How the Rank 0 Chef Survives 049: Night Falls on Genesis Village
Night had fallen on Genesis Village. Revelers laughed and caroused through the streets and central square, bathed in the warm glow of streetlamps. But in the village's dark back alleys, pale lamps flickered sporadically, and hardly a soul stirred.
The beginners' village always seemed so warm and bright, yet deep within it lurked shadowy backstreets where darkness gathered in the crevices.
A lone figure trudged through one such alley in Genesis Village. His face was completely shrouded in shadow beneath a large hood. After walking some distance, he stopped before a door. He glanced around cautiously, then knocked.
Knock knock.
A low, sunken voice came from inside.
"State the password."
"Sitting, it's Bamboo Mountain; standing, it's White Mountain."
Click. Creak—
The heavy door swung open. Snap—snap—
The hooded man and the doorman exchanged some kind of hand signal. It was a signature gesture passed among members of the Tteokbokki Cult: one hand extending index and middle fingers horizontally, the other raising the index finger to cross them—like two tteokbokki rice cakes skewered on a toothpick. Their unique greeting.
Stepping inside, the building's interior greeted him with a hazy glow. Another figure approached, offering the same hand sign. Snap—snap—
"You're here, Gwisinigo Kalori."
"Yeah, Senior Twerk Machine. Any harvest?"
"He talked."
"Everything?"
"Not quite."
"We'll see when we get there."
"Follow me."
The two descended creaking stairs into a dim underground chamber. Senior Twerk Machine grabbed a torch from the wall and led the way down a corridor like something out of a medieval dungeon. The damp stone walls enclosed the basement prison, where water dripped steadily from some leak, mingled with occasional unidentified groans.
Finally, Senior Twerk Machine halted before a cell and stepped inside. There sat a man bound to a chair, head slumped forward.
Senior Twerk Machine gave a nod, and a guard-like figure splashed a bucket over him.
Splash—!
"Guh— pffft!"
To the dazed man, Senior Twerk Machine said coolly,
"Sweet dreams?"
Water dripped from the man's hair. Senior Twerk Machine brought the torch close, illuminating his face. The thug glared back with eyes burning fierce.
He was the axe-wielding escort from the transport job to Shin-dong Village: AxeMan.
"AxeMan. Ready to talk now?"
"Kahk—ptui."
The spit clung thickly to Senior Twerk Machine's pant leg.
"……."
Senior Twerk Machine eyed it silently, then signaled the guard. The guard hefted a torture device from the back.
"N-no! Stop!"
AxeMan cried out. But it was too late. The guard activated the horrific contraption again.
Greeeeek—!!
The chilling sound filled the cell.
"Gaaahhh!"
AxeMan thrashed wildly against his bonds. "Gah! Stop! Stop it!"
The chair rattled violently, finally toppling over under his struggles.
Thud!
"Enough."
Senior Twerk Machine raised a hand, and the guard set down what looked like a spoon scraping a pot bottom. He crouched before the fallen chair, holding the torch close. AxeMan groaned in agony.
"Nngh… you demons…"
"Feeling chatty now?"
"…Ptui."
"……."
Senior Twerk Machine stood wordlessly. The guard righted the chair.
"…He really talked?"
Gwisinigo Kalori asked, eyeing AxeMan's hate-filled glare.
"Yeah. Says he did the escort job with Hura-nim."
"For real?"
"Cross-verified. Solid."
"What?"
AxeMan's eyes darted wildly at the mention of cross-verification—meaning his comrades were here too.
But the two ignored his reaction, continuing.
"Won't budge on the destination, though."
"Couldn't crack the big one."
"Just a matter of time."
"Time's always the issue. Who knows where Hura-nim's headed next. We gotta track his footsteps fast."
They turned to AxeMan, still bound.
"You really won't talk?"
"We're all busy. Let's make this easy."
But AxeMan bellowed,
"I won't get in Hura-nim's way!"
"Oh dear. Seems there's a misunderstanding."
Senior Twerk Machine stroked AxeMan's shoulder smoothly, circling him slowly.
"We're devotees of Hura-nim. The last thing we'd do is trouble him—not even a hair's breadth."
"Bullshit!"
"Tch. No reasoning with you."
Senior Twerk Machine scowled.
"How could trash like you grasp the lofty ideals of our Tteokbokki Cult?"
Tsking in disdain, he shouted toward the door.
"Bring 'em in!"
The cell door opened, and two men were dragged inside. AxeMan's eyes bulged at the sight.
"RollingRolling! That's Chairman Woosan But!"
"Boss…"
"Ngh…"
They were RollingRolling and That's Chairman Woosan But, Hura's fellow escorts. They looked as haggard as AxeMan.
"You bastards! What the hell did you do?!"
But as if he were the aggrieved party, Senior Twerk Machine roared back.
"Who're you yelling at? While we waged righteous war against fake tteokbokki, what were you doing? Stuffing your faces with Hura-nim's tteokbokki three meals a day! I should've tagged along!"
"Senior Twerk Machine. Calm down. No personal grudges."
"…Tch."
At Gwisinigo Kalori's measured restraint, he backed off. She gestured to the back.
"Bring it."
The guard carried in a covered dish: a silver dome-shaped lid over something round. He placed it carefully on the central table.
"Wh-what's that?"
AxeMan swallowed hard.
Gwisinigo Kalori indifferently lifted the lid.
"See for yourself."
The sweet-spicy aroma of tteokbokki exploded into the cramped cell.
"……!"
The three bound men's eyes widened, noses flaring greedily.
"Th-that's…!"
"Right. 'That' tteokbokki from Hura-nim."
"Nostalgia Tteokbokki!"
Hura's tteokbokki was also called Nostalgia Tteokbokki for evoking precious memories in those who ate it.
"How do you have that?!"
"Scraped it up before Hura-nim left, preserved fresh with magic. Good as newly made."
Gwisinigo Kalori wafted the dish under AxeMan's nose. Her round glasses glinted menacingly from under her hood.
"Hungry?"
"……."
AxeMan stared blankly, entranced.
"One word. Where Hura-nim went. The transport job's destination. Spill it, and it's yours."
"……!"
AxeMan's eyes shook.
"Boss! No!"
"Yeah! Don't! They'll chase Hura-nim!"
"Shut up!"
Senior Twerk Machine snatched pot and spoon from the guard, scraping viciously by RollingRolling and That's Chairman Woosan But's ears.
Greeeeek—!!
"Gaaah!"
"Agh! Please stop!"
Gwisinigo Kalori dangled a piece teasingly, whispering to AxeMan,
"Last of Hura-nim's tteokbokki. Huge investment for us."
"……!"
"One word, all yours."
"…Gulp."
"And we're not out to bother Hura-nim. Is it wrong for fans to seek the idol they revere? Does that mean no fan should ever meet their favorite singer, author, actor, or chef?"
"Th-that's…"
"Hura-nim would be thrilled. Might even whip up tteokbokki on the spot. What do you think? Don't you wanna join the Tteokbokki Cult, get blessed with his tteokbokki? Follow his glorious footsteps?"
"……!"
AxeMan's eyes quaked like an earthquake. Watching, Senior Twerk Machine marveled at Gwisinigo Kalori's silver tongue. He'd just wanted intel; she was recruiting him outright. Whip and carrot perfectly balanced—like a devil's whisper.
It was coercive blackmail, yet framed as immense benevolence. AxeMan's lips parted slowly.
Gwisinigo Kalori's eyes flashed. 'Yes! Spill!'
But they clamped shut; he bit his lip till it bled.
Seeing blood trickle, Gwisinigo Kalori yanked the dish back in shock.
"……! What the hell?!"
AxeMan licked the blood, grinning.
"Heh. Almost fell for it."
"You're insane!"
"I remember Hura-nim's cooking. Above all, Hura-nim himself. He didn't just revive forgotten memories—he gifted new ones."
"New ones?"
"Tteok grilled on the cart, that unforgettable canyon fight with a ranker. Can't let you scum chase him!"
Gwisinigo Kalori's face twisted.
"Fine! Don't talk, idiot! Your turn's over. Tteokbokki goes to them."
She approached RollingRolling and That's Chairman Woosan But with the dish. But they rejected it outright.
"We're stuffed!"
"Yeah! Three meals of tteokbokki daily—we're sick of it!"
"You… you bastards…!"
Fuming, Gwisinigo Kalori slammed the dish on the table, adjusting her glasses.
"Fine! Then no problem if I devour the last of Hura-nim's tteokbokki!"
"……!"
"What?"
"Crazy bitch!"
Without hesitation, Gwisinigo Kalori shoveled it in ravenously.
"Hey! Stop!"
"Stop it!"
"She's nuts!?"
Cheeks bulging like a squirrel, she snorted through a full mouth.
"Why? Stho good? You thaid it wath delithioush earlier, right?"
"Wait! You said it was the last of Hura-nim's! Stop her!"
AxeMan yelled at the other cultists, but they just watched silently. Meanwhile, she crammed more in.
"Oh no! Such a waste!"
"Not savoring each bite!"
"Demonic!"
Stuffing sloppily, she mumbled,
"If it wath real, I'd thare. But it'th not delithioush."
She sped up, inhaling it.
"St-stop! I'll talk!"
But she didn't slow.
"Shin-dong Village! Shin-dong Village!"
AxeMan squeezed his eyes shut, shouting. "Shin-dong Village. Please… stop…"
Gwisinigo Kalori chewed and swallowed.
"Route?"
"Crossed Ryuken Gorge."
"Good. Rest is yours. Untie them."
She wiped her mouth and stood. AxeMan, RollingRolling, and That's Chairman Woosan But approached the remnants with teary faces.
"Sob… Sorry, Hura-nim."
"It's okay. Holding out this long was great, boss."
"Yeah. He'll understand."
"Yeah…"
They weakly skewered and ate the rest.
"……!"
"……!"
"……!"
As Gwisinigo Kalori headed out, AxeMan blocked her.
"You bitch! This ain't Hura-nim's tteokbokki!"
The smell was close, taste decent—but anyone who'd had the real deal knew instantly. Not Nostalgia Tteokbokki.
Gwisinigo Kalori smirked.
"Dumbass. Think I'd scarf Hura-nim's real tteokbokki like that?"
"……!"
"Our research team's closest recreation. Nail the smell, but taste? Impossible."
She left them dazed, striding out.
"To Shin-dong Village. Through Ryuken Gorge."
Would you like to log in as character 'Hura'?
"Yes."
Welcome to the Fantasy World.
Whoosh—
Wind rustled, and lush green forest filled Hura's vision.
…Along with the scent of burning.
"Sniff sniff. What's that smell?"
Hura turned to see two men diligently grilling something in the distance.
"…Bro."
"What."
"How many times is this?"
"…Stopped counting after 30."
"So tough."
"Hura-nim made it look easy."
Hura watched them a moment, then spoke.
"…What're you doing?"
They lit up and rushed over.
"Hura-nim!"
"Enjoy the meal?"
"Uh, yeah."
Hura scratched his head awkwardly at their enthusiasm.
"What's on the menu today?"
"Ah, sorry. Got somewhere to be—no cooking today."
"Where to?"
"Demon King's Castle."
"……!"
"……!"
They exchanged glances. 'He's really going for it.'
"Must be important?"
Beda asked carefully.
"Yes."
At Hura's firm reply, they nodded to each other—they'd prepared for this.
"Then we'll go too."
"Huh?"
"Long, dangerous road to the Demon King's Castle."
"Tons of super-strong monsters. Too rough solo."
Hura's face brightened at the unexpected aid.
"Really?"
"Of course! After all your meals, we can't sit idle."
"We'll get you there quick—no worries."
"Thanks a ton."
Hura beamed, bowing gratefully. Then, as if remembering,
"Oh, one more coming along…"
"Who?"
"Well…"
Vwooom—
A sound sliced the sky. She rocketed in, blue light pulsing from her soles, back, and palms.
"Wheeheehee! To the Demon King's Castle!"
Beda and Baek Bal Baek Jung froze solid upon recognizing her.