Ramen Shortage Panic and Atari Supremacy
Kim Bokhyeon of the Seongbukdong Hyundai Mansion was completely out of sorts these days. The Chilgyejang Bowl Ramen they'd just released was selling so well that even with the new production lines installed, they couldn't keep up with demand.
"Hoo..."
Han Seoyeon, the only daughter of the Hansung family. She'd warned him that if he didn't stockpile at least a few million units, he'd regret it big time later. And sure enough, the warehouse stock had vanished in the blink of an eye.
Neighborhood supermarkets were calling nonstop for more stock, and the Ministry of National Defense was clamoring to haul away truckloads. Just thinking about it made Kim Bokhyeon break out in a cold sweat on his forehead. This was a hit beyond hits.
"S-Sir!"
A factory worker burst in panting. It was Foreman Park Malsun, freshly promoted to line supervisor. With four kids at home, she never missed a day of work all year round. She was the unbreakable pillar of Hwanggeum Noodle Factory.
"Another inquiry call from somewhere?"
"No, sir. We're down to just a few pallets of Chilgyejang Bowl Ramen left in the warehouse."
"What? Just a few days ago, we had enough to cover the orders!"
"Huh? What are you talking about? The Ministry of National Defense is doubling their order."
"Where'd you hear that?"
"In the newspaper."
"...!"
Park Malsun's eyes widened in disbelief.
"No way, sir... You're not getting complacent just because we're raking it in, are you? The workers are dying out here. Please hire more people fast."
The machines had been running nonstop all day. Even the equipment from Hansung Food was going full tilt, but it was nowhere near enough for the flood of orders. The warehouse was emptying out by the hour.
Kim Bokhyeon muttered blankly.
"This is totally out of control..."
Meanwhile, Bukchangdong Mansion was swept up in the Chilgyejang aftermath too.
"Baby, baby!"
"What, nanny?"
"Look at this. Seems like Chilgyejang's causing a nationwide frenzy."
"Eek..."
The nanny brought over the newspaper.
Hiiik! I never dreamed it'd sell this well. As a ramen researcher and developer in my past life, I knew Chilgyejang packed a punch. The problem was, it was selling way better than its original history.
Nationwide shortages? The nanny tilted her head.
"Why are you so surprised, baby? Selling out is a good thing, right?"
"Sure, but supply can't keep up with demand. Still, it's good news."
The market version of Chilgyejang wasn't bad, but the military's reaction was off the charts. Soldiers loved it more than expected, and it made the papers.
Honestly, this was out of my hands. Grandpa must've headed to the office early to sort out the mess. 600,000 fixed customers from the military. Doubling that to 1.2 million? Hwanggeum could only produce about a million units a month max. Good thing we'd stockpiled millions beforehand.
Any way around this?
While pondering, I slipped into my chick outfit for kindergarten. The bright yellow getup and hat drew "aww"s from passersby.
"Have a good day, baby."
"Yeah, see you soon~"
When Mom and Dad were busy, the nanny and bodyguard took me. We arrived at Saetbyeol Kindergarten on a snazzy pony ride. Greeting me right away? None other than Jeong Haewon of the Hyundai family.
"Hmph!"
Haewon, over her defeat from the last play, held a newspaper.
"Heard Hansung's in chaos?"
"?"
"Ahem! Saw it in the paper. Grandpa says even the best product fails if you can't supply it on time."
Not wrong.
"So... um..."
Haewon fidgeted with her fingers.
"Wanna come to my house today?"
"Huh? Why me?"
"Wh-what do you mean why! Kids our age visit friends' houses, right?"
"Ehh..."
Not thrilled, but hard to refuse outright. I stared at her. Inviting me over, yet she was more nervous.
Should I? Mom and Dad kept saying to go out and play with friends instead of just reading.
"Sure. After kindergarten, let's go."
"R-really?"
"Yeah."
"No backing out later!"
"Eek..."
"Promise!"
Not content with pinky swears, she made me stamp too. Double-locked, she sighed in relief, face lighting up brighter than before.
"Hmph! I've got the best gift ready for you."
"A gift?"
"You'll flip. Hardly anyone in Korea has one. Grandpa splurged and got it from America."
Now I was curious. What could make her this excited?
"You'll be shocked!"
She repeated it till we parted.
If Bukchangdong had the Hansung family, Seongbukdong had Hyundai. The palace-like mansion dwarfed Grandpa's place several times over, filling my view.
Yep. Chairman Jeong Munju lived by "this is how you spend money."
"Wow, it's huge!"
"Ahem! Told ya? Hyundai's got villas everywhere too."
Haewon puffed her nonexistent chest, chin high, proudly touring the estate. Hilarious, but I held back a laugh. The scale was undeniable. Hansung's front yard was vast, but Hyundai's was like a school field. In the garden's center, an old man spread a newspaper wide at a white iron table. Chairman Jeong Munju of Hyundai.
"I was excited thinking my granddaughter brought a friend. It's you, eh?"
"Yes. Hello."
"Good. Can't sit idle as host. Follow me."
He wore hanbok. Snow-white durumagi with neat collar, tied strings impeccable. His snowy hair and deep wrinkles added dignity. Now I got why chairmen of this era wore hanbok—it exuded quiet authority. Grandpa did the same in his study.
Servants bustled like at Bukchangdong. After all, guest of Hyundai—and Hansung's precious only daughter. No wonder they hurried.
"Ahem! Eat up. Our chef's from Japan."
"Thanks. I'll dig in."
Rare delicacies covered the table. Glossy sashimi, neat sushi, exotic fine dishes. More banquet than meal. I savored a sushi piece with chopsticks.
Wow! Tears of joy.
Munju watched silently from the head, wary of slip-ups. Recalling nanny's perfect etiquette lessons, I ate carefully—no slurps, matching pace, back straight, head slightly bowed, posture prim.
"Ahem!"
Munju cleared his throat, averting eyes. Smacking his lips.
Phew...
Haewon's "gift" wasn't the Japanese food, right? Even Bukchangdong had top Korean chefs. Hyundai didn't outdo us there.
"All done?"
"Yes. Delicious, thank you."
"Hmph! How's Hyundai cooking?"
"...Amazing. The fish danced in my mouth."
"Yeah? This is everyday stuff. Not special just 'cause you came."
Haewon had a tsundere streak. Gruff words, but caring underneath. Probably why she was popular at Saetbyeol. Future hotel magnate vibes.
I followed her to the second floor. Pushing open massive doors like gates, a riot of colors burst forth.
"Whoa~"
A life-sized bear plush caught my eye, but one item hooked me hard, drool incoming.
"Hmph! Took forever to get that."
No way...
"Haewon unnie wanted to show me this?"
"Yup! Barely snagged it from across the ocean."
I plopped on the floor. Haewon squatted beside. We grinned, grabbing the treasure.
Atari 2600. Released in 1977, peaked early '80s. Cartridge-swapping console—plug in, play games. Peak tech of the era.
"Wanna try?"
"Can I?"
"Duh! Don't they buy you one in Bukchangdong? You could get it easy."
"True, but..."
I'd buried myself in books. Loved games, though—not as much as ramen. Always topped leaderboards on favorites.
"Lemme demo—huh?"
Haewon gaped mid-sentence. My joystick hands danced like possessed.
"Wh-what are you!?"
Exclamations followed.
Because...
Previous high score shattered!
I'd smashed her record.
"N-no way!"
"That makes it 4 wins 0 losses for me, 0-4 for you, Haewon unnie?"
"M-my week's effort..."
Haewon looked ready to bawl, utterly defeated.