Entrusting Outsourced Production
“Baby! Look at this!”
The nanny came rushing over with a newspaper, spreading it out in front of me. The front page was dominated by a huge headline about Nongwon's Tado-myeon.
“Looks like Nongwon pushed past us to claim the number one spot in sales. Baby, check this out—our Hansung Jjapaghetti is in second place!”
Just as the nanny said, number one was Nongwon's Tado-myeon, with Hansung Jjapaghetti right behind in second. It had finally been knocked off the top spot.
The power of advertising really is something else.
Nongwon had poured massive ad budgets into prime-time slots, bombarding viewers with Tado-myeon commercials featuring popular actors. They'd stolen everyone's attention, and now the results were showing.
“Baby, what are we going to do? At this rate, the whole family might get kicked out of the mansion.”
“That won't happen. This is just temporary.”
“...You really think so?”
“Yes. You can trust me on this.”
In the end, taste was what mattered most in food. Tado-myeon was no joke—it was a product Nongwon had put real effort into. With a Scoville rating pushing 20,000 and a bold concept that screamed challenge in this era, it was more than enough to spark curiosity among the youth.
But.
Tado-myeon wasn't addictively spicy. It was just painfully hot. The intense burn that numbed your mouth was powerful at first, but after a few bites, your tongue gave out. It just made you sweat buckets and chug water, without that depth that made you crave another bite.
Times like this called for developing my own ramen. Haeguri, blending the flavors of sea and land. Using my future knowledge, the soup development for Haeguri was nearly complete. Once Dr. Lee told me the launch timing, I'd invest every bit of the 2 billion won from Grandpa into production.
I stared holes through the newspaper. It listed the domestic ramen sales rankings in detail.
1st: Tado-myeon
2nd: Hansung Jjapaghetti
3rd: Sanmi Ramen
4th: Sichuan Hansung Jjapaghetti
5th: Konggogi Ramen
Something odd stood out in the rankings. One ramen that would soon be called the emperor of cup ramen was missing—the Chilgyejang Bowl Ramen.
It had racked up 5.2 billion cumulative sales in my past life. A prototype should have hit shelves by now without surprise.
I narrowed my eyes and scanned the list again. Nope, still gone.
No way...
Nongwon's Tado-myeon, which hadn't existed in original history. And Chilgyejang Bowl Ramen, which should have been out already.
“!”
The history of ramen had veered off the track I knew.
＊
Division Head Jang Sehun let out a hearty laugh for the first time in ages.
“Kukuku, kuhahaha!”
Even as his secretary peeked in from outside, he didn't stop. It was because of the newspaper splashed across the headlines.
“Advertising hits like a truck, as expected. Overtaking Hansung Jjapaghetti like this...”
Domestic market share had shifted too, reclaiming what Hansung had stolen.
If things kept going this way, maybe he could aim higher than division head—vice president, even?
“Uncle!”
“Oh, Jieun's here?”
“Yes. I heard the news. Congratulations.”
Seo Jieun, entering the office, handed him a bouquet.
“Thanks.”
Jang Sehun sniffed the flowers and smiled in satisfaction.
“Flipping the industry with one ad campaign... Uncle, you're amazing.”
“Kuhuhu, this is just the beginning. I'll flood not just broadcast TV but radio too.”
“Won't that cost a fortune? Booking big celebrities in this country isn't cheap.”
“I covered it elsewhere.”
“...Elsewhere?”
“Yeah.”
A thick report thudded onto the desk in front of her. Bold letters screamed across the cover.
“I had to fight hard to push this through.”
“Chilgyejang... that's the cup ramen, right? The spicy twist on our existing bowl ramen?”
He tapped the report cover at her words.
“Chilgyejang isn't bad. But cup ramen is way less efficient than bagged. Higher costs, bulkier packaging—households struggle to store it. Bottom line: no reason for consumers to buy it.”
“...Is that so?”
Seo Jieun thought differently but kept quiet. Jang Sehun might look the part, but he was a veteran of the industry who'd clawed his way to division head.
“Trust me. Chilgyejang would be a risk for Nongwon.”
She closed her eyes. He wasn't wrong. Nongwon's mild soup bowl ramen hadn't sold as hoped.
Is it really because it's cup ramen?
An ominous feeling flickered deep in her chest. It felt like the mysterious figure behind Hansung Food's Jjapaghetti was watching Nongwon.
No, probably not. Just coincidence.
To her, Chilgyejang seemed less competitive than the fresh Tado-myeon anyway.
It'll be fine...
She pushed down her unease.
＊
I'm the type who can't stand not knowing. As a ramen researcher, I never judge a product's success by market reports or ad effects alone—I have to taste it and check the cooking process myself to feel satisfied.
That curiosity is what led to my successes as a domestic ramen researcher in my past life.
Chilgyejang hasn't launched. It should be on shelves by now...
Tado-myeon's release timing perfectly overlapped with Chilgyejang's disappearance. That's why I'd pushed so hard with Hansung Jjapaghetti and Haeguri—to counter it.
Originally, I'd planned to steal Chilgyejang. But Hansung Food's daily capacity was fixed. Sure, it was a mega-hit, but as a derivative, its combo value lagged behind others.
Hansung Jjapaghetti paired with Haeguri or anything else. Chilgyejang Bowl Ramen didn't mix well.
Yet Nongwon hadn't released the Chilgyejang I'd long abandoned.
That meant one thing.
Nongwon's shelved Chilgyejang Bowl Ramen for now!
And the reason? Probably their shiny new Tado-myeon.
“Dr. Uncle.”
“Yes, Baby.”
I sipped my cocoa casually. The sweet flavor calmed my racing thoughts.
“Do we have any spare equipment at the company right now?”
“What kind of line?”
“Hehe~ An idea just flashed through my head. I think this ramen would sell like crazy.”
“Another one? You don't mean you're planning to develop even more ramen, do you?”
“...Yeah. Too much?”
“Hmm...”
Dr. Lee hesitated before speaking carefully.
“We could make it work. But we'd have to halt other production.”
“Other production?”
Hansung Food made more than just ramen before. Like...
“We're also producing seasonings.”
“Soy sauce, doenjang, gochujang, right?”
“Yes. Steady sellers even without R&D costs.”
Ah... Should I run to Grandpa and beg blindly? But with Hansung Jjapaghetti, Sichuan Hansung Jjapaghetti, and soon Haeguri—all in such a short time—it might burden the company too much.
I pondered, then shot to my feet.
Wait, there's a way to produce Chilgyejang!
The spark: outsourced production. If equipment's short, borrow from elsewhere.
With over 2 billion won from Grandpa, plus upcoming royalties, money wasn't an issue.
A few days later.
I looked up at the weathered sign.
🪧 Hwanggeum Noodle Factory 🪧
This was the place to produce my new product in my stead.
As a tiny girl barely waist-high appeared with a middle-aged man, the factory workers' eyes turned to us.
“Who're you folks?”
“Ah, we're from here.”
Dr. Lee handed over a business card. The balding man squinted— the factory president.
“Hansung Food? Hansung Group subsidiary?”
“Yes. Specifically, the ramen division.”
“Ramen, huh... What brings a ramen company here?”
“We're looking to outsource production.”
“Outsource? Why would Hansung—?”
“Well...”
Stumped, Dr. Lee nudged my side subtly. His job was done.
I'd wanted to come alone, but who would believe a little girl—a girl, no less—outsourcing factory production? So, one guardian it was.
Hwanggeum Noodle Factory was one of Korea's oldest in my past life. Outdated compared to modern setups, but the craftsmanship shone through. It met my expectations perfectly—the interior was spotless. Machines hummed lowly amid flour scents, buzzing with life.
“Hello? I'm Han Seoyeon.”
“Uh, yeah. I'm Kim Bokhyeon. But what brings a little kid here?”
The president looked awkward as the girl—young enough to be his daughter—greeted him.
“I want to contract with your factory.”
“What? You?”
He pointed at himself.
“With us?”
I grinned.
“Yes. Officially outsourcing to you, President. Hmm, shall we start light with 500,000 units?”
“!”
The product to make here: Nongwon's planned Chilgyejang Bowl Ramen. A super-hit with 5.2 billion cumulative sales in my past life.