Desert Naengmyeon Memories

A barren desert of nothing but sand and rock.

"Ugh, it's so hot I'm gonna die."

People flocked to the village oasis to escape the sweltering heat, and BenedictPlatoonDeployment was no exception.

"Already busting my ass catching scorpions, and now this damn weather on top."

Flap flap—

She fanned her top wildly, grimacing.

"Gotta get some ice cream or something."

Muttering under her breath, BenedictPlatoonDeployment trudged toward a street vendor near the oasis.

As she walked, a cheerful slurping sound drifted into her ears from somewhere.

—Slurrrp.

"……? What's that noise?"

—Slurp slurrrrp.

"What the? Where's it coming from?"

BenedictPlatoonDeployment scanned around for the source of the hearty sounds.

—Slurrrp. Ahhh!

Finally, she spotted someone at an unfamiliar street stall, devouring a bowl of naengmyeon with gusto.

He wore a turban and sunglasses, looking like some Middle Eastern oil baron.

…Or just an excited desert tourist.

—Slurrrrp.

He slurped noodles with insane skill. The buckwheat noodles vanished into his mouth like a black hole.

It was like watching a waterfall flow backward.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

—Slurp slurp.

Finishing the noodles, he lifted the bowl and gulped down the broth.

Some broth dribbled from his mouth, trickling down his neck and soaking his clothes.

Mukbang central.

—Ahhhh!

"Gulp."

How is he eating that so deliciously?

Her eyes caught a large sign behind him.

Scrawled in crooked letters.

"Definitely never saw that sign before…?"

Beneath it was a menu with just one item.

"…Info?"

As she tilted her head, the guy who'd finished his naengmyeon sidled up like they were old pals.

"Ah, the owner's a quirky one. Takes info as payment too."

"What kind of info?"

"Anything special you've seen or heard around Nimal Village—odd tracks, suspicious gadgets you can't identify, good hunting spots. Whatever."

"Aha. Thanks."

"No prob."

Leaving him to lick his empty bowl clean, BenedictPlatoonDeployment cautiously approached the counter.

"Um, hello?"

"Yes, customer!"

"Whoa, you scared me!"

A blond man in flashy white chef whites popped out from behind the counter.

"Ready to order, ma'am?"

"Uh, yeah. One naengmyeon please."

"Payment method?"

"Cash. Here."

"Got your 5 silver."

He took the coins and kindly showed her to a seat.

"Sit wherever's comfy. We'll bring the food out."

"Okay."

BenedictPlatoonDeployment picked a spot away from the mukbang pro, who was smacking his lips at his empty bowl.

Come to think of it, empty bowls were stacked neatly beside him.

'…? He ate all that by himself?'

The blond guy moved to bus the bowls, but Sunglasses grabbed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his arm.

"…Pfft."

Overhearing, BenedictPlatoonDeployment muttered in disbelief.

"A shop telling a customer to stop eating, and the customer insisting on one more. What a sight."

How good must it taste?

Growing bored waiting, Sunglasses struck up a casual chat.

"Haha, this place is that good."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Cools you right down—no heat left after."

"No kidding?"

Unexpected good news. She was dying of heat already.

Come to think of it, she was sweating buckets just sitting there, but Sunglasses was bone-dry and fresh.

"Food's up!"

Turning, she saw a white-haired woman in flashy white chef whites approaching with a tray.

"Oh! Sweet!"

"For the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lady over there."

"Aw…"

She set the naengmyeon in front of BenedictPlatoonDeployment, ignoring the sulking Sunglasses.

"Enjoy!"

"Thanks."

Naengmyeon in this backwater? She hadn't expected much—just something cool.

She gently mixed the sauce, toppings, and springy buckwheat noodles into the broth.

Then scooped a chopstickful into her mouth.

Slurrrp—

"…Huh?"

Her face went blank for a moment.

"No way. No freaking way."

Shaking her head, she sipped the broth with a spoon this time.

"……!"

It hit her like a hammer to the back of the head.

She knew this taste—from somewhere.

"No. It can't be. No way!"

She chewed noodles, lifted the bowl, and slurped broth till her mouth was full.

Chewing it all together—her special way of eating naengmyeon since childhood.

And the father who used to poke her chipmunk cheeks and call her cute.

His young voice echoed vividly in her ears.

'Haha, look at these cheeks. Like a squirrel.'

"……."

She had to admit it.

This was the naengmyeon from her long-lost memories—the one she'd searched for forever.

Drip—

Tears overflowed, tracing down her cheeks.

Long ago.

On sweltering summer weekends, the family went out to a neighborhood naengmyeon spot.

The best naengmyeon ever.

She counted down the days to weekends for it.

But one peaceful day, it turned into a charcoal-grilled ribs joint.

'Dad! Where's the naengmyeon place? It's right here!'

'Owner had circumstances. Moved somewhere.'

'Then where do we get our naengmyeon?'

'…There are other good places.'

'No! I don't want that! Only that naengmyeon!'

'Sejeong!'

'Don't stop me! I'll find it! I will!'

She scoured everywhere after, but never found it.

Was it really the taste she'd chased? Or just irretrievable childhood memories?

She gave up over a decade ago.

And now, she'd found that memory's naengmyeon—in a game, in this nowhere village.

Irretrievable memories my ass! It was this flavor!

Slurrrrp— Kah!

In seconds, she'd drained the bowl and rushed back to the counter, empty dish in hand.

"More! More please!"

"Yes, ma'am. Payment?"

"Info."

She slammed the bowl down with a clang.

"I'll tell you everything I know. Ears open."

Geum Taeyang pulled out a notepad and grinned.

"Of course, ma'am."

Ding!

The naengmyeon business was a hit. So packed, some folks sat on the ground to eat.

Ding!

Notifications pinged nonstop in response.

Info gathered, cash raked in, skill proficiency up.

And above all—fun! Thrilling! Just like the tteokbokki stall days.

"Heh heh heh."

One stone, four birds.

Only downside: one day only.

Plenty of info in a day, plus promises with the old man to swim with the big fish—no small pond.

And no repeating the Genesis Village tteokbokki cult fiasco.

Ugh. Still gave her chills.

"B— I mean, boss. Three more."

"Huh? Oh, right. Three naengmyeon confirmed."

Geum Taeyang took the order at the counter and relayed it to me.

I'd told them to call me boss during business.

He passed orders; I whipped up the exact amount.

My hands moved like machines—noodles in bowl, broth poured, naengmyeon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠done.

Tteoksoon-i dashed out to serve.

"Food's up!"

And Baek Bal Baek Jung—

"Hee hee, fire!"

Pew—

"Ack, cold!"

…Washed dishes nearby.

Lent him the [Crescent Dragon Horn] for washing; guess he goofed and got water down his shirt.

"……."

A Middle Eastern tycoon doing dishes? Hilarious sight.

Anyway, our streetside stall, [Wanna eat naengmyeon? Naengmyeon!], was killing it.

Worlds apart from solo days.

More hands meant division of labor.

I just cooked—no distractions. Pure peace. Efficiency soared.

As I machined out naengmyeon, my mind wandered.

Recalling what Baek Bal Baek Jung said earlier.

Perfect taste, but missing 2%.

Matched my thoughts on the boss's tteokbokki exactly.

In-game, "white powder" cheat seasoning filled that gap.

But IRL?

What real-world equivalent? Something that elevates flavor in tiny amounts without ruining the dish. Magic dust.

…Does that even exist?

Ding!

"Heh."

Always a sweet sound.

Then another ping—different vibe.

Ding!

"What?"

Fwoosh—

The world flashed white in an instant.

"Kyaak!"

Thud crash!

Startled, I tumbled off the chair.

Vision bleached white, ears ringing.

My mind spun, lost.

How long? A second? Minute? Hour? Time blurred.

Senses trickled back.

White world regained colors and shadows; back and head throbbed.

Blinked.

Three faces hovered—goldfish mouths flapping silently.

"————!"

"Wha— what're you saying?"

They froze, then Tteoksoon-i steeled her face, mouth gaping wide.

"————!"

"Can't hear! Louder!"

"————!"

"Louder!"

Hearing snapped back.

"Master dummy idiotiii!!!"

"……."

"……."

"…Dummy?"

"Uh… Master. Can you hear now?"

"Idiot?"

"Ah, w-well."

"…Dummy idiot?"

"Ah, haha. Hearing's good now. Glad, right?"

Tteoksoon-i glanced pleadingly at Baek Bal Baek Jung and Geum Taeyang, but they coughed and bailed.

"Ahem. Customers waiting."

"Ahem. Line's forming."

Just us in the kitchen.

Tteoksoon-i's pupils quaked like an earthquake.

Sweat poured.

I righted the chair, sat, and stared.

"……."

"M-Master, that was—"

"Dummy? Idiot?"

She gulped, then ventured carefully.

"I told you I admire you, right?"

"……."

"……."

"On your knees."

"Yes, sir."