Two Guests, Two Pieces of News (3)
“What else would a swindler be? A fellow like that is the very definition of one.”
Listening to Songha click his tongue in disdain, I offered a wry, silent smile. I had heard plenty about Murata Naguchi’s twisted disposition, but even I had not expected it to run this deep. At the very least, I never imagined anyone would say such things directly to a person’s face.
“Ha! You claim you will show us how you brew Meari? Be reasonable! Who on earth openly discloses their own recipe to an outsider?”
“Murata. If you keep carrying on like this, I will have to ask you to leave.”
“...”
His words were not entirely false. For most breweries, the exact recipe for their flagship spirit was kept under strict lock and key. While some places offered a glimpse into their process, the core secret was never divulged. But I had no need for such secrecy.
“It is simply that I am confident,” I said.
“What?”
“Even if I were to disclose everything, I am confident no one could replicate it.”
“How many humans could ever pull off what we do! It’d be abnormal if even one existed!”
“You can teach that shameless scoundrel a proper lesson, my friend.”
Unless someone could see dokkaebis and harness their supernatural gifts, reproducing Meari’s profile was impossible. Just as Moktong said, how could ordinary hands ever mimic this taste without the aid of spirits? And beyond that, I had another reason.
“Two such eminent masters have graced my brewery,” I continued smoothly. “Wouldn’t this be a prime opportunity for me to learn and improve?”
“Haha. It is truly generous of you to put it that way,” Eddie Brook chuckled warmly.
“Ahem! Well... if that is your reasoning, then I suppose...”
Flattered by the compliment, Naguchi turned his head away with a nonchalant shrug. Unlike him, Eddie Brook conducted himself as a true elder and gentleman. Apologizing on someone else’s behalf for an offense he hadn’t committed was proof enough of his refined character.
“Also, this presents a wonderful promotional opportunity for us. Would it be alright if we filmed this process?”
“We barged in without notice, after all,” Brook replied with a contrite nod. “I must apologize once more for our impoliteness. I was simply far too curious...”
“Not at all. I am deeply honored by your curiosity.”
“Then, may we observe for a moment?”
“Of course. Yeeun, are you getting good footage?”
“...Yes...”
As the red tally light on the camera blinked to life, I began explaining Meari from its very origins—the initial goal I set out to achieve, the trials overcome along the way, and the deep, storied heritage behind it.
“Oh... So this Meari is the Nokpaju originally restored by your grandfather, Mr. Yeonwoo?”
“Yes, that’s right. I merely refined it a little further.”
“The word ‘little’ does not suit real progress,” Brook countered genially. “Moving forward by even a fraction of a step is an extraordinary feat in itself.”
As I shared the days spent perfecting Meari: Autumn, followed by how we utilized bokbunja casks for Dalvorde, Eddie Brook’s eyes shone with heightened fascination. To a distiller from Scotland, the Korean black raspberry was an unfamiliar fruit. Yet having tasted that rich, jam-like sweetness in the glass, its origins naturally piqued his curiosity.
After asking to inspect a few bokbunja berries, rolling and crushing them between his fingers, Brook inquired, “So this bokbunja carries the sweet notes of wild berries. Yet it possesses high acidity, and the seeds carry considerable oils... Left unchecked, that could make the spirit greasy or cloying.”
“That is precisely why we only utilized the casks,” I explained.
“Haha! One can never overstate the importance of cask aging. You understand that intimately, Mr. Yeonwoo.”
“We sourced the casks from an exceptional artisan who brews phenomenal bokbunja wine. Striking that delicate balance took countless trials.”
Brook turned to his companion. “Did you hear that, Murata? Insights like these could only ever come from the craftsman who forged it with his own two hands.”
“Ugh... But still...”
Naguchi, on the other hand, glared at me with an expression of stubborn discontent. Changing a person’s preconceived notion was an exhausting endeavor, and I had no desire to force everyone to understand.
“Since you have traveled so far, why don’t you tour the rest of our brewery and sample some more of our spirits?”
“Splendid,” Brook replied enthusiastically. “I am eager to see what other marvelous creations your palate has brought into the world.”
“It would be my absolute honor, Master Distiller. Right this way.”
Our footsteps led toward the aging cellar—the very domain where Moktong lay in wait.
“Heheh. That miserable little street thug has finally stepped inside my belly! I’ll deep-fry you to a crisp, mark my words!”
“A splendid notion,” Songha chimed in. “Our newly brewed Hongya is delightfully tart and heavy; wouldn't it pair exquisitely with something fried and savory?”
“Well now, Songha, since when did you and I see eye to eye so well? Khehehe!”
Leaving behind the two dokkaebis, who had found bizarre common ground in plotting Naguchi’s torment, I poured them each a glass in proper sequence. First was Meari, the very beginning of Songhadang.
“Ahhh. Such pristine clarity,” Brook sighed in admiration. “It genuinely feels as though a lush, verdant mountain has unfurled before my eyes.”
“That was precisely the intention behind the brew.”
“You mentioned pine needles were used for the aroma? A brilliant choice. Splendid, haha!”
Next came Meari: Autumn. Hearing Brook recount how tasting this spirit had first put Songhadang on his radar filled me with quiet pride. He even let out a small grumble about how difficult it had been to obtain a bottle.
“Our production volume is limited due to a shortage of hands, but it isn’t a limited-edition run,” I explained. “Output will naturally increase moving forward.”
“Even so, can you truly part with such precious liquor for free?”
“You have come all this way to visit; offering a pour is the least I can do.”
Especially when the visitor was no ordinary guest, but a legendary titan of the whisky world. Furthermore, the camera held by Yeeun was still rolling. With a bit of editing and polish, uploading this to NewTube would make for phenomenal publicity.
“You mentioned you had already tasted Dalvorde as well, correct?”
“Precisely because I have tasted it, I yearn for another glass,” Brook admitted.
“I would like a pour of that one as well,” Naguchi muttered.
“Why, you insolent rascal!” Moktong barked. “I wouldn’t spare you a single drop even if you were dying on the floor!”
“Moktong,” Songha murmured coolly. “Shove that piece of filth into an onggi jar and seal the lid.”
“Have you lost your goblin mind, Songha?! Do you know what kind of onggi that is? How dare you suggest stuffing a lump of dung into such sacred earthenware!”
Taking the offered glass of Dalvorde, Naguchi swirled it gently and inspected the legs clinging to the glass. When he brought the rim to his nose and inhaled, his head snapped up, an expression of sheer ecstasy washing across his face.
“Ah... Yes, this is the aroma... A palace constructed from sheer sweetness...”
“To evoke such seamless harmony from scent alone... It truly is remarkable,” Brook murmured, mesmerized. “Though it tastes even finer than before—or is that merely my imagination?”
“We are continually refining it,” I replied.
Bottling a product for market didn't mean washing one’s hands of it. Dalvorde had evolved through multiple incremental improvements since its debut. While an overwhelming, visceral sweetness had dominated the initial release, I had since tempered its density, allowing the drinker to pause and savor the experience over time.
“Even the lingering finish on the exhale is magnificent,” Brook said.
“You flatter me.”
“Look here, Naguchi. Do you understand now?” Brook pressed, turning a sharp eye to his junior colleague. “Mr. Yeonwoo should no longer be addressed merely as a proprietor or a young man. He is a master artisan.”
“...”
Naguchi had no answer to Brook’s rebuke. How could he? His own sensitive nose and palate had already spoken the truth: a man who could brew spirits like this was an artisan who deserved nothing short of reverence.
“Mr. Yeonwoo. It seems I have found a reason to live a long life,” Brook said warmly.
“Pardon? What do you mean by that...?”
“You have illuminated a brand-new direction for me. Keep walking this path, and the day will soon arrive when you surpass whatever hollow fame I possess.”
It was praise akin to a benediction, coming from a living titan of the distilling world. In my past life, meeting Brook would have been a pipe dream, let alone receiving such words from him. I was still basking in the profound emotion when Yeeun’s urgent hand signals behind the camera snapped me back to reality.
Her fingertip pointed toward two bottles of Hongya, which Sejun had astutely set aside the moment he realized we had guests. It was time to capture the highlight of the shoot.
“It was an exquisite tasting. Thanks to your hospitality, I have learned and experienced a great deal. Haha.”
“...”
“Ah, if you have a moment to spare, would you care to try another spirit?” I offered.
“Another spirit, you say?”
The magic words “another spirit” halted Brook just as he rose from his seat to depart.
“It hasn’t been released yet,” I added. “We only began bottling it a few days ago.”
“Naguchi,” Brook said instantly. “What are you waiting for? Reschedule our flight this instant.”
He had clearly enjoyed the brewery tour. For a true lover of spirits, the opportunity to preview an unreleased creation was impossible to resist.
“This is our newest brew.”
“How do you read the name?”
“Hongya. It translates to ‘Red Night.’”
“Hoh... Red Night...” Brook murmured. “The packaging alone sets my expectations soaring. The crimson moon with that elegant calligraphy... It stirs the heart.”
“The spirit inside is just as captivating,” I said, presenting the bottle’s label before pouring Hongya into two clean glasses. “Please, have a taste.”
“First, the nose... Oh... Mmm!”
The moment they took their glasses, both men swirled the liquid, examined the legs, and buried their noses over the rims. After savoring the aroma, they took a sip.
“Indeed. Did I not tell you this was sheer craftsmanship, Naguchi?” Brook remarked, savoring the drop on his tongue. “The vibrant red fruit, that bright acidity, and beneath that heavy, grounded weight, a punch of warming spices that lands right on cue...”
“...”
“You’ve tasted it yourself, so you must know. How could anyone attribute such flavor and aroma to mere luck? Every single layer carries deliberate intent. A critic of your caliber couldn’t possibly have missed that intention.”
“Tch!”
Clicking his tongue at Brook’s lecture, Naguchi turned on his heel and fled the cellar as if fleeing an ambush. His face burned crimson once more, but unlike the indignant rage from earlier, it was now flushed with mortification. Comically enough, he had still drained every last drop of the Hongya before bolting.
“Whew... Hopefully that brings the fellow to his senses,” Brook sighed.
“To his senses?”
“I owe you an apology, Mr. Yeonwoo. You see, the truth of the matter is...”
Brook proceeded to recount everything that had transpired between him and Naguchi. In short, the story boiled down to this:
“Didn’t that fellow just jump to his own conclusions and throw a one-man tantrum?”
“That wasn't a misunderstanding!” Moktong snapped. “The brat spun a third-rate fiction out of his own absurd delusions!”
“Now that is an apt description,” Songha agreed.
Dalvorde was simply so delicious that Naguchi refused to believe a young Korean man could have crafted it. Dumbfounded, I stared at Brook, who merely offered a sheepish look and took another quiet sip of Hongya.
“That is why I apologized,” Brook said contritely. “Failing to give you advance notice and letting things escalate this way... I am deeply sorry.”
“Please, do not worry,” I replied. “Thanks to this, I can upload a video featuring a master distiller I deeply admire to NewTube. And I doubt Mr. Naguchi harbored any genuine malice. He may be childish, but his passion for spirits is sincere.”
Brook glanced down at his glass, which had already been emptied in that brief exchange, before looking up with sparkling eyes.
“Tell me, Mr. Yeonwoo... Would you ever consider crafting whisky here at Songhadang?”
His gaze danced with unmistakable anticipation.