You're Hired!

"I've deposited your wages through today. Thank you for all your hard work."

Inside the Italian restaurant near the Pyeongcheong River.

When closing time came, the owner called Do Seo-gyeong over and held out an envelope.

"Boss, you haven't said a single word until now. Why all of a sudden?"

"All of a sudden? Didn't I tell you? I said you'd have to work hard if you wanted to make it past a year here."

Under labor law, severance pay was required once an employee had worked more than a year.

The owner had already been sued twice for failing to comply with it.

On the day Do Seo-gyeong first came in for her interview, he hadn't bothered to hide the fact, either.

Listening to the owner talk, she'd somehow come away feeling like the people who slacked off and then demanded severance were the villains.

She'd assumed they were shameless freeloaders who hadn't worked hard at all and demanded money anyway.

[Do Seo-gyeong, once you pass the one-year mark, you're with me for life. Give it your best.]

At those words, Do Seo-gyeong had smiled and shown her confidence. A year from now, the owner would be the one begging her to stay.

Her hands were quick and skilled, she could cook well, and she considered herself diligent.

And yet, ten days before that one-year mark, she found herself on the chopping block.

"Boss. I won't ask for any severance when I leave. Can't I just keep working here?"

At her plea, the owner snorted and scoffed.

"That's what they all say, and then later it's a different story. You're not the first to pull that on me. I've already hired a replacement, so that's that."

The owner jerked his chin at her, as if to say she was free to go.

"Then next time there's an opening—"

"I don't hire people who talk back to their boss. Goodbye."

Using the dinner rush as an excuse, he turned sharply on his heel and walked off.

It seemed she'd fallen out of his favor over throwing out expired frozen shrimp a few days before.

Seafood degrades even while frozen.

Its proteins bind more loosely than meat's, and its water content is higher. Worse still, seafood contains autolytic enzymes that keep working even at temperatures below minus eighteen degrees Celsius.

Not as fast as they would at room temperature, but they slowly break down the tissue and produce toxic compounds—which is exactly why expiration dates must be respected.

I didn't do anything wrong.

But bitterness and disbelief aside, Do Seo-gyeong held both a Western culinary license and a barista certification, and she was certain she'd find work again soon.

She figured she could land a job the very next day at a steakhouse, a tonkatsu joint, or a cafe near the Pyeongcheong River.

That, it turned out, was a colossal misunderstanding.

Apparently the Italian restaurant's owner was chairman of the Ugok 3-ri merchants' association, and anyone who had worked under him could forget about ever getting rehired in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the area.

He'd even specifically told people not to hire Do Seo-gyeong. Something about how she'd looked down on him for running a business in the countryside?

That remark seemed to have ruffled the country shop owners' feathers.

Without asking a single question about what had actually happened, they would get up from their seats and leave the moment they heard the name Do Seo-gyeong.

In the countryside, once a rumor turned ugly, that was the end of it.

Tired of being kicked around like this, she even considered just giving up and moving back to Seoul.

Then she learned that nearly all of her classmates from cooking school were unemployed and idle.

Whether it was Korea's industrial structure shifting or not, the city's commercial districts were collapsing.

Unless a place was a famous must-eat spot or sat near a trendy healing-tourism destination like the Pyeongcheong River, nobody was hiring.

Restaurants all across the country were dying. Cafes were no different.

"I have to find a way to hold on here, somehow."

Do Seo-gyeong's original dream had been to move to the countryside and farm.

But she had no land, no farming skills, and a timid streak to boot.

So she had written off the idea of taking out the three-hundred-million-won youth farmer support loan to start farming altogether.

She'd watched too many friends take youth startup funds, open restaurants, and fail spectacularly.

Her plan had been to live in the countryside first, scope out land prices, learn how to farm step by step—and only then take on the youth farmer support program.

"Whatever. I can't afford to be picky anymore, not like this."

Gathering her courage, Do Seo-gyeong went to see the Director of the Agricultural Technology Center. To apply for the youth farming support.

"You said... what documents do I need to receive the three-hundred-million-won loan?"

"Seo-gyeong, what's gotten into you all of a sudden? Tell me what happened."

The Director knew Do Seo-gyeong's personality well—she was a graduate of the farming school. Honest and meticulous, but timid and easily frightened.

And now suddenly she wanted to take out a three-hundred-million-won loan and buy land, consequences be damned.

"You could rent land cheaply through the Farmland Bank, too. You should try things one step at a time and then decide. Why so sudden?"

"Because I'm too angry. And so heartbroken..."

In tears, Do Seo-gyeong poured out everything she had endured over the past year at the Italian restaurant in Ugok 3-ri.

"Hmm. Then the person you need to meet right now isn't me."

"I'm sorry? What do you mean? Then who should I go see?"

"Kim Yunho. The pillar of Ugok 1-ri and the face of Pyeongcheong County."

The Director pulled out his phone and showed her the website Kim Yunho had built for Ugok's Courtyard.

"This is the website Kim Yunho just launched."

The clean, fresh design looked remarkably sophisticated. The elegant subpages laid out all the businesses Ugok's Courtyard planned to run going forward.

The online shop selling coffee beans detailed the green beans' origins and the roasting methods.

There were posts from people who had come to the grand opening, tasted the coffee, and placed orders. Even reviews with photos of the cafe, about the wonderful memories they'd made there.

A place this amazing existed in Ugok 1-ri?

The Director said with a smile,

"Kim Yunho says he'll prioritize hiring locals. He can't post it on the website, he says—too many people would come flooding in."

"I—I suppose so."

Even now, countless people were logging onto the site, posting comments, and ordering coffee beans.

If a full-time cafe position were announced in the middle of that, inquiries would come pouring in.

It might even keep him from getting any other work done.

"Yunho is also renovating the empty houses for a rental program, and with so many applicants flooding in for that, he says he'll quietly select the cafe staff instead."

"Oh, I see."

"He asked me to send over people preparing to move to the countryside. Here, have a read."

Do Seo-gyeong read the job posting over and over, her eyes tracing every line.

"Is this just bait? I can't believe it."

Since earning her culinary and barista certifications, she had worked at plenty of restaurants and cafes, and she had never once seen conditions this good.

Salary negotiable? A guaranteed ten-percent raise every year?

Bonuses paid on top of revenue. And a special allowance for overtime, even.

It even said that anyone living in Ugok 3-ri could borrow a fully renovated empty house free of charge.

Five hundred thousand won deposit, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠three hundred ninety thousand won a month in rent, forty thousand won a month for villa maintenance. With gas and electricity it all comes to around six hundred thousand won.

And she could keep all of that? Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed without thinking.

"No one keeps promises like these. What would be left over?"

"The tunnel to Ugok 1-ri was jammed with cars on the day the cafe opened. They say even celebrities showed up and it was total chaos. I'm planning to go see it myself tomorrow."

"I—is that so?"

She had overheard in passing that a film had been shot in Ugok 1-ri. Was that why it had gotten famous?

As Do Seo-gyeong tilted her head, the Director smiled.

"I suppose you didn't know because you've kept to yourself and never shown interest in what goes on outside the village."

"Everything still feels unfamiliar to me."

"After a whole year... well, some people just take longer to settle in."

Unable to answer, Do Seo-gyeong let her gaze drift to somewhere on the table.

In Seoul and in the countryside alike, only things that wounded her heart and wore down her body had come her way, and somewhere along the line she had grown timid without realizing it.

The Director's expression softened completely, and he spoke in a gentle voice.

"Don't worry. Kim Yunho moved to the countryside too, so he'll understand what you're struggling with without you having to say a word."

"Do you... really think so?"

"Of course. Yunho is a man who always keeps his promises. You will never regret it."

Tomorrow was finally the day of the Pyeongcheong Marathon. I had to go to bed early, get up early, and drive out to the county seat.

While I'd been away in Seoul, Choi Hogyeong and Park Seok-tae had supposedly trained without missing a single day.

Can't let them down.

Meanwhile, the cafe customers just kept coming.

As I poured my heart into every cup I served, one corner of my mind was troubled.

Had I made a mistake, asking the Agricultural Technology Center Director to help find cafe staff?

More people than you'd expect decide to move to the countryside, only to hesitate once they actually get here.

Those who fail at rural life, or discover too late that farming doesn't suit them. Those who realize that farming alone means going broke.

There were people who wanted nothing more than to live in the countryside but simply couldn't hold on, for all sorts of reasons.

I'd hoped that among them might be someone who wanted to work at a cafe.

But the Director seemed to be taking his time picking the right person, and no word had come.

If I left for Japan like this, Oh Seung-seo would have to run himself ragged without a moment's rest.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠part-timers would have just as hard a time of it.

Maybe I should just post a job listing on the website and in the county office's job recruitment section tomorrow.

Only, that would bring in way too many applicants.

This was a problem, that was a problem.

Come to think of it, why not simply shorten the cafe's business hours while I was away? At the very least, Seung-seo and the part-timers would suffer a little less.

"Excuse me—Seung-seo?"

I was about to discuss the shortened hours when the door opened and a woman stepped inside.

Is she alone?

I signaled to Seung-seo that I would take the order and walked up to the counter.

"Ready to order?"

"I, um, brought my resume. But before that, there's something I'd like to say."

"Oh, of course."

The name on the resume read Do Seo-gyeong. A licensed Western cuisine chef with a barista certification besides—a rare combination of talents.

Do Seo-gyeong spoke haltingly.

"Th-the thing is, the reason I was fired from Pyeongcheong Napoli is because I threw out expired shrimp. It was absolutely, positively not because I looked down on the owner for being a country man!"

"Yes, and?"

"...I'm sorry?"

Do Seo-gyeong blinked at my response, then asked,

"I was asking you not to judge me by whatever bad things you might have heard about me."

"I don't know where Pyeongcheong Napoli sits on anything, but throwing out expired shrimp sounds like exactly the right call to me. What do you think, Seung-seo?"

Pulling freshly washed cups from the dishwasher, Seung-seo looked back and forth between me and Do Seo-gyeong and said,

"You did the obvious thing. Why, though?"

Only then did Do Seo-gyeong's hunched shoulders straighten.

"Apparently the boss here isn't on good terms with the Ugok 3-ri merchants' association chairman."

"I have no reason to be friendly with him, and I'm not the sort to sit still while outsiders stick their noses into how I hire my own cafe staff."

"That's true. Our boss is a bit like that."

Seung-seo snickered.

Is he picking a fight with me?

"And what, exactly, is that laugh supposed to mean?"

I shot him a glare, then turned to Do Seo-gyeong and asked for a moment.

"One second, please."

Right away, Seung-seo and I went over her resume together and talked it over briefly. Then I returned to my place behind the counter.

"Do Seo-gyeong?"

"Yes?"

"You're hired!"