Chapter 1: I Quit Everything to Sell Cola (1)
Chapter 1: I Quit Everything to Sell Cola (1)
Translation: Godtl
What is a hero?
It is someone who achieves feats that the vulgar could never accomplish even in a lifetime.
Someone who casually accomplishes what others cannot, thereby changing the "world."
In that sense, the man we're about to discuss was more than worthy of being called a "hero."
He vanquished the monstrous beasts that plagued the Britannia Kingdom at the forefront of the Demon Realm.
Even the infamous creatures classified as "Annihilation" or "Calamity"-level—those capable of effortlessly destroying large cities and kingdoms—were no match for him.
Nor were the "Apocalypse"-level beasts, deemed capable of bringing about a nation's downfall.
But if you were to ask whether his true worth lay solely in his martial prowess as a knight...
The answer would be a resounding no.
He was an alchemist capable of "Material Creation"—a feat most dismissed as mere fantasy.
The only being who could create something from nothing, a miracle-worker who embodied the legendary feats of myth.
And that wasn't all.
The gods had granted him far too many gifts.
He was an exceptional knight, an alchemist, and, at the same time, a brilliant inventor.
Each of the technologies he developed and invented brought prosperity to the kingdom.
After holding several key positions, he became the Minister of Internal Affairs and, with the assistance of the world's most adorable 4th-grade Secretary, Lily Fontaine, he overhauled the kingdom's basic infrastructure—roads, public facilities, and more.
He introduced and successfully implemented previously undiscussed concepts such as public health and sanitation, public order, and environmental conservation (during which the contributions of 4th-grade Secretary Lily Fontaine shone particularly bright).
As the world's greatest knight and alchemist, he was also a visionary urban planner, a pioneer centuries ahead of his time, and a legal scholar who reformed the kingdom's imperfect laws!
Thus, it would be no exaggeration to say that the prosperity and abundance Britannia enjoys today originated from his fingertips.
"Not to mention, he was selected as the top candidate for the Royal Maid Selection and voted the most desirable man to date."
"..."
"To collect the affections of countless women like some multi-level scheme... Truly a terrifying tale."
"..."
"Do you happen to know this man's name?"
"Of course. Han-bin. That's my name, isn't it? Though it does seem a bit exaggerated... But tell me, Secretary, why do you start showering me with compliments the moment I submit my leave request?"
"They say even dolphins perform tricks when praised. Did it make you feel like performing one?"
"That's just terrifying."
"You're quite perceptive."
The young secretary, perched halfway on the table, gazed steadily at her superior with an impassive expression.
Before her lay Han-bin's leave request form, placed at a crooked angle.
"As you've guessed, I'll be rejecting your leave request, Sir Han-bin."
"Don't say that! Lily, are you my superior now? No matter what anyone says, I need this vacation! Please!"
Despite his pleas, the 4th-grade Secretary Lily flicked the leave request form away with her fingertips, utterly heartless.
Watching the fluttering form fall pathetically to the ground, Han-bin clutched his head and let out a scream.
"Gaaah! You have no right to do this to me!"
"Oh, but I do."
"And what right would that be?"
"Since we spend every night together. And we'll be spending tonight together too."
"Don't phrase overtime like that! What if rumors start spreading?"
Despite his earnest begging, Lily didn't so much as blink.
She merely twirled a lock of her luscious hair around her finger, responding with complete indifference.
"Don't worry. Even if the Minister of Internal Affairs becomes the subject of rumors—a bachelor who missed his chance at marriage—I, Lily, will always be by your side. Always."
Han-bin shot her a resentful glare.
Lily Fontaine, the 4th-grade Secretary who assisted the Minister of Internal Affairs, Han-bin, in all his duties.
Her voluminous cocoa-colored hair looked as if someone had mixed soft rabbit fur with fluffy sheep's wool.
The owner of mesmerizing violet eyes.
Someone who belonged more on the red carpets of film awards or high-society galas than buried under stacks of paperwork.
Yet despite her youth, Lily held the title of 4th-grade Secretary.
A talent specially recruited by Han-bin for Britannia.
It was Lily who flawlessly translated Han-bin's rough ideas into practical plans.
And when problems arose, it was Lily who rolled up her sleeves and barged into other departments to fix them.
Contrary to her seemingly stoic appearance, she was a master of diplomacy, capable of charming even the most obstinate bureaucrats into making the impossible possible.
"I'm always grateful that you refused promotions and stayed as my secretary, but..."
"Is that so? Then you should also be grateful for the honor of gazing upon a secretary more beautiful than any actress every single day."
"Of course, I'm grateful for that as well..."
"Then I assume you won't be taking any leave either?"
The problem was that she was such a workaholic, so thoroughly steeped in patriotism and self-pride that she connected every waking moment to "Britannia's advancement."
And why was this a problem? Because Miss Lily simply wouldn't tolerate her superior leaving work before her.
"Master Han-bin, listen carefully. When we endure hardships, our beloved Britannia shines all the more gloriously. Conversely, if you were to take a week's leave, it would mean slowing the nation's progress by that much. Do you understand me so far?"
"I don't understand. Ah, wait. I do understand now, so please relax your expression."
Han-bin sighed deeply at his secretary's adorable threat, delivered with firmly pursed lips and wide, determined eyes.
"But I do understand Master Han-bin's feelings as well."
"R-really? Then perhaps a short vacation—"
"Head Chef. You may enter."
As Lily clapped her hands, showing unexpected generosity, the door opened to reveal the head chef.
On the silver tray he carried was an elegant silver plate.
"You always say you want delicious food, don't you? This is a special dish prepared for Master Han-bin, who works tirelessly for the kingdom. Royal Head Chef, please introduce the menu."
"Yes, Secretary."
The head chef confidently presented his signature dish.
"Eel pie made with fatty sea eel. The filling consists of eel bones simmered with chives and set into a jelly form."
"Wait... eel what did you say?"
"Eel pie."
Its appearance featured a crusty pie shell with an eel's head and tail protruding grotesquely from either end.
The gentleman's hat adorning the eel's head made the dish look even more surreal.
"Dear God..."
Han-bin searched for divine intervention but received no answer.
Indeed.
Looking at the miserable existence of this eel—not only brutally murdered but transformed into something barely recognizable as food...
God probably didn't exist.
"My masterpiece. Please try it."
"I'm fine. I'm not hungry."
"Master Han-bin, the chef put his heart into this dish."
"...Then just one bite."
Under the expectant gaze of the round-cheeked head chef, Han-bin took a single bite of this blasphemously named "eel pie."
He knew the chef had put effort into it.
He tried his best not to show his reaction.
"Bleh."
But he couldn't stop the natural gag reflex.
This fishy stench! The slimy texture! The incomprehensible whirlpool of flavors that defied description!
"Master Han-bin, the chef is crying in shock."
"Sniffle"
"My apologies, Chef. But this food—no, this... this shouldn't exist in this world."
"Don't be too disheartened. It tastes perfectly fine to my palate."
"Thank you... Secretary... sob"
Lily cheerfully munched on the eel pie, comforting the chef as she ate.
Han-bin watched the scene with mixed feelings before sliding his portion over to Lily.
Earlier, when rejecting his leave request, Lily had presented it as a matter of public duty.
But there were several omitted details in that argument.
Han-bin was originally a modern Korean who had worked at a food development research institute before suddenly finding himself in this fantasy world after a very, very long series of tribulations.
Yet among all the hardships he'd faced since then, nothing tormented Han-bin more than the kingdom's horrific food culture.
Britannian cuisine was infamous across the continent for its terrible taste.
The variety was so limited that dining tables were painfully monotonous, and even the few existing dishes had baffling flavors.
Puzzled by this, Han-bin had investigated the reasons.
First, the recipes themselves were problematic.
Instructions like "boil for some minutes," "adjust heat as needed," or "season to taste" were written as if they were perfectly acceptable.
With recipes—the very foundation of flavor—in such a state, proper food was impossible.
Even more terrifying was that people saw no need to develop better recipes.
After over a century of war with the Alkand Empire, a culture of "food is just for nutrition" had taken deep root.
Once a cultural thread is broken, it doesn't simply mend itself.
Ingredients were cooked with almost no seasoning under the lofty pretense of "preserving their natural flavor."
Combined with the pitifully inadequate home cooking and nearly nonexistent native cuisine, meals in this kingdom were nothing more than a means to ingest nutrients.
For Han-bin, a man from the modern era, these meals were no better than prison rations.
"I have an appointment with the Chief of Police, so I'll see you in the afternoon."
"Very well..."
Lily Fontaine, having polished off the utterly tasteless eel pie, briskly left the office.
"Sigh..."
As mentioned before, Han-bin had accomplished much in the Britannia Kingdom.
He had eliminated the kingdom's enemies from the shadows and hunted down monstrous beasts at the forefront of the Demon Realm.
He had served as a distinguished professor and even taken on the unexpected role of Minister of Internal Affairs.
When the reforms he spearheaded clashed with the entrenched elites, he had been dragged into exhausting political battles, even starring in absurd political dramas he never asked for.
Frankly, the Britannia Kingdom? It had flourished as much as it could.
He took pride in having made truly significant contributions, just as Lily had said.
As a result, the Britannia Kingdom was experiencing a golden age unlike any since its founding.
Hadn't he done enough by now?
Even if he stepped away, the kingdom had enough momentum to continue progressing on its own.
"Now, I just want to do what I want to do..."
And that was reforming this kingdom's abysmal culinary culture.
For Han-bin, this had been a long-cherished desire.
But wasn't culture, by definition, the shared identity of a society's members?
Lily would never stand by and watch him obsess over something so trivial.
The people of Britannia, accustomed to tasteless food, had little interest in gourmet cuisine.
His ambition to introduce even more delicious food to this world would likely be dismissed by Lily as nothing but a fool's errand.
So, was there no way?
No.
There was.
With a resolute expression, Han-bin pulled out a single blank sheet of paper.
To Lily Fontaine, Han-bin was far more than just a superior.
He was her savior, the person she respected most, and the mentor who had reshaped her worldview.
Lily, once an outstanding student at Albion Royal University, still remembered vividly—
The day she was chosen as his secretary and stepped into the royal palace, how many times she had rolled around in bed, giddy with excitement.
Every footprint they left together as they transformed this kingdom.
How every moment of changing history had become a source of immense joy and purpose in her life.
"Hmm~"
On her way back after the meeting with the Chief of Police,
Lily's footsteps were as light as cotton candy dancing in a spring breeze.
Not because she could work late beside her beloved superior.
But because tucked in her pocket was a signed vacation request form.
"He's going to be so surprised."
Though she had played a little prank on him in the morning, Lily had already approved his leave.
She had only teased him for the sake of a dramatic surprise.
She had even secured a beautiful villa near the beach where they'd vacation, and she herself had taken leave to accompany him.
"Hehe."
When he found out, he'd be shocked—and overjoyed.
Just imagining his reaction made her feel like her heels were floating off the ground.
No.
Her light steps weren't just because of that.
The very idea of her first vacation with the superior she revered was exhilarating.
What kind of vacation would be best?
They could enjoy the beach together, savor fish and chips as a snack while sipping wine under a breathtaking sunset.
And when the sea breeze turned cool after dusk, they'd return to the villa for a cozy chat.
Han-bin had indulged her whims plenty—surely, for this vacation, she could let him do as he pleased.
Though it was a sliiiiightly shameless thought—
If Han-bin, swept up in the mood, tried to get romantic, she might just play along without protest.
A peck on the cheek, perhaps?
"How ridiculous."
Lily, realizing the flowery state of her mind, let out a wry smile.
There was no way he saw her in that light.
But her self-deprecating chuckle didn't last long.
"Sir Han-bin."
To maximize the surprise, she opened the office door in her usual businesslike tone—
Only for her shoulders to stiffen in shock.
Her superior, who should have been buried under paperwork at this hour, was nowhere to be seen.
And that wasn't the only oddity.
Though night had long fallen, all the lights were off, leaving the room eerily dark.
The silence was deafening.
"Sir Han-bin...?"
A creeping unease made Lily heighten her guard, channeling mana in case of danger.
Slowly approaching his desk, she found a single sheet of paper placed squarely in the center.
And then, the neatly written words in his unmistakable handwriting:
[Resigning as Minister of Internal Affairs. Do not look for me. ― Han-bin Ainsworth]
"Ah."
Lily Fontaine's legs gave way, and she slumped down heavily.