How the Rank 0 Chef Survives 065: Tteokbokki Frenzy
"Mm."
Afternoon at Dahyun's Snacks. The snack bar was buzzing with customers.
"Don't push!"
"Mister! I was here before this kid!"
"Kid? How old are you?"
"Middle school third year!"
"I'm high school second year."
"Must be nice being ancient."
"What'd you say, punk?"
The place was even more packed than usual. And the star of the show by far? Tteokbokki.
"Three tteokbokki!"
"Pack two servings of tteokbokki for me!"
"Tteokbokki for four to go!"
Tteokbokki always dominated the menu, outselling everything else. But today? It was on another level. Eight out of every ten orders.
"Why's the tteokbokki so damn good today?"
"Whoa, it turned out perfect today!"
"Check out that chew."
"Doesn't seem different from other days, but it's weirdly delicious?"
Near the shop, clusters of students clutched cup tteokbokki, milling about in awe as they devoured it. Some finished and charged back to the counter.
"Can't help it. Gotta get one more. It's killer today."
"Dude, more?"
"Yeah. Don't stop me."
"Look at the crowd. No way we're getting out before lunch ends."
"Nah, plenty of time."
"Bullshit. Stop flexing and let's go."
"Scared?"
"...Not scared."
"I got skills. Just gotta weave in."
"Weave in my ass. You'll get trampled."
"Watch and learn, bro. Be right back. Hup!"
Thwack—A high school boy dives into the crowd with gusto, only to bounce right back out.
"Urk."
"...Idiot."
"Tch. Some kinda barrier?"
The counter was pure chaos. And amid it all, a valiant effort to restore order was underway.
"Get in line!"
"Line up, please!"
"Come onnn! Line up!"
"Line up, you overgrown weeds! There's tape on the floor!"
...With zero success, apparently.
"Mm-hmm."
A figure darting busily back and forth, soaked in sweat. That frantic silhouette somehow looked poignant.
Watching Hura's back, Son Da-eun nibbled her tteokbokki.
"...This is seriously good."
With nearly every order tteokbokki, the inside was comparatively chill. Munching away, she roughly counted the customers.
"Whew—packed house."
One-and-a-half times the usual crowd.
"Word spreads fast."
Students skipping morning classes or slipping out during breaks must've dragged friends along. First day with the new sauce, and already this?
"Tomorrow's gonna be worse."
Son Da-eun glanced at Hura's back and smiled faintly. Her affectionate gaze slid over his sweat-drenched shirt.
Honestly, she hadn't expected this much. No mistakes, sell food like always—that was plenty. Expecting more from an employee was greedy, a burden. This was her shop, not his.
Employees got paid to do the job, nothing more. No forcing love for someone else's business.
Past hires had clocked in, done their bit, clocked out. No complaints from her.
But Hura? She'd figured a month to settle in. Nope—one day. Day two? Suggestions for improvements.
Day two, and he'd puzzled out ways to make tteokbokki better. And it worked.
Plus, ideas to streamline the shop. Each proposal screamed deep thought.
"Exhausted on day one. When'd he find time?"
Son Da-eun smiled warmly. He treated her shop like his own. How could she not feel affection?
"Everyone! Please line uppp!"
But these ravenous teens ignored Hura's pleas, thrusting cash like shut up and take it.
"Hee-hee."
Son Da-eun savored her tteokbokki and her fleeting break.
"Whoever made this, damn good tteokbokki."
Same ingredients, same recipe—cooks yield different results. That's their personality, their skill.
She'd tried MSG in tteokbokki before. Back when stigma was harsher, just a test or two.
Not like this taste.
"...Weird."
That faint feeling from Hura's first-day batch resurfaced. She'd brushed it off then. Now? Different story.
Hura's food stirred old memories somehow. Nostalgia for bygone days.
For her, her late mother's tteokbokki. She couldn't pinpoint why, but it hit.
Faint now, but if he grew as a chef... maybe vivid flashbacks.
"Feels like a movie."
Son Da-eun shook her head, finishing her tteokbokki.
"Order here!"
"Coming~ One sec~"
Break over, she headed inside to take orders.
* * *
3:55 p.m. Customers thinning out. Not like lunch rush, but a few lingered at the counter.
New tteokbokki keeping stragglers coming.
After serving the last, Hura plopped onto a chair. Counter heat was brutal—sweat city again.
"...Word spreads fast."
How'd they all find out? Tteokbokki cartel at school?
"Hee-hee, right?"
Plop—A soft laugh, something settling on his shoulder.
"Oh, boss."
"Good work today."
"Sweaty and gross."
"Gross? Nah~"
She kneaded his shoulders.
Knead-knead—knead-knead—
"Haaaah..."
"Ahaha, soul leaving your body?"
Her clear laugh brushed his ear. It reminded him of someone.
Final pats on the shoulders.
"Alright, head home! It's past four."
"Yesss..."
Hura untied his apron, splashed cold water on his face in the bathroom. Washed sweat from face and neck.
Toweled his damp hair roughly, prepped to leave.
"Boss."
"Yes?"
"Got any barriers or something? For lining up."
"Maybe. I'll check."
"...Please have some."
"Ahaha, if not, I'll buy a few. No worries."
"Thanks."
"No prob. See ya tomorrow~"
"Yep. Heading out."
Hand wave from the boss behind him, Hura stepped out.
Shiver-shiver—Legs wobbling on their own. Whole body ached like bruises.
"Walking'll fix it."
Out of the alley, onto the wide avenue. Spacious sidewalk blending into the park—perfect for strolling. Joggers everywhere.
"Me too?"
Pat-pat, a few jogging steps—
"Urk."
Legs gave out. Faceplant.
"......"
Super embarrassing.
"Oh, hey ant."
Chatted the ant hauling food mid-fall. Smooth.
"......"
Jogging home? Gonna take forever...
* * *
Hura shuffled into the convenience store.
Ding-a-ling—
"Welcome~"
Cool face, warm voice. Mansu, now a pro clerk.
Hura picked a fight right away.
"Tch! How insolent!"
"...What, customer?"
Mansu clocked him, asked flatly.
Talking potato customer power surged. Total Karen?
"Customer arrives, yet no barefoot welcome?"
"...Want a barefoot greeting?"
"Usual!"
"Nicely now, or grab it yourself."
"Hmph. Fine."
Two chilled canned coffees from the fridge, onto the counter. Thousand-won bill tossed.
"Keep the change!"
"...You keeping this up?"
"My little joy!"
"My little hell."
"Steal my joy, you fiend?!"
"......"
Did he think Hura lugged thousand-won bills for fun? Mansu smacked his lips, pocketed the bill.
Grabbed a can casually.
"Dude, back again?"
"What? Your bleak future?"
"That goddess from yesterday! Saw her working out today?"
"......"
Mouth agape. Hura sighed at the dumb face, shook his head.
Foolish. If true goddess, no glance at talking potato.
Why cling to false hope?
But he kept quiet. Better Mansu chase nameless goddess than Dahyun. Good for everyone.
No favors from Dahyun needed, she avoids potato.
"Yeah. Good luck with goddess over angel."
Downed the rest of his coffee.
"Later."
"Yeah, bye."
Dumb laugh trailed him out.
"Heh-heh-heh, who to pick? Goddess? Or angel? Eh-heh-heh."
...Clowning hard.
* * *
Baekrim Girls' High. Post-seventh period cleaning time. Students clustered, gossiping.
A girl burst into the classroom.
"Chaera!"
Her urgent tone froze Lee Chaera. Others gathered.
"What's up, Nayun? Spill."
"W-Well..."
Nayun hesitated.
"Good news or bad?"
Chaera pressed.
"Kinda both..."
"Tell me."
"Okay."
Deep breath, Nayun spoke.
"Heard Dahyun's Snacks hired a new guy."
"......!"
Murmur-murmur—
The words rippled through the room.
Chaera steadied Nayun's shoulder—her hand trembled faintly.
"Tteokbokki status? Any real changes?"
"...Super vague, but they say it's tastier now."
"What? Impossible."
"Friend from Ihan High said after new guy started, it got way better. And he's pretty hot—"
"No way!"
Chaera's shout cut her off.
"Can't get better. Auntie's tteokbokki is perfect!"
Chaera muttered, head down.
"But friend said tastier..."
Chaera's eyes flashed.
"So it changed flavor?"
"Uh... for the better?"
Chaera ground her teeth.
"...Unforgivable. Newbie dares tweak auntie's perfect tteokbokki?"
"Not changed, more like—"
"Been slacking on studies. No more..."
Chaera cracked her neck decisively.
"Tomorrow. We raid."
Her round glasses glinted coldly.