As Much as You Want
The world I used to live in.
The moment I heard those words, I knew that this man named Kang-geon came from the very same place I did.
That was why I couldn't answer his question at first. All I remember is bursting into tears right where I sat, as if everything I had desperately bottled up had suddenly overflowed at once. How strange everyone looked. How much I missed my mom. How desperately I wanted to go home. I must have poured it all out in a broken, incoherent mess.
"Have you calmed down a bit?"
Cupping the warm mug with both hands, I nodded hesitantly. My eyes still stung and my voice wouldn't come out right, but one sight registered with stark clarity: a sharp black suit, a meticulously tied necktie, and an eye-catching luxury watch gleaming at his wrist.
My first impression of the man named Kang-geon was that he didn't seem easy to approach. His gaze was piercing, and his entire demeanor felt cold. Sitting face-to-face with him felt like it could choke the breath right out of you. Rather than a prince on a white horse from a fairy tale... wouldn't he be closer to a formidable, charismatic king?
Yet, I wasn't afraid. It was thanks to his slightly awkward smile—like a man who rarely smiled trying his absolute hardest not to frighten me.
That clumsy smile put my heart at ease so strangely that I gathered my courage to speak first.
"...How did you know? That I'm not from this world."
He paused to ponder, looking as though it were something difficult to put into words.
"Well... my intuition is a little too sharp."
"Your intuition?"
"Yeah. When I look at ordinary people, I immediately get a feel for things."
Whether they were dangerous, whether they could be trusted, what move to make next, and so on.
"But from you, I felt absolutely nothing. It was the first time that had ever happened, so one conclusion immediately crossed my mind: that you might be in a similar situation to mine."
"...You could figure all that out just from looking at me for a moment?"
"I usually have a lot of time to think by myself."
For some reason, those words sounded a little lonely. Even though he was smiling, he seemed like someone profoundly solitary.
"I just turn all kinds of thoughts over in my head. Wondering if maybe someone else from that world called the Republic of Korea might have fallen here too. If there were someone, how would they appear? Would they recognize me? Or would I recognize them?"
"..."
"And then, for the very first time, a cute little lady from whom I could feel nothing appeared right in front of me."
My grip tightened slightly around the mug. To think that feeling 'nothing' could sound so special... Did that mean I was someone special to him, too?
...It didn't matter. The simple fact that he was like me—that I hadn't been cast into this world all alone—was enough to let me breathe a little easier.
It was then that he spoke again.
"Ah, sorry to say, but I ran a background check on you."
"A background check on me?"
"Yeah. While you were making a scene down in the lobby."
"..."
Heat rushed to my face as I remembered how wildly I had cried and screamed earlier. Watching me shrink with embarrassment, he chuckled softly before letting out a quiet sigh.
"Says you came from an orphanage."
"...Yes."
"I don't know who's behind all this, but they sure have a soft spot for orphanages."
He muttered under his breath. I couldn't tell whom he was directing it at, but his tone carried blatant irritation. Then he looked back at me.
"It's uncomfortable there, isn't it? I speak from experience."
I couldn't answer right away. They fed me well, I had a decent place to sleep, and the caretakers looked after me kindly. But being there only made it clearer: the undeniable truth that I was an outsider.
"...A little."
"Thought so."
He fell into thought for a moment. But before long, he tossed out an offer as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Then want to live with me?"
"...What?"
Caught completely off guard, I nearly dropped my mug. If he hadn't reached out to steady it, the hot tea surely would have ruined the sofa.
"Careful."
"Ah, yes..."
"So, what's your answer?"
He seemed to have no intention of giving me time to deliberate. As far as he was concerned, he had made up his mind, so that was that. Yet I didn't find myself complaining.
"...Is that really okay?"
"Why wouldn't it be? There are plenty of empty rooms anyway, and an extra mouth to feed isn't going to break my bank."
"Still—"
"We're in the same boat, aren't we?"
That was all he said to brush away my hesitation. Perfectly matter-of-fact.
"Shouldn't people in the same boat look out for each other?"
"..."
"And like I said, it's not hard for me anyway."
There was nothing grandiose about his words. He wasn't proclaiming he would save me, nor was he offering charity out of pity. It was simply that we shared the same circumstances, so helping each other was only natural. That was all. Yet to me, those words felt overwhelmingly warm. Because for the first time since falling into this world, it felt like someone was finally reaching out to take my hand.
Except there was just one thing I wasn't entirely happy about. It happened when I first set foot inside his house.
"'Adopted daughter'? Then does that mean I'm... your daughter now?"
"Legally, yes. As 'Kang Sia.'"
"..."
"Still, you can call me whatever you want. Legal titles don't have to dictate what comes out of your mouth."
...I understood why. If the Chairman of Seonghwa Group suddenly brought home a child from an orphanage to live with him, the public would gossip relentlessly. A formal adoption changed the narrative completely. He became my legal guardian, school and hospital matters would be smooth, and no one would dare touch me recklessly. In this nation, being the family of Seonghwa Group's chairman carried tremendous weight.
So I felt reassured, and genuinely happy that I finally had someone in this world I could call real family. ...Truly. Though I still resented the 'adopted daughter' label, of course.
"Well, it's about time for lunch. Want to eat together? You aren't a picky eater, are you?"
I shook my head, and he began pulling ingredients from the refrigerator one by one. Curious, I asked him with a tilt of my head,
"You know how to cook?"
"Simple stuff. Besides, I have an excellent guide."
"A guide...?"
His earlier claim of having sharp intuition sprang to mind. Did that somehow apply to cooking, too?
A short while later, he set a neatly plated dish before me. It was undeniably kimchi fried rice. Rather humble fare for the Chairman of Seonghwa Group. But the moment the first spoonful hit my tongue, my eyes went wide.
"How is it? Good, right?" he asked with smug confidence.
Swallowing the bite, I nodded vigorously.
"It's delicious."
"Glad to hear it."
He smiled in relief. Seeing that expression, the words slipped out before I could stop myself.
"Could you... teach me?"
"Teach you what?"
"This."
I pointed my spoon toward the kimchi fried rice, and he blinked at me blankly. Only for a beat.
"As much as you want."
For a fleeting moment, he looked down at me with immense fondness.
I ended up watching from the side as the girl named Sia cooked. It was partly out of concern for my safety, but also to see this cooking skill she boasted about. When I asked if I could watch, she beamed and replied,
"As much as you'd like."
Tying an apron around her waist, she began selecting ingredients from the refrigerator with practiced ease. Because a hired housekeeper took care of my meals, the fridge was always fully stocked. From the assortment, Sia took out kimchi, eggs, green onions, an onion, and canned ham. Everyday ingredients. I could easily guess what she was making.
"Don't tell me it's kimchi fried rice?"
"Yep. It's quick, and what Korean doesn't love it?"
She answered as she prepped the ingredients. Tap, tap, tap. The knife moved with rhythmic precision. Even to someone like me, who rarely cooked, her hands worked with remarkable familiarity.
"You really are good at this."
"Did you think I was lying?"
"Hard to take your word for it right off the bat. After all, I only met you today."
Thud.
The knife abruptly stopped. For some reason, Sia was glaring at me.
Whoa. Don't look at me like that while holding a knife.
As I pulled back with a startled expression, she pouted petulantly.
"I guess miracles don't happen that easily. I was hoping that looking at each other like this would make something snap into place—like pop!"
"That's usually a cliché reserved for amnesiacs."
"Mmm... fair point."
She nodded in conceded agreement.
A little later, a plate of kimchi fried rice was served on the table. It wasn't any kind of grand feast, but the instant I took the first bite, I knew immediately.
"..."
The seasoning suited my palate so perfectly it was bordering on eerie. The acidity of the kimchi had been properly tempered, the ham wasn't overpowering, and the subtle aroma of scallions lingered just right. Above all, it wasn't overly salty—gentle enough for someone who had skipped breakfast to eat comfortably, yet strangely addicting enough to keep my spoon moving. Because it was such a simple dish, the subtle perfection stood out all the more.
"Delicious, right?" Sia asked with a faint smile.
Not 'How is it?' or 'Is it edible?', but a question dripping with unadulterated certainty.
I glanced down at my spoon before looking back at her. My Intuition remained completely silent, but my basic human instincts told me everything: that girl's eyes were brimming with pure anticipation.
"Yeah. It's really good."
At those few words, Sia's face lit up like a beacon—just like a child who had finally heard the praise she longed for.
Perhaps it was because I had been through so much turbulence lately, or because of the heavy mantle that came with sitting in the chairman's seat of Seonghwa Group... but it felt like ages since I had shared such an ordinary conversation with someone.
...It wasn't half bad.