Nostalgia's Irresistible Bite
A man with dyed yellow hair and brown skin wandered the square, clutching a paper cup filled with tteokbokki.
"Mmm—how can it be this delicious? It takes me right back to my childhood."
He wore a crisp white suit, oblivious to the red tteokbokki sauce splattering everywhere as he devoured it with reckless abandon. The aroma wafting from his cup assaulted the nostrils of every passerby, hitting their olfactory senses like a tidal wave.
"…Gulp."
Even 'SeniorTreadmill', fresh from a day of hunting rabbits, wasn't immune. Starved after smacking bunnies all day, he wiped away his drool without thinking and called out to Geum Taeyang.
"Hey—excuse me. Where'd you get that tteokbokki?"
"Oh, this tteokbokki?"
"Yeah. That red stuff you're eating right now."
He couldn't tear his eyes away as he asked. Geum Taeyang stared at him blankly for a moment, then skewered a piece of tteokbokki on his toothpick and held it out.
"Wanna try one?"
"Ah! Thank you!"
SeniorTreadmill snatched it up without a second thought, drool practically pouring from his mouth.
"…!"
The tteokbokki melted away in his mouth before he could even savor it, vanishing without a trace. At the same moment, a faint scent brushed past his nose.
This smell…!
It was fleeting, but SeniorTreadmill caught it. He had to. It was the exact aroma from the neighborhood tteokbokki stall he'd pass as a kid—the best in the world, no contest.
"This tteokbokki! Where?! Where the hell are they selling it?!"
He practically lunged at Geum Taeyang, grabbing for his collar. Geum Taeyang pointed casually with his toothpick in one direction.
"See over there? Under the shade of those trees."
"How much?"
"5 copper."
"Got it. Thanks."
"No problem."
The line was already snaking long by the time he got there. SeniorTreadmill wiped his dribbling saliva and joined the queue.
As he waited, glancing around, he spotted more people clutching paper cups of tteokbokki.
"Sniff… Mom…"
"Ugh… my first love, Jihye… hope you're doing well?"
"Wah… if only I could go back… I'd buy Bitcoin in a heartbeat…"
They were all eating through tears.
"…Gulp."
What kind of flavor does this even have…?
SeniorTreadmill swallowed hard, watching the line shrink.
Soon enough, it was his turn.
"How many?"
The black-haired chef asked with a friendly smile.
"Uh, just one for me."
"Sure thing. 5 copper."
"Here ya go."
"Enjoy!"
SeniorTreadmill took the double-layered paper cup, heat seeping through despite the insulation. He grabbed the toothpick, speared a smooth piece of tteok, and bit off half.
Chewy—
"Whoa! …This taste!"
As the spicy sauce stung his tongue, a memory flooded his mind.
'Jimin-ah, Mom's been so busy with work lately, I haven't had time for snacks. I'll tell the tteokbokki place across the street, so grab one after school. I'll pay later.'
'Okay!'
School ended. He kicked his indoor shoes into his bag and headed to the stall.
'Auntie! One tteokbokki please!'
'Oh, Jimin! It's fresh and hot. Blow on it before you eat.'
'Yes ma'am!'
Steam rose in the cold winter air. He huffed and puffed, taking a bite.
'Hoo—slurp—hoo—.'
'Take it slow, kiddo.'
Jimin demolished it, panting from the heat and spice—or maybe both—unable to stop because it was just that good.
"…Ugh."
Now all grown up as SeniorTreadmill, Jimin teared up, eating it the same frantic way.
Those were the days. No worries, just pure joy over a 500-won tteokbokki.
The tear-soaked bites were seasoned with irreplaceable nostalgia, filling his mouth.
Cooking Charm has been activated.
List of those affected by Cooking Charm:
- SeniorTreadmill
- MyLimeFuckingAwesomeOrangeTree
- GwisinigoKalroli
- …
Hearing the nonstop pings, Hura grinned in satisfaction.
Right on plan.
And in his hand was that familiar white powder.
* * *
"Got the pot! Fill it to the brim with as much tteokbokki as it'll hold! I'll pay extra!"
"Haha… sorry, but there's a line, so just this much."
"Aww."
Business was booming—and a blast. Margins were slim at 5 copper a pop, but the thrill kept him going nonstop for days. His frying pans had multiplied to six to keep up. No time for meals amid the rush, yet he wasn't hungry at all.
Some faces and IDs started looking familiar.
"Back again, SeniorTreadmill."
"Haha, too good, Hura. Lost count."
No need for Geum Taeyang to lure customers anymore; crowds swarmed on their own. He helped scoop tteokbokki and take payments.
"Three tteokbokki. 1 silver 5 copper."
"Here!"
He'd blown past the quest's 100-customer goal ages ago, but it was too fun to quit.
"Taeyang! More ingredients—go buy!"
"Yes, Master! Be right back!"
In the frenzy, camera- and mic-wielding folks showed up.
"Hello! This is Panwol Emo Jjomo, bringing you all the fantasy world news! We're in Genesis Village, where a newbie dish is blowing up. Time for interviews. Hi there!"
"Uh, hi."
He greeted the sudden mic awkwardly, blinking to process.
The female reporter fired away without pause.
"We heard about tteokbokki so good it brings tears. You the chef?"
"Yep, that's me. But customers are waiting—mind if we chat later? My helper's grabbing supplies; he'll be back soon."
"Of course! I'll interview some customers meanwhile. You in the black clothes! Yes! Quick interview?"
She bounded off eagerly. He hurried to fill cups, muttering inwardly.
Am I on TV right now? Is this a dream?
It didn't feel real.
"Uh, two tteokbokki."
"Coming right up."
Before the surreal high could settle, he scooped away.
* * *
Following Dahyun's guidance, he'd sold all the imperial gold coins from the treasure chest. They fetched multiples of standard gold's value at her trusted buyer.
The cash converted to real-world money and hit his account.
"Whoa… how much is this? I can pay back the deposit!"
The deposit his parents loaned for the apartment—a hefty sum he'd despaired over. Combined with treasure and tteokbokki profits, it was covered.
"Damn… how much did I make? Tteokbokki stall full-time?"
The total gaped his mouth. He'd aimed for maybe 50,000 won from the quest, but profits soared past a million. Days of nonstop work helped, but still unexpected.
Fearing it'd vanish like coins that always rolled from his grasp, he wired it to his dad's account pronto.
"Phew—."
The weight on his chest lightened. Unconsciously, it'd been bugging him.
Bzzz—
Dad called soon after.
"Hello?"
-What's this money?
"Repaying your deposit loan."
-Deposit? Where'd a kid like you get this? You steal it?
"Pfft, no way."
-Robbery then?
"…No! I worked hard for it."
-What work?
"Part-time gigs and stuff."
-Bull. No part-time pays this.
"Anyway, it's legit. Don't worry. Gotta run."
-Hura, wait—
Click.
Parents always hated games; better not mention it. They'd flip.
Time to clock in. Game stalls earned more, but no guarantees. Life's no jackpot—it's steady plays. Need backups. Quitting meant hiring anyway.
He stretched and stood.
Off to work.
* * *
"I'm heading out then."
"Sure, good work, Dahyun."
Most tasks were remote via Dream Gear, but some needed office visits. Dahyun wrapped up and headed home.
Swing by the convenience store.
Tech made delivery and meal kits easy, but she loved conbini food. Probably those sneaky school munchies nostalgia, she figured.
She rotated stores for their unique goods.
SU Conbini…
Lately, she'd skipped one: SU. Food was fine, but the counter clerk bugged her.
She'd buy heaps, embarrassed around acquaintances. No one complained, but still.
SU's clerk looked eerily like someone she knew, so she'd avoided it.
Craving their chicken galbi bento today…
Some days hit specific. Today: SU's chicken galbi.
Fantasy World players change looks, even gender. No way it's him!
She set course for SU.
Step, step.
Walking, her mind wandered to him. Post-job-change, griping about "enjoy-pan" greetings, loving inventory convenience, odd queries daily chats.
She'd log in early, waiting.
…Something wrong?
No queries lately. She'd extended shifts, but zilch. Wilted, she'd log off.
Bored of me now?
She slunk into SU, moping.
"Welcome~"
She nodded absently—then froze at the familiar greeting.
Looks aside, the voice matched.
"Something wrong?"
Hura eyed the frozen customer, head still bowed.
"N-no. Thought I saw a coin on the floor. Nothing. Haha."
She ducked behind shelves.
No, can't be. Coincidence. Imagination.
Shaking her head, she shopped.
Items picked, she approached the counter—and stared blankly at the clerk.
Scratch, scratch.
He practiced knife cuts on the counter with a cutter.
She examined his face: thick brows, monolids, slicked-back hair, sharp jaw, balanced nose and lips. That cool, impassive vibe.
Definitely him.
The customer who'd given her strawberry candy day one. Grumbled through Gordon's homework diligently.
Devastated at chef failure, then back with unheard-of "Alley Chef" class.
Hidden class, yet clueless what it meant, eyes wide.
Queried weirdly about "enjoy-pan," excitedly shared legendary weapon and treasure tales.
Alley Chef, Hura.
Him.