Chapter 70: The Marquis’s Counterattack? (3)
Chapter 70: The Marquis’s Counterattack? (3)
(70/225)
“Aston, could you bring over the bunsik from that side?”
“Pardon?”
“Visually, it looks identical to what I make, but it’s important to confirm whether the taste has been copied as well. I can’t leave my spot, so I’d appreciate it.”
“Well… um…”
At Jinseo’s request, Aston hesitated and looked toward Oswald.
“Bring it.”
“Yes.”
As Aston moved into the crowd, Oswald propped his chin on his left hand and watched Marco cook.
Was it the weight of Chef Marco’s reputation, or Count Wilson’s enthusiastic praise?
At the news that the chef who had returned after three years was making the latest trend—bunsik—everyone rushed to place orders. In contrast, not a single customer came to Jinseo’s food truck.
Those who had come with Jinseo all watched him with concern. Oswald, in particular—the one who had brought Jinseo here—looked so apologetic that he could barely face him directly.
“Oswald, would you like something to drink at least? SolX Snow should be fine, right?”
When Jinseo casually offered him a canned drink, Oswald looked at him with worried eyes.
“Are you… really all right? No one is coming for your bunsik.”
“When business is good, there are times when it isn’t. Honestly, I’ve just been lucky until now.”
If Jinseo truly wanted to, he could have drawn some of the customers gathered around the opposite carriage over to his side. Aside from the tteokbokki set, his subspace storage was full of ingredients for other bunsiks. Serving them on the spot would have been enough to attract attention.
Alternatively, he could have called Nero and Owl from the additional trailer to draw eyes.
But he didn’t.
Since he didn’t yet know who was behind this or what their intention was, Jinseo decided to observe the situation quietly until he understood it. Because of that, the one growing more distressed by the minute was Oswald.
“I brought it.”
Aston set the tteokbokki set on the counter and wiped the sweat from his temples. After waiting a long time to receive it, he gulped down the canned cola Jinseo handed him.
“So this is Marco’s bunsik…”
Oswald had looked reluctant while waiting, but the moment Aston brought the food over, he swallowed hard.
“Let’s eat.”
“Understood.”
“Y-Yes!”
Oswald, Aston, and Jason each put a different item into their mouths at the same time.
Then they fell silent.
They quietly looked at Jinseo.
If they hadn’t been told it was brought from the other side, they would have mistaken it for Jinseo’s cooking—the taste was identical to the bunsik they had been eating all this time.
“This is impressive. It’s like something made by someone who worked in Korea.”
Jinseo spoke aloud what the other three couldn’t bring themselves to say.
There had been people who tried to imitate Jinseo’s bunsik before, but Marco’s skill was on an entirely different level. Not just the appearance—the taste itself was flawless. It was bunsik, through and through.
To recreate bunsik using only local ingredients… that would have required a tremendous amount of time and money, even before cooking skill came into play.
Alternating between gimbap and tteokbokki, Jinseo then drank the ramen broth he had set aside in a separate bowl.
“To reproduce even the soup base this accurately… I’m honestly impressed.”
Ramen seasoning was the result of countless researchers pooling their efforts over many years. Jinseo had simply bought and used it back in Korea, but Marco had recreated it with his own skill—and using only ingredients from the Francia Continent.
“As everyone said, he truly is an exceptional chef.”
“Well… yes.”
“But aren’t you going to eat more?”
Jinseo asked as he dipped a perfectly fried squid fritter into the tteokbokki sauce.
The other three had long since set their forks down, too conscious of Jinseo to keep eating.
Seeing this, Jinseo took out plastic bags and neatly packed the remaining items separately so they wouldn’t mix.
I’d love to eat it all, but if I’m going to analyze it properly, I don’t have a choice.
After rinsing his mouth with fish cake broth, Jinseo looked back toward the opposite carriage. It was still packed with guests lining up to taste Marco’s bunsik.
“If we try to eat there, we’ll be waiting forever.”
“They’re selling the same thing at that carriage anyway. Why don’t we go there instead? From what I hear, the place that first introduced bunsik is—”
“Here it is.”
“Oh, thank you.”
Each time guests grew tired of waiting and turned toward Jinseo’s food truck, the butlers and maids—clearly prepared for it—served Marco’s bunsik on plates.
Oswald glared at the estate staff with displeasure, then let out a deep sigh when he realized it was pointless.
“No matter how good Marco’s cooking is… it’s a shame that so many people can’t recognize that the real original is right here.”
“If you’re angry on my behalf, I appreciate it—but you don’t need to be.”
“That’s not the only reason.”
Oswald wanted to drink alcohol, but for Jinseo’s sake, he drank three cans of SolX Snow instead. His expression grew darker by the minute.
“Every time people connected to me were cornered, that man was always behind it. After becoming Lord of the Castle, I forgot about it for a while… but this brings it all back.”
As he finished speaking, Oswald glared at a man approaching from the garden entrance—the man who had blocked him at every turn, and eventually demoted him to Lord of the Castle of Falstead.
“Of course. I knew it.”
Oswald crushed the empty SolX Snow can in his hand.
When Marquis Horus appeared with his adjutant, all eyes turned toward him.
“We’ve been waiting for you!”
Count Wilson tossed aside the tteokbokki he was eating—fork and all—and rushed over.
Marco’s expression twisted sharply.
For the first time since arriving at the estate, Jinseo also frowned and stared at Wilson’s back. Carelessly treating food was something no cook could look kindly upon.
“Looks like everyone is enjoying themselves.”
“The praise has been nonstop. As expected of the chef you introduced, Marquis.”
“Well, it is Marco’s cooking, after all.”
Marquis Horus raised a hand toward Marco, who was cooking inside the carriage. Marco met his gaze briefly, then returned to his work.
“And there’s also that foreign chef everyone’s been talking about.”
As Marquis Horus stopped in front of Jinseo’s food truck, Oswald openly displayed his hostility.
“I’d like to try the bunsik made by the owner of the sacred relic…”
Trailing off deliberately, Marquis Horus looked down at Oswald sitting at the counter—a silent demand for him to move before the sentence was finished.
Any noble of the Doren Kingdom knew the relationship between the two.
As Oswald refused to budge and Marquis Horus refused to back down, the wordless standoff continued. Guests put down their forks and held their breath.
“Oswald, please leave this to me.”
“Are you sure?”
“He’s a customer, after all. He came to eat bunsik, didn’t he? Welcome. This is the food truck.”
“I’d like to try that tteokbokki set.”
“Understood.”
As usual, Jinseo served a mini tteokbokki set.
“Hm… I see.”
Marquis Horus tasted only one bite of each of the five items, then set down his fork. He only needed to confirm how closely Marco had copied Jinseo’s bunsik.
“It’s identical to Marco’s cooking.”
“That’s because the chef over there recreated my bunsik perfectly.”
Jinseo answered calmly, despite how easily the remark could be taken as crediting Marco as the originator.
“Your name is Jinseo, correct?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll say this in advance—I’m not asking you to become my exclusive chef.”
He had already heard that Jinseo had rejected Marquis Hasrak’s offer and excluded that possibility from the start.
“I hear you’re operating in five locations at the moment…”
Marquis Horus wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and examined the food truck.
“If it were me, I could help you spread bunsik across the entire Doren Kingdom. If it’s your food, I’m willing to invest.”
“Is that so?”
At Jinseo’s lukewarm response, Marquis Horus’s eyebrow twitched.
“Perhaps you don’t know much about me, being from another land.”
“That’s true.”
Despite the implicit threat beneath the offer, Jinseo’s attitude didn’t change.
“I’ll keep the terms simple. You can continue operating as you are. Same methods, same prices, same staff.”
Marquis Horus laid out his expansion plan in detail—promotion, introductions to skilled chefs, cheaper and higher-quality ingredients, and multiple food trucks instead of just one. He even mentioned prior discussions with the Heirem Order to avoid conflict over the food truck’s sacred status.
Compared to Beirut’s proposal at Peyden Castle, this one was far more polished—and far more dangerous.
“However, you must not operate near Falstead Castle. And while you may serve other customers—”
“I refuse.”
Jinseo cut him off mid-sentence.
He had already grasped Horus’s intent. Once he judged it unacceptable, continuing felt pointless.
“You should at least hear me out before deciding—”
“I’m not interested.”
As Jinseo interrupted him a second time, Marquis Horus’s adjutant stepped forward. Aston immediately extended his right arm, blocking him.
“Stand down.”
“…Understood.”
Thanks to Marquis Horus’s restraint, the confrontation did not escalate.
“Jason, put that down.”
“Ah… yes.”
Jason quietly set down the Adatium ladle he had been gripping.
One wrong move, and bloodshed could have followed.
“So… if that’s how you want to play it, I won’t push further. Still, for a chef, it’s quite an attractive offer.”
“You may not know this, but I like traveling freely and running my business that way. I can’t accept any proposal that forbids me from going to certain places or selling to certain customers without proper justification.”
“If you heard the reason, you’d consider it justified.”
“That may be true from the customer’s perspective. But banning locations and refusing customers leaves no room for compromise.”
“……”
“I’ve been in business long enough to have a decent eye for people.”
Jinseo didn’t operate on whim. He traveled often, but almost always at others’ request—with consent.
Unlike Horus.
Above all, the suspicion that Horus had orchestrated today’s events left Jinseo with no desire to shake his hand.
This is a warning. He’s showing that he can interfere with my business whenever he wants.
Judging by how he asserted dominance, Horus was even worse than Beirut.
“Then there’s nothing more for me to see here.”
Marquis Horus stood and left the garden without looking back, unwilling to show the twisted expression he could no longer hide.