Chapter 48
Chapter 48
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Raison d'Être (3)
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"Why is Ho-yeon Uncle wearing the red hat today?"
"Just felt like it today."
"I see."
I could brush it off like that with Yoon-seul, but I knew the real reason.
One of his relatives had passed away yesterday. That's why the building owner had gotten the call and rushed off.
Not an immediate family member, apparently, since he'd just shown his face at the funeral home yesterday and today.
On top of that, the text he'd sent yesterday was to let us know so we wouldn't worry unnecessarily, since he had to leave in a hurry.
He'd probably been wearing a black suit, left his jacket at home, changed just his pants, and headed back out.
He wasn't so obsessed with the red hat that he'd wear it even on a day like this.
"Is the shop closed today?"
"Nah, I prepped all the meat I needed to handle and left it to Auntie and the part-timers. I called earlier, and there are fewer customers than usual today.
Better than something blowing up while I'm gone."
He shrugged his shoulders and flashed a casual smile, like it was no big deal.
I'd been curious why a guy who'd been to a funeral the day before had stopped by our shop, and was about to ask when
- We'll take care of the bill.
A bunch of customers who'd finished eating crowded the counter, buying me some time.
"Sorry for the commotion while you were eating. He's an acquaintance of mine. Things got a bit rowdy playing around."
- No! It was fun, it's fine.
Luckily, most of the customers who'd stuck around were regulars, so it was easy to smooth things over.
Watching that, Ho-yeon Hyung looked apologetic, pressing his palms together and bowing his head slightly.
Yoon-seul, next to him, thought the pose was funny and copied it exactly.
Now it was just the three of us left in the shop.
"I heard Min-gu stopped by here yesterday, so I figured I'd swing by too."
Min-gu?
An old contract form popped into my head.
That was the name written on it.
Jeong Min-gu, the owner of this building, had dropped by yesterday.
I'd been wondering why he'd come at that hour, and Ho-yeon Hyung must have picked up on it.
He spoke first.
"No buddies to call out at this hour, and no mood to head back to the shop and work.
Thought about grabbing a drink, but couldn't think of a good spot for solo booze."
He subtly pulled a bottle of soju from his bag.
And gave a hollow smile.
"Could you whip up some anju for me?"
"Just be careful around Yoon-seul, and I'll hook you up."
"Ooh, that's my boy Song Joo-hyun! True disciple. Thanks!"
Making a little anju wasn't a big deal.
More than that, this was a chance.
A chance to test the trigger food effect again.
I pulled pork neck from the fridge.
"Was thinking of making some seasoned pork with this, so I grabbed some. Perfect timing."
Seeing me hold up the neck meat from the bar table, Hyung chimed in.
"Huh? What's that. Pork neck? You gonna grill it?"
"Yeah, that cool?"
"More than cool."
Pork neck salt grill.
Super simple, but with a strong meaty aroma that some foodies love.
It was also Ho-yeon Hyung's trigger food, but not because he was a foodie.
There was another reason.
A few years back.
At least three years after I started working at [Red Pig].
There was one day when Hyung looked like death warmed over the whole time he was open.
Unprecedented.
He's so upbeat, almost optimistically positive.
That day worried me a bit, so after my shift, I grabbed two cans of beer from the nearby convenience store.
'Boss, wanna have one?'
'Sure, why not?'
I knew he liked booze but couldn't drink much because of work, so it seemed like a light way to cheer him up.
'Something wrong?'
'Nah, nothing for me. Just ran the shop all day.'
'But your face says otherwise. Got some worries?'
'Worries... yeah, worries.'
He cracked open the beer and chugged it down.
Clang-
Then slammed the can down hard, like he was hitting a table.
'Wish it was something I could worry over.'
That expression was the darkest I'd ever seen on Jin Ho-yeon's face.
'She passed away.'
'Who?'
'My lifesaver.'
The story I heard that day was hard to believe.
Twenty years ago, Jin Ho-yeon had desperately wanted to die.
That kind of story.
Rather than any clear vision, the early-20s Jin Ho-yeon had come to Seoul on guts and grit alone, and one day suffered a massive setback.
Making a living solo wasn't as easy as he'd thought.
Still, better than a rural nothing-but-fields village, right?
That's what he figured, but Seoul felt as cold and lonely as winter even in summer.
He couldn't take it.
Caught in an economic downturn, he felt infinitely small.
Those feelings and history were beyond my rash reckoning.
'I spotted the coal briquettes the landlady had left on the roof.'
So, in his sealed-up 5-pyeong rooftop room, acrid smoke filled the air, his breathing grew labored.
That's when he regretted it like mad.
'Turns out I didn't want to die. Figured it out right as I was dying. I wanted to live well enough to die satisfied, but I'd mistaken it.'
But by then, he'd inhaled carbon monoxide for too long.
Way too late.
Severe dizziness squeezed his brain, his body wouldn't obey, foam felt like it would bubble from his mouth like squeezed juice.
- What the hell do you think you're doing, you fool!
The landlady grandma picked the lock and came in.
Laid him on the roof, helped him deep-breathe for a while.
Pounded his back.
Wiped the vomit and saliva off him.
Stayed until he came back to his senses.
It was sorry for her too.
Using her briquettes without asking.
As a tenant dying alone in the room would've been a huge hassle for her.
Still, she said nothing, called him out, and took him to an old-school pork shop.
- Eat.
No scolding.
- Their pork neck's the best.
Two servings from her regular spot.
- My favorite place.
She ordered for him.
That pork neck she grilled was so tasty and grateful.
He thought he needed to pull himself together.
Push a bit harder,
earn some money,
and one day become the owner of a shop selling meat this delicious.
That's when he dreamed that dream.
'But she passed away. The old pork shop's still there, so I stopped by.
They remembered me as a regular, confirmed she's gone.'
'....'
Hyung smiled weakly, lightly clenching and unclenching his bangs with his hand.
'Truth is, I wanted to grill meat at my shop and feed her.
Grow the place a bit more first. Just a little longer. Make it a proper shop.
One good enough she'd approve.
Become that kind of owner.
Go to her and say, you saved me,
and now I'm grilling meat this good.
Brag like that.'
Silence for a moment.
'Too late now. Didn't even say thanks.'
We talked late into the night, and I understood Jin Ho-yeon better.
From then on, our bond as two guys grew tighter.
- You'll make it if you keep going. Don't give up.
For someone so upbeat, those weighty words came from that history. I got it then.
Hiring a shaky high schooler like kid-me as part-timer, teaching me stuff, looking out for me.
Readily giving up a corner of his room and supporting village-boy Min-gu-ssi.
Probably reasons like that.
He couldn't repay that grandma's grace, so he had to pass it on to someone.
Maybe that sense of debt drove Jin Ho-yeon's actions.
No wonder he'd been asking around about her grave lately.
Couldn't meet her since she was gone, but wanted to pay respects at least.
Sizzle—
A chunk of pork neck hits the oiled pan. Oil bubbles erupt violently into the air.
"Loud one."
Hyung, listening to the kitchen sounds, commented.
"Not using charcoal like that place, so the aroma won't be as good. Ours is gas fire."
"Hey! Don't expect charcoal smoke from a non-meat specialist. That's fair enough, kid."
Sprinkled heavy with salt and pepper, the neck sizzles evenly like steak.
The golden-brown Maillard on the surface looks mouthwatering.
Around medium-well, I pull it off and rest it.
Pork needs to be super well-done? Prejudice.
Medium to medium-well is plenty edible.
Parasite debates exist, but given modern farming, total nonsense—per 20-year pork vet Jin Ho-yeon.
I plate it flat and slice evenly with a kitchen knife.
Pink grain gleams softly inside.
"Texture's gonna be killer."
Neck can get chewy if overdone, but this should be nicely chewy.
Placing the grilled neck on the bar table where Ho-yeon Hyung sat, the 5-year-old beast beside him reacted fiercer.
"Meat!"
"Knew you'd say that, so I grilled one for Yoon-seul too. Yours."
I'd done a smaller piece for her.
Since I'd fed her dinner earlier.
"Would've been jealous if Yoon-seul got some and not me."
She clapped her tiny hands—clap clap clap.
Hyung went to pour the soju, but I took the bottle. Poured it into a water glass for him.
"No soju glasses, sorry."
"A glass is better than nothing. Bottling it at my age is overkill."
Glug glug—
Filled it halfway, and he said "Thanks," before wetting his throat first.
Then picked up a piece, sliced evenly.
Lifted it.
Popped it in his mouth.
Crunch crunch—
As Hyung chewed, his pupils shook like a spindle.
Then his tension melted away.
**
"Huh...?"
He came to.
Or had he?
A rough, wrinkled hand gripped his arm tight, catching his eye.
When had it happened,
and why was he being led down this roadside,
memory fuzzy,
until he blankly stared at that back—much smaller than his own shadow in the sun.
Didn't take long to realize.
The rooftop landlady grandma.
Jin Ho-yeon tried deep breaths to steady his still ragged breathing, but it just brought murky coughs.
'Taking me to the hospital?'
But the direction felt more toward the market. Soon, they arrived at an old-school shop with a retro 20th-century sign.
Smack in the bustling market crowd.
- Sit.
The grandma, composed, sat first and glared at Jin Ho-yeon.
Unable to resist, he hunched and hesitantly took the seat across from her.