Chapter 12: A Turbulent Day (1)
Chapter 12: A Turbulent Day (1)
Peyden Castle
Located south of Falstead Castle, Peyden Castle was well known as a region where commerce flourished.
Thanks to its position at the southernmost edge of the Doren, goods coming in from neighboring kingdoms were actively traded, and the commercial district was, as always, packed with people.
However, from three shops located near the central street, sighs kept spilling out one after another.
“I didn’t think it would sell this poorly.”
“We’re striking out again today.”
“Tsk…”
The three cooks in charge of tteokbokki, fried food, and soondae respectively stared down at the bunsik they had prepared to sell.
They had poured their hearts into making it, yet it still fell short of the real thing.
Worse still, after tasting authentic bunsik from the food truck, they had even lost their confidence, leaving them without motivation.
“They say that shop in Falstead Castle is still doing well… Haah.”
For the first three days after opening, they had been so busy making bunsik for the flood of customers that they barely had time to breathe.
But after that, the number of customers gradually declined. By the end of the first week, it had dropped by half.
Ten days in, customers stopped coming altogether, and now, on the fifteenth day, the place was practically deserted.
As they passed the time without a single customer and closing time drew near, the shop’s owner, Beirut walked over with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Did anything sell today?”
At Beirut’s question, the cooks could only hang their heads and sigh.
“Hey, answer me. What happened?”
“Well, the thing is…”
“Don’t answer! I get it already!”
Bang!
Beirut lashed out, kicking an innocent box as he raised his voice.
People passing nearby glanced his way, but quickly lost interest and continued on their way.
“Water—give me some water!”
Beirut gulped down the water poured into a wooden cup.
His thirst was quenched, but his frustration remained.
“Damn it! Do you know how much money I put into this? I can’t even recover what I paid the administrators!”
“Shh! Keep your voice down!” One of the cooks hurried over to stop him.
At that point, Beirut’s resentment shifted from Jinseo to the cooks.
“You said it was good enough to sell! So why are the reactions like this?”
At his accusation, the cooks once again lowered their heads.
“Well… I thought this was just how bunsik was supposed to taste.”
“And no matter how hard we tried, recreating the real bunsik flavor just wasn’t possible. The ingredients themselves were things we don’t have here.”
“After going to eat it ourselves, the difference was obvious.”
They were cooks who took pride in their years of experience, but bunsik was a food that shattered all their prior assumptions.
Even so, what truly felt unfair to them lay elsewhere.
“And on top of that, you said something like that to the customers. Of course they stopped coming. You shouldn’t have done that.”
“……”
‘Tteok-twig-soondae is supposed to taste like this! It’s your tongues that are wrong for not understanding such a refined flavor!’
For the first few days after opening, there hadn’t been any major issues.
But once word spread from those who had ridden carriages all the way to Falstead Castle to eat the real thing, complaints and protests began pouring in.
They said the prices were several times higher while the taste was inferior to the original.
As nothing but negative reactions came back, Beirut lost his temper and branded the customers as fools who didn’t understand taste.
The result was the unsold bunsik now sitting there.
“Shouldn’t we go again and beg him to sell us the recipe? While we’re at it, maybe some of the ingredients he uses too—”
“You’re telling me to bow my head to that bastard and beg?”
“If we don’t, the shop we worked so hard to open is going to fail.”
“…This won’t do. I’ll handle it myself. You just keep the shop running.”
Having made up his mind, Beirut walked toward the outer edge of the commercial district.
The cooks shouted something after him, but he paid them no heed as he headed south.
Passing through the entertainment district reeking of alcohol, he arrived at a shabby-looking tavern.
Outwardly unimpressive, it was a place where people willing to do anything for money waited for work.
“You think I’m just going to let myself fail like this?”
Standing in front of the tavern, Beirut ground his teeth.
He wanted to teach Jinseo—who had rejected his offer—a lesson.
No matter the method.
“Just as expected, the real thing is different. That was truly satisfying.”
Albert, a noble from Peyden Castle who was visiting Jinseo’s food truck for the first time, rubbed his stomach with a satisfied expression.
After polishing off two servings of tteok-twig-soondae and taking a bite of the ice bar he had ordered for dessert, there was nothing more he could ask for.
“And to think I’d even get to see a spirit I’d only heard rumors about. The long trip here was worth it.” He smiled softly as he looked at Nero, who was floating around collecting empty plates from other tables. “You’ve helped me save face. I’m truly grateful.”
Albert turned around to look at the other customers.
The companions who had come with him were all savoring the tteok-twig-soondae they had just encountered, faces full of happiness.
They were all visitors from Peyden Castle—people who, disappointed by imitation bunsik, had come here on nothing more than the rumor that a place selling the real thing existed.
I thought I’d just run into a nuisance back then. I didn’t expect things to turn out like this.
When Jinseo first heard that someone in Peyden Castle was copying bunsik, he had secretly hoped it might serve as indirect promotion for his food truck.
But he hadn’t expected people to ride carriages all the way here just to eat the real thing.
“If I had to name one regret, it’d be that I can’t enjoy such a fine shop up close. Do you have any plans to come to Peyden Castle?”
“Not at the moment.”
Even by food truck, it took an hour to get there, making the round trip too time-consuming.
He had also used up all his coordinate slots, leaving no way to designate it as a teleport point.
And most importantly—
“Taxes?”
“The amount was higher than I expected, so I had no choice but to give up.”
Jinseo explained how he had gone near Peyden Castle but returned without even being able to start selling.
“Half of the sales? What nonsense is that? That’s absurd!”
Bang!
Albert slammed his fist down on the counter.
The surrounding customers all turned to look.
“My apologies…”
Flushing, Albert gulped down some water.
After calming himself, he cautiously checked whether the counter he had struck was damaged.
“Sir, is your hand all right—”
“I’m fine. What matters is that such a thing should never happen in Peyden Castle. I’ll report this to the lord immediately.”
“That’s not necessary—”
“No. This isn’t an issue limited to just you. Someone is clearly pulling strings behind the scenes. Despicable bastards…”
Albert bit fiercely into his ice bar, fury evident on his face.