Making the Magic Additive
Young-hoon had come in early and spent the entire workday glued to the phone until quitting time, and now his throat was paying for it.
Good grief — Deputy Hong had dumped such an enormous pile of crap that it took a full day just to clean up after him. The retail shop owners kept asking why Young-hoon was the one calling to collect product orders, and the factory shipping team and the distribution center staff were no different. After repeating the same answer to the same question a dozen times, his head was starting to ache too.
Meanwhile, the thought of Deputy Hong out there living it up while he himself was working himself to the bone made his blood boil so much he could barely stand it. Well, considering how much cursing that bastard attracted, he'd probably coast along healthy until a hundred. The man was a walking waste of a life.
By the time Young-hoon had ground through the overtime and finally clocked out, it was ten at night. Back home, everything felt like too much trouble. He washed up quickly and crawled into bed. The nightmare of a day was finally over.
Saturday. A day off, so he slept in and rose at a lazy hour. After a late breakfast-slash-lunch, he knocked out the week's worth of overdue chores. He cleaned while the washing machine ran, hung the laundry out to dry, and before he knew it, it was three in the afternoon. He stretched out for another indulgent nap and woke at six in the evening.
Time to make himself something to eat. Or just buy something. But going outside felt like a hassle, and when he opened the fridge, there was nothing in it.
'Ah, I'll just grab some groceries at the mart and cook at home. I'll buy just enough for a quick meal — and while I'm at it, I should finally try making that wine additive Hains was so fond of. Hold on, wait. What were the ingredients again?'
Young-hoon pulled a notebook out of his desk drawer and copied the wine additive ingredients he'd jotted down earlier onto a memo sheet.
Three types of mushrooms: one shiitake, one oyster mushroom, one enoki. Three types of fruit: one apple, one pear, one persimmon. Five types of vegetables: one onion, one zucchini, one green pepper, one carrot, one tomato.
"Everything else I get, but what the heck does an enoki mushroom look like? Eh, I'll figure it out at the mart. Also — is a tomato a vegetable? I thought it was a fruit..."
After a trip to the mart and a hasty dinner, Young-hoon set about making the wine additive in earnest, following the Grand Archmage Hains's recipe.
"Let's see... first, chop the ingredients up finely, grind them, and extract the juice, it says?"
Young-hoon didn't bother with anything as fussy as peeling — he hacked everything into chunks, dumped it all into the blender, and pressed the button without a moment's hesitation, pulverizing the lot with ferocious efficiency. Bits of peel remained here and there, but the juice was complete regardless.
"And then... put it into a magic circle and let it sit for about an hour before taking it out? Hold on — what's a magic circle supposed to be? It's not some kind of microwave..."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the formula for drawing the magic circle suddenly surfaced in Young-hoon's mind.
"What the — why is it so complicated? Whatever, I'll just copy it down on paper first."
The moment he finished drawing the magic circle, the paper began to glow.
"Now place the bowl on the magic circle? Well, I've got time to spare, and I suppose I'll do as I'm told — but what on earth is the principle here? There's no cooking apparatus or anything..."
Grumbling nonstop, Young-hoon nonetheless set the bowl on the circle and waited. An hour later, the magic circle faded away from the paper, and all that remained in the bowl was a small amount of clear, colorless, odorless liquid.
The moment he removed the bowl from the circle, it began to glow again. Then, when he tore the paper apart, it simply vanished without a trace.
"The bowl was practically full of juice, and barely a fifth of it is left? And I'm supposed to mix the right amount of this liquid into wine? I need to know how much 'the right amount' is before I can pour it. Eh, I'll just wing it."
Young-hoon pulled out a cheap bottle of wine he'd bought at the mart and poured a dash of the colorless liquid into it. He was fond of drinking and didn't discriminate by type, but he hadn't had much experience with wine. Which only made it more exciting.
He poured carefully into a glass and took a tentative sip —
"Huh? Something's off? No wait, this is amazing — it goes down smooth as silk. Was wine always this good? I don't really know what wine should taste like, so maybe I should test it on another drink?"
Young-hoon retrieved a bottle of Ballantine's 21-year from the display cabinet — a souvenir from his overseas trip last summer vacation.
"So I'm cracking open this precious, pampered whiskey today, am I? What if it tastes bad?"
Half-hesitant, he poured a little of the colorless liquid into the whiskey bottle and tasted it.
"Whoa, this is killer! The whiskey tastes incredible too! Ballantine's 21 never tasted like this straight — mix in this stuff and the flavor transforms into something fantastic. It's definitely good. Hold on, though. Cognac is made from grapes too, so it should count the same as wine. Which means if I made this additive and blended it into cognac, it'd be an absolute jackpot."
Young-hoon couldn't calm his thunderstruck, racing heart.
"Ingredients are available in any quantity, and the magic circle seems reusable indefinitely... So the conclusion is, the sky's the limit? I'll have to run experiments later. It draws fine on a small sheet of paper, so why couldn't I draw it on something bigger? Then all I need to do is nail down the ingredient ratios... Heh heh heh heh."
He poured the remaining liquid into soju and took a swig. The soju, too, tasted like a fantasy. The beer was equally fantastic. Delicious, without fail. He'd discovered that this additive worked identically on every kind of alcohol.
"But soju and beer wouldn't quite work as a business. The alcohol's too cheap relative to the ingredient costs, so there's not much shine there. But if I built a business around expensive wines and premium whiskey? That'd be a gold mine. Which means I can't call it a wine additive anymore. Right — let's call it the Magic Additive."
Young-hoon dashed back to the mart and bought five more bottles of wine. Then he distributed the remaining Magic Additive evenly among them and sealed them all.
"They'll come in handy someday. Heh heh heh heh. Now, coffee is the next problem... I'll give that a shot sometime when I have the time."
Having mixed and sipped his way through one drink after another, he somehow felt even tipsier than before. And when it comes to moments like this, nothing beats sleep. Young-hoon flopped onto the bed without a second's hesitation and drifted off almost instantly.
And so the golden holiday of Saturday slipped away.
Sunday. After crafting the Magic Additive and taking his first taste the night before, Young-hoon had slept like a log for the first time in ages. But something was strange. He'd had quite a bit to drink yesterday — mixed his liquors, even — yet his stomach was perfectly settled and there wasn't a whisper of a hangover. On the contrary, he was overflowing with vitality.
There was another odd thing, too. That thing (?) simply would not die. A full hour had passed, and it was still standing stiffly at attention. He had no idea whether it was an effect of the Magic Additive or a side effect.
"Either way, it's spectacular. Standing at attention this long without dying — the results must be good. If liquor infused with the Magic Additive ever hits the market, every enhancement pill on earth goes out of business. So this is what they call a true elixir. With this alone, every woman in the world could be..."
Having wandered off into entirely unexpected territory, Young-hoon was struck by the certainty that the Magic Additive was a smash-hit product.
"Heh heh heh heh. Wait — what if this is an effect only I experience? First things first, I need to run an experiment on my brother-in-law. If he gets the exact same results... that would be a super-mega-hyper jackpot?"
Young-hoon couldn't hold back the laughter spilling out of him.
He picked up the phone and dialed his cousin Hee-joo without a moment's delay.
"Hey, it's me. Is my brother-in-law home?"
"Oh! For once he's actually home today. Why? Want me to call him?"
"No — so can I come over for lunch?"
"Since when do you ask permission to show up?"
"Right, right. Well, I'm bringing something nice for my brother-in-law, so tell him not to go anywhere."
"Got it. Just hurry up and get over here."
His cousin Hee-joo was eight years older than Young-hoon, the very picture of a stay-at-home housewife. His brother-in-law, meanwhile, was a securities analyst who appeared on television programs fairly often. Perhaps because of that, he'd built up a solid roster of VIP clients and enjoyed a rather comfortable income.
Young-hoon had almost never seen the man home on holidays — he was always busy wining and dining clients — so hearing he was home today felt like a stroke of pure luck.
Carrying the two bottles of Magic Additive wine he'd made the night before, Young-hoon headed for his cousin's apartment. The moment he rang the doorbell, his niece and nephew came bounding out.
Hee-joo had a boy and a girl — the older one would be entering middle school next year, and the younger one was in third grade, or something like that. The apartment Hee-joo's family lived in sat in one of the most prime locations in downtown Ilsan and had to be worth over a billion won. With more than fifty pyeong of space, even the kitchen alone dwarfed the studio apartment Young-hoon called home.
"Uncle!"
The kids came charging over and threw themselves at Young-hoon. Just then his cousin emerged and fired off a remark.
"You little rascals, you're going to break your uncle's back! And then you'll never get him married off!"
"You really have no filter with the kids, do you? Where's my brother-in-law?"
"Still asleep. He got in early this morning. Honestly, the way he drinks — he's in his mid-forties now, and it never crosses his mind to think about his health. Play with the kids for a bit. I'll go wake him up."
Young-hoon was playing with the kids for a few minutes when his brother-in-law shuffled into the living room, face rumpled from sleep.
"Hey, little brother. You're here?"
"Rough night again, brother-in-law?"
"You know it. Played a round with some clients, then stopped off for drinks on the way home. Oh, that reminds me — I saw that guy at the golf course yesterday. The team leader at your company? He was playing at the foursome ahead of ours. Probably out there with his bosses, I'd guess?"
"Is that so?"
Young-hoon's answer was flat and unenthusiastic. Wherever the team leader went to golf or drink was of no interest whatsoever. He couldn't have cared less about the social circles of a man he despised.
"I take it you're not close with the team leader? That reaction of yours says it all."
"Are you close with your bosses, then, brother-in-law?"
"Me? There are exactly two executives and one CEO above me. If I weren't close with them, who would I hang out with?"
His brother-in-law was clearly going places. A managing director at a major securities firm in his mid-forties — yes, that definitely counted as making it.
"Sis, is lunch still a ways off? Make it meat-heavy, please. Flower-cut sirloin if you can manage it — otherwise even a beef steak will do."
"What did you say? Beef steak and sirloin? Ha! Eat whatever you're given, freeloader. You're mooching a meal off me and you're picking the menu?"
"Come on, sis... If you treat me this carelessly, you'll regret it later. I brought something that's seriously good for my brother-in-law's health, and this is the welcome I get? Suit yourself."
"What is it? Something good for his health — what's that got to do with me?"
"What's good for him is good for you! You know exactly what I mean, why are you acting dense?"
"Hohohoho, is that right? Then I suppose I'd better run to the butcher's shop. But listen — if your little thing doesn't work, you're paying for the meat."
"Worry about it later and get the meat ready already."
Hee-joo headed out to the butcher's, and his brother-in-law, curiosity evidently getting the better of him, asked casually.
"So what is this thing you brought, exactly? Homemade liquor, is it? Snake wine, maybe?"
"Does infused liquor actually work for you, brother-in-law? And besides, at your age, aren't you terrified of my sister at night?"
"Terrified? Of course I am. Just hearing the shower running is enough to send a shiver down my spine. Anyway — what did you bring?"