Two New Encounters (Part 2)
True to his harsh words, Moktong glared at the onggi jars as though staring down a pile of filthy waste. The drunken old sot from moments ago was nowhere to be seen, replaced entirely by the stubborn, unyielding pride of an artisan etched into the deep wrinkles around his eyes.
Which was precisely why I had to ask.
"Filth... what do you mean by that?"
"Come now, Moktong, my good fellow," Songha chimed in gently. "Aren't your words a bit too severe?"
"If it's filth, I call it filth! What else am I s'posed to call it, liquor?"
Moktong refused to yield an inch, brushing off Songha’s attempt at peace without a second thought. As a dokkaebi born of spirits and aging, his discerning eye was certainly not something to take lightly. Even so, I had to understand the reason. Only then could I craft liquor that would satisfy them.
Besides, those jars held the fruits of Sejun's and my own blood, sweat, and passion. Hearing them dismissed so bluntly as mere trash naturally rubbed me the wrong way. Sensing my frustration, Songha gave Moktong’s shoulder a comforting pat.
"He is merely asking for an explanation, friend. It may be plain as day to us, but our companion here is human, after all."
"Bah! What a bother. Open yer eyes and prick up yer ears, then—watch and listen close."
Grumbling under his breath, Moktong shuffled over to the jars. He plunged his arms straight in, scooping up the liquor he had branded as filth in his left hand and the Meari he had been secretly guzzling in his right.
"Look here. This is what you call liquor."
"Um..."
He thrust both handfuls right in front of my face. Honestly speaking, though, I couldn't tell the difference at all. Thanks to the gift Songha had given me, the flavors and aromas manifested before my eyes like playful little spirits, but between the two liquid samples, there was barely any discernible variance.
As I tilted my head in bewilderment, Moktong clicked his tongue.
"Aigoo! It's enough to drive an old man mad! Tending to yer brew so sloppily, o' course it'd turn out to be such rot!"
"Moktong, my friend," Songha interjected smoothly. "Haven't you forgotten something?"
"Eh? Aside from workin' up my temper, what could an old codger like me have forgotten?"
"You haven't given our friend his gift yet."
"Ah. That?"
Smacking his lips with visible reluctance, Moktong crooked a gnarled finger toward me.
"C'mere."
"Me?"
"Aye, who else is standin' here? Bah! That's it. Closer. Hyah!"
"Ow!"
The moment I leaned in, Moktong flicked me squarely in the forehead. As I yelped and clutched the stinging spot, he cackled with mischievous glee.
"There, gave it to ya! Happy now? Take another look."
Rubbing my smarting forehead, I looked back down at the liquor. Only then did the world shift before my eyes.
The Meari undergoing maturation was slowly steeping in a luminous golden light. Atop its surface, tiny aroma spirits were frolicking with blissful smiles, playing tag in merry abandon. No—they were destined to play tag. What I was seeing was the state this liquor would reach once it finished its proper aging.
"This is..."
"You see it now, don'tcha? What this brew's gonna become. Quit daydreamin' and take a look at this side too."
In the other liquor Moktong held out, another future unfolded. There, the spirits roamed like starving wretches drooling for sustenance. Unlike before, the grassy aroma had grown gaunt and withered, greedily snatching up the nutty scents crawling across the surface and devouring them whole.
It was a grotesque sight, and just as I instinctively tried to look away—
"Halt! Look straight at it, I said!"
"Easy now, Moktong," Songha chided. "He has only just received the gift and must still be finding his footing."
"Bah! Fine, then drinkin' the good stuff should be fine enough. Songha, you care for a cup?"
"Ahem... I certainly won't decline."
And so, one human and two dokkaebi shared a cup of the liquor Moktong had deemed worthy. Their reactions were identical.
"Khaaah! Now this is proper liquor!"
"Splendid. A truly splendid spirit has been born."
Songha and Moktong downed their shares in an instant, singing its praises. Meanwhile, I tipped my cup and let a sip slide down my throat.
"Whoa..."
No other words were needed. It was an exceptional liquor now, and it was bound to become even greater in the days ahead. Meari had already been a superb spirit, yet this draft carried a depth that seemed ready to shatter its own limits through the power of maturation.
As I stood staring blankly into the empty cup, Moktong chuckled raspily.
"Well? Ain't it killer?"
"Yes... but how... how could it have aged like this already...?"
"'Cause I scooped myself a few mouthfuls, o' course."
"Pardon?"
"What're ya starin' at me like that for?"
Moktong gave me a deadpan scowl as if I had asked the most obvious question in the world. Even as he spoke, he reached toward the jar for another scoop, only to have Songha block his hand. Undeterred, the old spirit continued:
"Every dokkaebi's got their own knack. That fellow Songha over there can ward off wicked impurities. Me, on the other hand, I happen to be mighty fine at aging liquor. Ain't that just natural?"
"Did I not say good fortune was in store?" Songha added with a gentle nod. "With Old Man Moktong here, you will be able to brew even greater spirits."
"You bet! Give me a few more gulps of this batch, and it'll turn out ten times better!"
The tone of their banter was light and casual, but the substance was anything but. Simply by having a dokkaebi drink from the jar, the aging period could be shortened so dramatically? Everything I knew about brewing was being turned completely upside down, yet I had no choice but to accept it. What I had studied in my past life was alcohol, not supernatural folklore.
"Drink any more, Moktong," Songha warned, "and there won't be a single drop left in Songhadang."
"Then the lad just has to brew that much more! Why else do ya think I made myself so sturdy?"
With that, Moktong plunged his hand in again and tilted another palmful down his throat. Words bounced back and forth between Songha and Moktong, but I couldn't focus on their conversation. And with good reason.
"I can see it..."
No, it wasn't merely sight. It was closer to intuition. I could feel the rhythmic breathing of the onggi jars resting in the cellar. I could sense the dance and respiration of the yeasts working their quiet magic through the maturation.
"He's finally feelin' it," Moktong grunted.
"What... what is this?"
"You have gained the instinct to perceive the optimal path of maturation," Songha explained warmly. "Even if you taste a spirit before it is aged, you will intuitively foresee how it shall blossom afterward. A fine gift, is it not?"
If what he said was true, I had just acquired a blessing that any brewer in the world would envy beyond measure—a power one would trade mountains of gold to obtain. Aging was never merely locking a jar away and letting time pass. What vessel to use, what seasoning to impart, what base spirit to choose, where, how, and for how long to age it... The synthesis of all those variables created the true magic of maturation.
"Thank you, Elder," I said sincerely.
"Now you're lookin' like a decent lad. A youngster ought to know how to greet his elders properly."
"Do exercise some restraint, Moktong..."
"What did I do? Anyhow, this brew just needs me to sip on it a bit more. Give it two days."
"Two days...?"
"Then it'll be fit for sellin'."
Moktong was confident that Meari, aged for a mere two weeks, would be ready for market. It sounded impossible, yet I had no reason to doubt him. He had just demonstrated his power right before my eyes. Having only manifested today, he had created an astounding leap in quality simply by partaking of the brew a handful of times.
"So get yerself ready," Moktong added.
"Ready?"
"Aigoo, are yer ears turnin' senile? You gotta sell this well and brew in heaps so the other rascals can wake up, don'tcha? As it stands, I've got no drinkin' buddy 'cept Songha here! Hardly puts an old man in the mood. Bah! I'm off!"
Rattling off whatever was on his mind, Moktong dissolved smoothly into the cellar wall. His prickly tone had a way of grating on the nerves, but every single word he spoke held true. He was offering to help craft supreme spirits so that more of the dokkaebi clan could awaken.
That aligned perfectly with our goals as well. If Songhadang crafted ever-greater spirits, we could ultimately present our liquor to the entire world. And I could bring joy to everyone I had once disappointed in my past life.
Steeling my resolve, I turned to Songha.
"This turned out well."
"What comes next is what truly matters, my friend."
"You'll lend a hand, won't you?"
Songha adjusted the brim of his fedora with a gentle smile.
"Naturally, my friend."
"Then let's get to work."
Stepping out of the aging cellar, I headed straight for the brewing floor where Sejun would be. I fudged an excuse about a stray cat slipping in rather than a ghost, and to my relief, he nodded and bought it without question.
"So what brought you back out? Ready to jump straight into work?"
"Have to. We need all the hands we can get right now."
There was plenty of work to do, but more than that, I was burning to test the ability I had just received.
"Then let's start with—"
"Got it. I'll prep it right away!"
Our current task was brewing more Meari. Perhaps owing to steady word of mouth since partnering with Juju Daily, the volume we were moving had far outstripped what Grandfather used to sell in his day.
"Feels like we're shipping nearly two hundred bottles a day," I remarked.
"On average, sounds about right. Hup!"
Sejun hoisted a heavy sack of rice and poured it into the washer as he replied. And so the work began. We focused silently on our tasks, our rhythm unbroken, allowing us to prepare the sulmit in no time at all.
Right then, an image formed effortlessly in my mind.
"For the aging... longer than usual... at low temperature..."
The optimal maturation process—and how to bring the liquor closer to absolute perfection—flashed before my eyes like a burst of profound inspiration. I could even sense the texture and profile of the finished brew.
"This... is going to be incredible."
"Already? We haven't even aged it yet."
"I'm saying it's going to be incredible."
Of course, now that I possessed this gift, it wasn't a mere hunch—it was certainty.
"Well, if you say so, I believe you."
"Once it's done, you'll know the moment you taste it."
Even if I told him that Moktong's blessing let me peer into the future of aged spirits, he would never believe me. However...
"There's one problem."
"Huh? What problem? If it's manual labor, just say the word! I'll muscle through it!"
"No, not that kind of problem."
I shook my head as Sejun flexed an arm as thick as a grown man's thigh. Even with his boundless stamina and muscle, he couldn't solve what I had just discovered.
"I think we need to remake the sulmit from scratch."
I had thought Meari had reached its absolute peak, but now I saw where its true horizons lay.
"We're... remaking it?"
"Yeah. And we have to do something else, too."
"What else?"
Sejun shrugged, asking for details. I cross-referenced the sensory vision blooming in my mind with my accumulated brewing knowledge. The rich, nutty warmth of toasted grains. The delicate whisper of pine blossoming between them, harmonized by a mellow sweetness.
"Let's roast."
"Could you maybe include a subject when you talk?"
"This."
I pointed at the non-glutinous rice we had measured out for the starter mash.
"Let's roast it and blend it in."
Without a single shred of hesitation.
"Phew. Is this enough?"
"Yeah, that looks just right."
Being a historic brewery, Songhadang was equipped with traditional cast-iron cauldrons. They were vast and deep—so enormous that even a burly fellow like Sejun could fit inside. Normally, we would be cooking rice in them, but right now, beads of sweat dripped down Sejun's brow as he vigorously stirred the grains over the heat.
"What in the world are you planning to do with this? And what about those over there?"
The roasted rice wasn't all. Sitting alongside it were batches of pristine, dried edible chrysanthemums I had procured for our experiments.
"We're going to use them in the starter mash. It's roasted through, so let's pull it out."
Under the steady work of Sejun's powerful arms, the rice was toasted to perfection, sending up a rich, savory aroma. Yes—this was exactly what I had envisioned.
We prepared the sulmit following Meari's foundational method, but with a deliberate twist.
"Whoa, what are you doing with that?"
"We're using the infused water."
I used chrysanthemum-infused water to steam the jiebab. From the freshly cooked porridge-like rice rose a delicate, fragrant steam.
"Now we add this..."
I ground the roasted rice into a fine powder, blending it into the mash before thoroughly mixing in the nuruk.
"Done."
Before long, the aromas manifested before my sight. The savory richness of toasted grain and the gentle, honeyed fragrance of chrysanthemum held hands, swaying in a joyful, harmonious dance. It was the moment the gifts bestowed by Songha and Moktong achieved flawless synergy.
"Mmm... I still can't really tell."
"Just trust me."
"Well, if I can't trust you, who can I trust?"
Sejun's lukewarm skepticism flipped completely upside down a month later, the instant he tasted the newly matured Meari.
"Whoa! Holy crap! What is this?!"
With a single sip, layers of flavor and aroma bloomed across the palate. It was as though the very essence of autumn had been captured and distilled into liquid form.
"You have taken yet another step forward, my friend," Songha murmured with admiration.
"Heh-heh! Aye! This is the kind of brew you ought to make! Now it's finally worth lookin' at!" Moktong cackled.
Seeing both dokkaebi sipping continuously in sheer delight proved beyond doubt that a masterpiece had been born. Which meant there was only one thing left to do.
"Sejun."
"Slurp, gulp. Huh? What?"
"Call CEO Yoon Juho."
Hearing that a liquor he was already smitten with had evolved even further, there was only one possible reaction from a connoisseur whose passion for spirits was practically certified by dokkaebi.
"He says he's coming right away."
"Figures."
"No, I mean he's on his way this very second."
"Wait, what?"
Even I hadn't expected him to sprint over quite that fast.