smile appeared on Jessica’s face, as bright as her blond hair. Most men might have been moved by a smile like that, but Martin was not. He knew plenty of people who had been deceived by it. The smile was fake anyway, just like the blond colour of her dyed hair.
“I don’t think there’s anything strange about me acting this way between us. Back off for now. We didn’t request an interview, and we have no intention of giving you one. Or would you rather I file a complaint with Daily Street?”
“Why are you being like this? Don’t scare me. Do mice run out of a warehouse just because the owner frightens them a little? They only need to fill their stomachs.”
“And once they’re full, they start thinking the warehouse belongs to them. They breed and chew holes into the walls. Do I have to hand over my warehouse to a mere mouse?” Martin’s eyes turned cold.
Jessica widened her eyes, rolled them slightly, then shrugged as though she had no choice. “I suppose I shouldn’t expect any kindness from you. Fine. I’ll leave for now. But remember, the mouse is still hungry. No matter how frightening the owner is, if the mouse gets hungry enough, eventually it’ll chew through the wall and eat the grain.”
“Then the owner will set mousetraps.” Martin answered irritably.
Jessica smiled brightly, offered no reply, and turned away. Her gaze rested briefly on Kaya before moving to Minjoon.
“Jo! I’m a fan. I’m cheering for you. Go all the way and win.”
“Just go. Don’t you realise you’re interfering with our work?”
“All right, all right. I’m leaving. Ah, and Miss Lotus, sorry for shoving a microphone in your face right away. Next time, I’ll ask more calmly.”
Kaya was just about to raise her middle finger in response when Minjoon firmly caught her hand. She turned towards him, her eyes red. Neither of them needed to say anything. From the grip alone, each could guess what the other meant.
“...Let go. I’ve calmed down.” Kaya’s voice was much steadier now.
After what had just happened, it would have been stranger if she had remained completely unaffected, but Minjoon slowly released her fist. She bit her lip and glared at Jessica’s retreating back while Chloe patted her shoulder.
“Don’t mind her. There are plenty of people like that.”
“I don’t.”
Despite her answer, her gaze remained razor-sharp. Kaya sighed and rubbed her hands together. The sensation of Minjoon holding her hand still seemed to linger. His hand had been rough yet soft, a strange combination, but she had not disliked the feeling.
...Why didn’t I dislike it?
However she looked at it, he was still a man. Normally, even if a man touched her because he was trying to help, she would not have felt pleased about it. Yet the moment Minjoon caught her hand, the feeling had been strangely profound. Was it because he felt like a real older brother? Or...
Kaya’s gaze shifted towards Minjoon. Numerous thoughts about him passed through her mind before eventually narrowing into one.
Right. The important thing is whether he goes back or not. It’s a country where you never know when war might break out...
Compared with that, the problem with Tess Gilly suddenly seemed minor. Minjoon noticed her staring and gave her a puzzled look.
“What is it? Why are you looking at me with those pitiful eyes?”
“Don’t interpret other people’s expressions however you want. Hurry up. I can’t go inside because you’re blocking the way.”
“...Why are you suddenly in such a hurry?”
Minjoon started towards the restaurant, On the Lake. Inside the dining room, the judges were seated at separate tables. Two empty chairs had been placed opposite each judge. Joseph, seated at the centre table, raised a hand when the contestants entered.
“Ah, you’re here. Sit wherever you’ll be most comfortable. Choose the person you feel most at ease with.”
Despite the slightly mischievous wording, Anderson did not hesitate for even a second before sitting across from Joseph.
Minjoon paused. He did not particularly want to sit with Emily. It was not that he disliked her, but being around her felt burdensome. Alan and Joseph, on the other hand, were people he found easier to rely on.
In the end, Jo Minjoonse Alan’s table. Chloe saw him move and was about to follow, but Kaya got there one step ahead of her, sat beside Minjoon, and crossed her arms. While Chloe hesitated, Sasha took the remaining seat beside Anderson. Naturally, Chloe and Ivanna ended up at Emily’s table.
Once everyone was seated, each judge began speaking quietly enough that only the contestants at their own table could hear.
“Do you know what restaurant this is?”
At Alan’s question, Minjoon and Kaya both shook their heads. There was no way Minjoon would know a restaurant in such a distant place, while Kaya had never had any reason to take an interest in an expensive restaurant like this.
“On the Lake. It doesn’t have a Michelin star, but that isn’t because the food isn’t good. Michelin inspectors simply don’t come here. That’s how strong its reputation is. Look around.”
The interior of the restaurant was bright and clean, dominated by white. Unlike restaurants that tried to manufacture atmosphere by keeping everything dim, sunlight poured through the large windows, and the lamps hanging from the ceiling were bright enough to make their eyes ache.
The most impressive feature was the view across the lake. The blue water glittered outside the windows, and simply looking at it gave them the peaceful feeling of having gone away on holiday. A moment later, several dishes of fish and seafood were placed in front of them. Given that the restaurant stood partly over a lake, no one found that especially surprising.
What caught Minjoon’s attention was the item placed beside each dish.
...A recipe?
This time, what he was looking at was not a system window. A sheet of paper containing the recipe had been placed beside the food. When he glanced towards the other tables, he saw the same arrangement there, though the dishes themselves were different. Joseph had pasta and risotto in front of him, while Emily’s dishes were clearly appetisers.
The moment Minjoon saw that, he could roughly guess what the mission would involve.
Joseph raised his voice so everyone could hear. “The dishes in front of you are the focus of today’s mission. Tonight, you will work as chefs in this restaurant and prepare the dishes you’ve been served. Starting now, you have four hours. In that time, you must memorise the recipes and master them.”
“...Are the teams divided according to the tables?”
“Yes. Exactly. Your performance will be evaluated through the customers’ opinions. If we receive a complaint that a dish doesn’t taste the way it normally does, the person responsible for that dish will have to compensate for the cost of the ingredients used. You cannot leave even a single customer dissatisfied. Understood?”
The words placed considerable pressure on them. While Minjoon was thinking, Sasha raised her hand. Joseph looked towards her.
“Go ahead.”
“...Will the customers know who cooked each dish?”
“No. You don’t need to worry about that. We will tell them that Grand Chef contestants are cooking tonight, but we intend to keep it secret who prepared which dish.”
Sasha sighed in relief. If the identity of each cook were revealed, there was always the possibility that the judging would become a popularity contest. In that case, Kaya and Minjoon would have an obvious advantage, so the others could hardly help worrying about it.
Minjoon cut into the well-cooked salmon and put a piece into his mouth. There was a faint fishiness, but it seemed intentional rather than the result of poor preparation. Because the fish had been roasted with butter, even that slight fishy aroma became appetising.
The cod mousse was similar. The characteristic aroma of cod came through strongly, and its soft texture made the flavour even clearer. Still, that was all. Perhaps because the restaurant was still developing, none of the dishes were overwhelmingly delicious.
That’s what makes it difficult.
Making something tasty was not particularly hard. Even an amateur could produce decent food by following a recipe. But unless someone had lived with a genuine interest in cooking, making food that astonished people was a different matter entirely.
Even a restaurant expected to receive a Michelin star was not necessarily extraordinary in every respect. A one-star restaurant, in particular, was often simply a very good restaurant rather than something overwhelmingly impressive.
“Come to think of it, I heard there was quite a commotion earlier. Are you all right?”
In the middle of eating, Alan looked at Kaya and asked. The corner of her mouth twitched before she answered.
“I’m fine.”
“...You really have grown, though. If this had happened before, you’d probably still be furious.”
“Am I some kind of monster that does nothing but get angry?”
Kaya answered as though the question itself were ridiculous and ate a mussel dipped in cream sauce. Alan forced a laugh. Had she already forgotten how she had behaved like a frightened chicken earlier?
He looked towards Minjoon.
“You really have your hands full.”
Minjoon laughed awkwardly, but Kaya interpreted Alan’s remark differently. The words immediately brought her thoughts back to Minjoon eventually returning to Korea. Once she imagined bullets flying and bombs exploding there, she could barely taste the food in front of her.
In the end, Kaya took out her phone and searched the internet. Her query was simple: Requirements for refugee application.
There was no information about applying as a refugee from Korea.
Alan frowned when he noticed what she was doing.
“Kaya. Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Ah, wait. There’s something I urgently need to check.”
Her blunt reply irritated him for a moment, but honestly, it was difficult to expect perfect table manners from Kaya, who had barely had opportunities to dine in places like this. Besides, she had said it was urgent, so he hesitated to scold her.
Kaya opened a question site and typed:
Q: What’s the fastest way for a Korean to immigrate to the United States?
After posting the question, she turned off the screen. For now, she wanted at least to think about it this way. War. Even to Kaya, who had lived a harsh life, the word itself felt frighteningly heavy.
I thought Minjoon had lived comfortably.
But considering that he had even served as a soldier, perhaps his life had been much harsher than she had assumed. The thought gave her an unexpected sense of kinship with him.
Minjoon noticed her staring again and turned towards her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“...I won’t complain so much from now on.”
“No, seriously, what’s wrong with you all of a sudden? Did I do something?”
“Did anyone say you did? I just... Ah, wait. Someone replied.”
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Kaya quickly took it out and narrowed her eyes at the answers. There were so many that she felt relieved simply seeing them, but like many people who had not received much formal education, she struggled with complicated wording.
“Employment-based immigration... family-based immigration. Employment immigration takes several years, and the requirements are strict... It looks like family immigration can be done much faster.”
As far as Kaya knew, however, Minjoon had no relatives with American citizenship. She was about to sigh in disappointment when the final part of one answer suddenly caught her attention.
A: If you don’t have family in the United States, the fastest option is marrying an American citizen. Of course, that only works if you actually have someone you can marry.