Rowing Hard into the Military Market
"What? So you want to supply to the military bases?"
"Yes. The soldier uncles protect our country and work so hard all the time. I just want to give them some warm Hansung Jjapaghetti on cold days."
Soldiers were an indispensable consumer group in the ramen business. This country had a standing army of nearly 600,000 troops. Under the mandatory service system, hundreds of thousands of young men enlisted every year, spending nearly two years cooped up in barracks. That meant a stable, massive fixed demand base.
Moreover, national security was the top priority in this era. Boosting troop morale and welfare was directly tied to the nation's prestige. If Hansung Jjapaghetti got adopted as a barracks snack? Divisions and regiments across the country—from frontline GOP outposts to rear bases—would snap it up overnight. And those soldiers, hooked on Hansung's flavor until discharge day, would naturally crave it even after returning to civilian life.
Grandfather's eyes flashed at that. He seemed to smell the money like a shark sensing blood.
"Hoho, our Seoyeon's playing a terrifying game here. In go terms, she'd be a general."
It was a strategy that could flip the domestic ramen market share in one stroke—if executed right. Of course, it hinged on one prerequisite.
"...We'll need to ramp up production facilities. We're barely keeping up with current orders as it is."
I crawled into Grandfather's warm embrace like a kitten. He gently stroked my hair.
"What do you think, Grandfather? Did Seoyeon do well?"
"Of course. You're the luck charm of Hansung, my dear. Kuhahaha!"
Strike while the iron's hot. A few days later, a guest arrived at our house.
"So you're the famous only daughter of the Hansung family, Han Seoyeon?"
"Yes. Hello, sir."
"Good. Where's Chairman Han?"
"In the study."
"Tsk tsk... Seoyeon, was it? You're remarkably bold for your age."
The elder before me was none other than Woo Jaeha, the Minister of National Defense. Securing military contracts for Hansung Jjapaghetti required some serious connections. I held my breath, looking up at him.
The Defense Minister commanded the entire military. He was the man who could decide the meals for hundreds of thousands of troops nationwide.
"Is everything ready?"
"Yes, sir."
The servants bustled about at my words. Today was a big day: the tasting event where I'd serve the minister the Hansung Jjapaghetti I'd developed. Turn him into a slave to its flavor, and the military contract would flow smoothly. Well, that was my little secret motive, not for public display.
"Hee hee~"
Minister Uncle! Welcome to Hansung's ant hell.
Woo Jaeha couldn't hide his puzzlement at being invited by Han Seongcheol of all people. The chairman had always kept his distance from politics. He'd never dreamed of an invitation to the mansion.
"Welcome, Minister Woo."
"How have you been, Chairman Han?"
"Hohoho, you look brighter than ever."
"How could a day-laborer like me dare hear such words before the chairman?"
Woo Jaeha flashed a warm, affable grin and joked good-naturedly.
"Hah, without talents like you, Minister, how would the country run properly?"
The two shared a laugh. They'd actually met a few times before and hit it off right away—surprisingly well-matched.
"The reason I summoned my busy minister friend is a small favor."
"A favor?"
"You're facing supply issues for the troops these days, aren't you?"
"...!"
The military lacked a proper meal system. Supplies focused on long-shelf-life foods, prioritizing calories and preservation over taste. This bred constant grumbling among the ranks. Conditions were especially harsh at GOP outposts and mountain units near the ceasefire line. Winters made it worse—blizzards or ice blocked supply trucks, causing endless headaches.
If a reliably suppliable military ration existed? The army would jump at it.
"Chairman, do you perhaps...?"
Instead of answering, Han Seongcheol clapped. Moments later, servants wheeled in a cart and set a bowl before each man.
"What's this?"
"Try it first."
He picked up elegant chopsticks etched with fine patterns and lifted some glossy black noodles. A rich bean sauce aroma wafted up, teasing his senses relentlessly.
"This is...?"
Woo Jaeha's brows twitched. No mistaking it. Anyone who didn't recognize it would be a spy. Hansung Jjapaghetti was one of the nation's top-selling foods right now. Even the jingle from the ads was earworm material.
On Sundays, I'm the Hansung Jjapaghetti chef!
Woo Jaeha had one son, married with a boy and girl. His granddaughter adored that jingle.
"Hah, what an incredible smell. My mouth won't stop watering."
He took a bite of Hansung Jjapaghetti.
"Slurp!"
Chewy noodles snapped satisfyingly between his teeth, the thick jjajang sauce coating his tongue deeply. Surprise spread across Woo Jaeha's face. His tight lips curved into a subtle smile.
"Amazing. How does ramen pack such depth of flavor?"
"Hohoho, want to know something even more shocking?"
He tilted his head at Han Seongcheol's musing. A sudden ramble?
"The one who developed Hansung Jjapaghetti is none other than my granddaughter."
"What, what?!"
Bang!
The chair toppled as Woo Jaeha shot to his feet. People dismissed ramen as mere hunger-filler, but that was wrong. The current regime, led by the president, was pushing it as a core military staple. Which made Hansung Jjapaghetti revolutionary—balanced taste and nutrition.
"So you're saying your granddaughter developed this Hansung Jjapaghetti?"
Han Seongcheol nodded.
"Why not discuss the details with her directly, instead of me?"
"With your granddaughter?"
He recalled the little girl at the mansion entrance before entering the study. His own granddaughter was around that age. But her demeanor felt different—worldly, like a battle-hardened negotiator, despite looking barely five.
"Hah, are all chaebol kids like this?"
"What do you mean?"
Woo Jaeha chuckled wryly at Han Seongcheol's question. The Hansung family was secretly raising a secret weapon.
"Fascinating. To think our country has a monster like this... one with nine tails, like the legendary beast."
Ugh...
The military's top brass was staring me down. I kept my head meekly bowed, fiddling with my fingers.
The room fell silent for a moment.
"Hoo, I just can't believe it. A little girl like you developed Hansung Jjapaghetti? It's beyond comprehension..."
Disbelief and awe mingled in Woo Jaeha's voice. He peered down at me, narrowing his eyes as if verifying I was real.
"Is it truly... your creation?"
"Yes. I developed Hansung Jjapaghetti."
"Hah, this is insane. Who knew we had talent like this in the country..."
With my confirmation, he no longer saw me as a child—but a business equal.
"I see. The chairman said to talk to you, and now I get why. I'm too stunned for words."
Thankfully, the heavy mood lightened. Light refreshments were served, servants withdrew, and Grandfather just sat listening with eyes closed.
"You're really the one who thought of supplying the military?"
"Yes. I asked Grandfather. The soldier uncles work so hard for the country—I wanted to treat them to a warm bowl of ramen on cold days."
"Kekekeke~ What a fine mindset. Yes, this land isn't safe from the red commie scum yet. Excellent idea."
Woo Jaeha was a soldier to the bone. Soon, he'd be Hansung Food's VIP client. I could butter him up a hundred times and it wouldn't be enough.
"But there's a problem."
"Yes? What is it?"
"I know Hansung Jjapaghetti's delicious—I've tasted it. But eating the same flavor forever? You'll tire of it eventually. Got a plan for that?"
He wasn't wrong. Even the best food grows old after a week straight. Ramen boasted endless varieties, and I knew every recipe by heart.
I had my answer ready.
"Yes. Ways to add more flavors."
"Hoh, really? Mind sharing?"
I opened cautiously.
"Minister Uncle, do you ever sprinkle chili powder on jjajangmyeon?"