Chapter 32: It’s a Festival, Not a Funeral (7)
Chapter 32: It’s a Festival, Not a Funeral (7)
“I couldn’t forget that taste, so I tried using magic to recreate it myself, but in the end I couldn’t get the flavor I wanted. I just ended up wasting perfectly good ice cream for nothing.”
“Didn’t you receive quite a generous amount, including portions for your disciples?”
“When even professors who normally don’t eat it joined in and finished it off, it disappeared faster than I expected. And since everyone’s tastes are different, some types were left uneaten even when we had them. As for me, I really can’t stand ice cream that’s too hard.”
By now, Painfolt had finished off his NuX Bar and was licking the chocolate coating stuck to the middle of the stick.
“Anyway, running into a kraken… I’m not sure whether to call that good luck or bad luck. Surprisingly, kraken materials are quite hard to obtain.”
“I’ve heard as much.”
“They don’t appear in fixed locations like dungeons. Most of the time, they suddenly surface in the middle of the sea, so they’re difficult to hunt deliberately.”
“Then they must be quite valuable.”
“Didn’t you save my disciples from that kraken? For a benefactor, this much is only right.”
Jinseo’s exploits against the kraken became a hot topic even within the Mage Tower. Rumors about his unusual combat strength had been circulating for some time, but this was the first time he had demonstrated it in front of so many people, so the impact was even greater. Above all, the fact that it wasn’t a knight or a mage, but a cook, who had done such a thing made it more than enough to fuel endless discussion.
“Jinseo, I’m grateful to you.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you for something this precious.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“…Pardon?”
Painfolt pulled out several large plastic bags from subspace one after another, all of them stuffed full of ice cream wrappers.
“You see, while you were away, didn’t you store the ice cream in my subspace?”
Painfolt began calmly explaining what had happened at the Mage Tower during Jinseo’s absence. Not being a sociable person to begin with, he usually spent his time alone without much conversation unless something important came up. On top of that, bearing the title of Archmage only made most mages in the tower even more intimidated by him.
However, while Jinseo was traveling with the procession, the mages had no choice but to meet with him for the sake of ice cream. As these forced encounters between the mages and Painfolt repeated, a different kind of relationship gradually formed.
“Dean, it seems you usually prefer the NuX Bar.”
“Do you like this one too?”
“I don’t dislike it, but since I prefer a firmer texture, I lean more toward the BoX Bar…”
“BoX Bar? BoX Bar? Isn’t that just a block of ice pretending to be ice cream?”
What started as light conversation over differing ice cream preferences eventually flowed naturally into discussions about magic, their shared common ground. Eventually, Painfolt even joined student debates directly, engaging in in-depth discussions on magic.
In the past, he had spent most of his time shut away in his laboratory, but now he was different.
“I’ve only just realized that there’s much to learn from younger people as well. When I think about it, I was young once too… I was foolish.”
Previously, Painfolt would come alone to the food truck, and any Mage Tower mages who happened to encounter him would greet him and then quietly eat at a table far away. Even now, no other mages sat at the counter with him. Still, the fact that they were now gathered at the table directly behind him, rather than far off in the distance, was enough for Jinseo to sense that the distance between them had narrowed considerably.
Perhaps because of that, Painfolt’s expression, meeting Jinseo after a long time, was richer than before.
“If I had approached them more warmly like that, things with my granddaughter might not have turned out this way.”
“…Are you talking about the Cardinal?”
“Oh dear, that’s not why I came here today. I nearly forgot.”
Ignoring Jinseo’s question, Painfolt changed the subject.
“Five servings of tteok-twig-sun, five NuX Bars, and cola and soda in 1.5-liter bottles, please.”
“Not just one serving?”
“I’m not eating it myself. I have something that needs to be delivered far away.”
“You’re delivering it personally, Dean?”
The king of the Doren Kingdom, Philip III, sat upon his throne, staring straight ahead.
“Hm.”
He tapped the armrest with his right hand, unable to fully hide his impatience. As everyone remained silent, gauging his mood, a solemn atmosphere filled the royal palace.
Paaaat.
A brilliant light flooded the audience chamber. Moments later, as the light faded, an elderly mage appeared atop the magic circle installed in one corner of the hall.
“It’s been a long time, Painfolt.”
“Have you been well, Your Majesty?”
After offering a respectful greeting, Painfolt handed a black plastic bag to a waiting maid. The maids separated the bunsik inside the bag by type and arranged them on plates. Shortly after, two maids alternated in tasting the food, confirmed it was free of poison, and quietly stepped back.
“Then I may eat.”
Stepping down from the throne, Philip III grasped a plastic fork and lifted the plate of tteokbokki. The guards remained silent, yet their pupils wavered at the bunsik aroma spreading through the hall.
“It’s spicy, just as rumored. But it’s not merely spicy.”
After taking a bite of tteokbokki, Philip III sipped the soda poured into a glass by a maid. He blinked, then raised the glass before his eyes.
“This fizzy sensation… how intriguing.”
Every movement and reaction as he slowly and leisurely enjoyed the food drew everyone’s gaze. Perhaps because of that, no one noticed—except Painfolt and Duke Layton.
So food like this existed? Sister, I want to eat more of this… should I ask for another poison check?
The faces of the maids who tasted the bunsik looked unusually happy.
If I’d known this, I would have forced myself to take leave when that food truck came.
Exactly…
The bunsik Jinseo sold was available only during his stay in the capital. Many in the capital never had the chance to eat it, and to them, bunsik remained a fantasy dish that stirred the imagination.
After hearing the rumors belatedly, the king had sent a royal mage to Painfolt with a request: if inviting the food truck to the palace was impossible for now, then at least allow him to taste the much-talked-about bunsik.
“It feels a bit unfair for me to eat alone.”
Perhaps feeling burdened by all the attention, Philip III handed spare plastic forks to those around him. As the king, the head chef, Duke Layton, and other nobles all enjoyed the food together, the maids swallowed their saliva.
“Oooh…”
“I never imagined such a taste could exist!”
“It truly deserves to be called a specialty of Falstead Castle.”
“Indeed, tteokbokki should be spicy like this.”
“Duke Layton, you seem like someone who has already tasted this dish called tteok-twig-sun.”
The king noticed that Duke Layton’s reaction differed from the others.
“Yes. I was fortunate enough to try it. Though it’s a pity there’s no ramen or gimbap this time.”
Duke Layton smiled, recalling the bunsik he had eaten before. Meanwhile, unlike the others, the head chef sampled the food with a serious expression.
“The ice cream, cola, and soda weren’t made by that cook himself, but purchased elsewhere, correct?”
“That’s right.”
Watching the others enjoy the food from afar, Painfolt stroked his beard as he replied.
“A country capable of producing such cuisine in large quantities… if nothing else, their food culture seems far ahead of ours. I’d like to visit such a place myself.”
“I’d like to see it as well.”
“That aside, I wish to enjoy bunsik a bit more. Head chef, with your skills, could you make this dish called tteok-twig-sun?”
The king asked as he slid over a plate containing only leftover tteokbokki sauce.
“I regret to say, Your Majesty, but it would be impossible at present.”
“Even with skills that have always satisfied my palate?”
“The issue lies not in skill, but in the ingredients. Many of those used in this bunsik are things I have never seen before.”
“Haa… then it can’t be helped.”
Philip III sighed regretfully and mixed the remaining soondae into the tteokbokki sauce.
“Painfolt, may I ask you another favor?”
“I will answer within the bounds of what is possible.”
“Not immediately, but I wish to invite a foreign cook named Lee Jinseo to the royal palace. I would also like to see the food truck, the holy relic of the Hierem Order, with my own eyes.”
“I will speak to him.”
Painfolt replied, turning his gaze aside, because the tteokbokki sauce dripping down Philip III’s beard bothered him far too much.
Under the warm morning sunlight, Jinseo stood outside the bank, looking down at the passbook in his hand.
“At last… no, it’s already all paid off.”
After his parents passed away, he had repaid his debts little by little while running Jinseo’s Snack Bar alone. Yet after obtaining the food truck and steadily accumulating profits from selling bunsik on the Francia Continent, he had paid off all his debts—and still had enough left to secure a lease, a staggering sum displayed in his account.
In particular, the earnings from accompanying Oswald’s procession accounted for the largest share of repaying those debts. Before getting the food truck, his shoulders would unconsciously hunch every time he entered a bank. From now on, he could walk in with his head held high.
“Hahaha…”
A laugh slipped out of Jinseo as his mood lifted. The joy he felt now was too precious to keep to himself alone. Unfortunately, the parents he wished to share it with were no longer by his side.
Sitting on a bench near the bank, Jinseo took out a photo from his wallet.
“Dad, Mom. I did it. I did well, didn’t I?”
He gently traced the family photo and lifted his head.
“I can move into a house much bigger than the one we used to live in. I can buy the best fishing gear Dad always wanted. Mom, from now on you won’t have to take the bus to church—you can ride in your own car.”
Recalling, one by one, the regrets his parents had voiced before they passed away, Jinseo let his words trail off. Folding the passbook and tucking it away, he slowly looked left and right. He was alone on the bench, and no reply came back.
“So please, don’t worry.”
One of the first goals Jinseo set after obtaining the food truck was clearing his debts. Perhaps because he had achieved it far faster than expected, he even felt a sense of emptiness.
Part of him wanted to take a break from business for a while and enjoy a leisurely life in Korea rather than on the Francia Continent. But the hesitation lasted only a moment.
Shaking off the hollowness, Jinseo stood up from the bench. Today as well, he would go to meet the customers in another world who were waiting for his bunsik.
“Then… I’ll get back to work.”