Snow White Devoured by the Villain (2)
As you know, in my previous life, I was dirt poor. My wallet was always too thin, so I had no choice but to fill all three meals a day with ramen. Once I became an adult, I juggled every part-time job under the sun just to put something in my mouth. And among those, the toughest memory was the sweltering summer when I donned a cheap mascot costume to play with kids.
It was for an exhibition themed around dinosaurs and insects, and originally, my job was selling stag beetle larvae. But sales were dismal, so the boss demanded I put on a dinosaur head at the ticket booth entrance to lure in customers. What could I do? I was just a lowly part-timer. When the boss says jump, you jump, right?
So I crammed myself into that shoddy costume and endured an hour of kids beating the crap out of me while greeting guests with forced enthusiasm.
I really hustled back then...
Pity for my past self welled up inside me—the girl who'd weathered every storm to finally make it big on YouTube. That grit and patience from all those gigs were what turned me into Korea's top ramen researcher.
"Hmph! If you ask nicely now, I'll teach you what theater's all about!"
Jeong Haewon patted my shoulder, demonstrating the dignity of an older sister. Not that it fooled me—her shoulders were trembling faintly. If anything, she seemed more nervous than I was.
Snow White is the tale of a heroine overcoming peril with the help of seven dwarfs. I took a deep breath. I'd rehearsed endlessly for this day.
I stepped slowly to center stage. All eyes locked on me. A hush fell, like the air had thickened, but soon a faint smile curved my lips.
In my past life, I'd toughed it out in a crappy mascot suit, taking hits from kids. This stage fright? It was nothing.
If I'm doing this, might as well enjoy it!
The curtain rose. From center stage, I delivered my line in a clear voice.
"Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who's the fairest of them all?"
＊
Han Seongcheol hadn't expected much from the kids' play. Just child's play, right? But watching his granddaughter Han Seoyeon perform flipped his thinking entirely.
What he'd dismissed as kid stuff vanished; he sat up straight without realizing it. The girl on stage wasn't some child—it was a queen straight out of a fairy tale, dazzling under the lights.
"Heh, Woo Manager."
"Yes, Chairman-nim."
"Is that really my granddaughter?"
"Yes, Chairman-nim. Your one and only baby girl."
"Well now. I only half-listened to her ads before, but to act like this..."
Sweeping music swelled as Han Seoyeon faced the mirror with elegant gestures from center stage.
"Mirror, mirror!"
"Who's the fairest of them all?"
The audience held their breath. It was like a queen from a storybook tilting her head toward the mirror. Her black dress shimmered softly in the stage lights.
Han Seoyeon paused in silence, as if expecting an answer to burst from the glass. Then a subtle smile spread across her lips—elegant, yet chilling.
Gasp of admiration leaked from the seats. For a child, she commanded the stage flawlessly.
"Heh..."
"Incredible. Emotions no six-year-old could pull off..."
She was barely turning six, prime age for learning feelings. Other kids' acting felt awkward by comparison. Han Seoyeon's? Polished, like a pro actress giving her all.
Every expression, every gesture—natural yet calculated. Not mimicry, but as if born for the role.
"One thing's clear," Woo Shijang murmured, eyes on the stage.
"This play's star isn't Snow White."
"What do you mean?"
Han Seongcheol's question drew a knowing smile from Woo Shijang.
"I chatted once with actress Yoo Harin from the Hansung Jjapaghetti ads. She said sometimes a supporting role devours the lead."
"Devours the lead?"
"Yes. Stories revolve around protagonists. But occasionally, a side character steals it all. Take this Snow White—Snow White's the center, but the vibe, the eyes... they're on..."
"Our Seoyeon... as the Queen."
"Exactly. The protagonist gets swapped without anyone noticing."
"Heh..."
Snow White finally collapsed from the witch's poisoned apple. But eyes stayed on the witch. Her expression was terrifying.
"Kekeke, KRRA HA HA!"
Han Seongcheol burst into open laughter. Beside him, Hyundai's Chairman Jeong Munju's hands shook. He had to feel it—his granddaughter was supposed to shine, but this queen was devouring the stage.
Jeong Munju's face hardened. His kin played Snow White, yet attention had shifted. No one fretted over the fallen princess. All awaited the Queen-turned-witch's next move.
"Eeeeek!"
The curtain fell. Saetbyeol Kindergarten kids bowed together. The audience rose in thunderous applause that shook the hall.
Han Seongcheol clapped hardest, beaming at Woo Shijang.
"Woo Manager."
"Yes, Chairman-nim."
"Fine mood today. Shouldn't we treat everyone to a meal?"
"I figured, so I reserved a restaurant."
"Ho ho, you predicted this?"
"Forgive me, but yes."
"Why?"
"Baby Seoyeon's always leagues beyond other kids. She birthed items our researchers couldn't, planned outsourcing deals herself—a true genius."
Woo Shijang, stingy with praise, surrendered to her completely.
"I see. Of course. KRRA HA HA~"
Han Seongcheol stroked his chin, watching Han Seoyeon receive flowers from her father and mother amid descending kids. Still in queen garb, she held her parents' hands.
"Our Seoyeon's scary sometimes."
"...Pardon?"
Woo Shijang whipped around, stunned. The business world's tiger, builder of the Hansung empire from nothing, called his granddaughter scary?
"Even now like this—what'll she be grown? Aren't you afraid, Woo Manager?"
"Ch-Chairman-nim?"
"Past two years, every ramen she's made? Lethal hits. As you said, she orchestrated development and distribution."
Han Seongcheol stood to greet her.
"A blessing for Hansung, but our rivals? Pray for them. KRRA HA HA!"
His booming laugh echoed through the hall.
＊
"Phew."
Thankfully, the play ended smoothly. Honestly, I blanked midway. Trance state—like my body moved on autopilot, mind catching up.
Less memorizing lines and poses, more becoming the Queen on stage.
"Waaaaaah!"
The actual star, Jeong Haewon, must've resented me stealing her thunder. She burst into tears the second we exited stage.
"Sob! I'm the protagonist!"
Rubbing her eyes, she wailed.
I shrugged. Experience gap in action. My past mascot gigs helped—no nerves around kids.
They sense fakes quick; scare 'em, and sales tank. So I'd stayed cool, letting me queen it up freely.
"Well done, my granddaughter!"
Grandpa grinned, ruffling my hair big.
"Ho ho ho, you're avenging this old man's grudge. Want anything?"
He glanced at the Hyundai side, chuckling. "That Hyundai geezer won't sleep tonight. KRA HA HA HA!"
"Grandpa..."
Before his granddaughter, even a conglomerate chairman was just a giddy grandpa.
Something I want? Ah, perfect.
"Grandpa."
"Hm? What? Thought of something?"
"Yes!"
I whispered in his ear, lest anyone hear.
"Could you give me just one piece of equipment?"
His eyes widened. Kids beg for toys, not machinery—shocking.
"Equipment, eh..."
I recalled the date and spoke.
"Grandpa, Chilgyejang Bowl Ramen launches soon."
"Chilgyejang?"
"Yes!"
Prototype tests exploded—insane demand. That's why I held back full release: production couldn't keep up.
"Heh, Chilgyejang..."
Heh heh~ No way Grandpa grasps its future mega-hit status yet.
Grandpa, this is a super-duper ultra-mega blockbuster item!
I resolved: Ramen will make me the richest in Korea.