Making Magic Seasoning

Sunday.

Perhaps because he'd pushed himself a bit hard over the past two days, Young-hoon slept in for once.

Most office workers, determined to hit the ground running again on Monday, want nothing more than to spend Sunday resting completely undisturbed. Young-hoon was no different — today, he didn't want to do a single thing. Everything felt like a chore.

And yet, ironically, his body was brimming with energy. It had to be the effect of the Magic Additive Wine he'd drunk at Hee-joo's place yesterday. Left with no choice, he dragged himself out of bed and threw together a quick brunch from the frozen food he'd bought at the convenience store, then lay back down hoping to squeeze in a little more sleep — but sleep simply wouldn't come.

Giving up on rest entirely, he decided to finally tackle a project that had been sitting in the back of his mind for a long while. Today, Young-hoon was going to make the Magic Seasoning — an additive for food.

"Now, what were the ingredients Archmage Hains used for his magic seasoning?"

Young-hoon took his notebook out of the desk drawer and, dredging through the memories passed down to him by the Archmage, copied the recipe onto a memo.

"So I just mix these powders well, set them on a magic circle for thirty minutes, and the Magic Seasoning is done? That's a little easier than making the Magic Additive. Well then, shall we give it a try?"

When Young-hoon got an idea, he acted on it immediately. He stopped by the supermarket and the traditional market to gather the ingredients, dumped them all into a large bowl, and mixed them this way and that. Then he drew a magic circle on a fresh sheet of paper.

The moment he set the bowl of blended seasoning on top, a bright light spilled out from the circle. After about thirty minutes, the circle dimmed and vanished along with the glow. In that instant, Young-hoon instinctively knew the Magic Seasoning was complete.

And as soon as he lifted the bowl away, the magic circle reappeared on the paper. Like the circle for the Magic Additive, this one could apparently be reused as well.

Unlike the Magic Additive, however, the amount of seasoning in the bowl hadn't shrunk at all — it was exactly the same as when he'd first mixed it. Young-hoon sprinkled a bit of the finished Magic Seasoning over the leftover frozen food from brunch and took a taste.

The flavor had definitely improved, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was subtly missing.

"That's strange. Why doesn't it taste amazing? Did I miss an ingredient? Feels like a failed batch somehow... Well, I've got plenty of time — I'll just make it again next time. It does taste better, after all. Just not the perfect flavor I was hoping for."

Thinking positively, Young-hoon spent the evening after dinner transcribing the drama script onto his laptop. He'd set a goal of getting through episode ten, but by eleven o'clock he'd barely made a dent. Deciding he needed to sleep early for the busy week ahead, he climbed into bed — and promptly drifted off without even realizing it.

And so another golden Sunday slipped away.

Monday, November 6th.

Once again, Young-hoon was the first one in the office. As usual, he pulled out his work notebook and organized his upcoming schedule.

The meeting with the Managing Director, along with the meeting with Ha-yeon's father, had been newly added to the list.

With his notebook updated, Young-hoon brewed a fresh cup of pour-over coffee and savored the flavor.

Hold on. Wait a second. Coffee is food too, isn't it? Then why not experiment with the Magic Seasoning on it? The seasoning's already made and sitting at home — I'll just grab a cup of beans on the way out tonight.

A way to make coffee taste better had come to him, and Young-hoon felt thoroughly pleased with himself.

While he was off daydreaming about this and that, an email arrived. The sender was Lee Jae-man, the CEO. It contained yesterday's business report, plans for the week, and a rundown of revenue and expenses.

After reading the email, Young-hoon sent his reply right away.

By the time Young-hoon finished his reply, everyone in Marketing Team 3 had arrived except for two people. That Hong Dae-ri would be late, of course, went without saying — and Kim Jin-man, the newest staff member, was off at the Pyeongtaek training institute for his promotion course.

Park Dae-ri struck up a conversation, as he always did.

"Lucky bastard, that Jin-man. No office stress for a whole week. And the training institute's practically next door to his place in Pyeongtaek — he must have slept in until noon. Aigoo, I wish they'd send me to training too."

"You and me both? We're completely out of luck this year. They want to schedule ours for December — how am I supposed to go to training during transfer season? That's basically them telling us not to go at all."

While Young-hoon and Park Dae-ri traded nonsense back and forth, Hong Dae-ri strolled in — wearing a face scrunched up in evident displeasure at something or other.

A KakaoTalk message arrived from Park Dae-ri, who had retreated to his own desk.

Just then, Staff Member Lee Ji-young relayed word to Deputy General Manager Cho that the Managing Director wanted to see him. Clutching his business notebook, Cho hurried up to the executive's office — and the moment he left, the regular Monday meeting was abruptly canceled.

Like every office worker alive, Young-hoon hated meetings, so he silently gave thanks.

Watching Deputy General Manager Cho scurry up to the executive's office, Hong Dae-ri spat out a remark.

"Tch, damn it! If I'd known there was no meeting, I'd have come in even later. What a waste, showing up early."

This punk must think the company is his personal playground. Showing up whenever it suits him, skipping whenever it doesn't. That Hong Dae-ri really does live in a world all his own.

Deputy General Manager Cho sat facing Managing Director Kim, a teacup set before him. And the Managing Director's voice was as soft and warm as a spring breeze.

"Did you enjoy your holiday, Cho?"

"Yes, sir, Managing Director!"

"You see, I've collected the performance figures for every team nationwide through October, and your Marketing Team 3 came in first by a landslide. Of course, the qualitative evaluations aren't in yet, but even accounting for those, the gap couldn't be more than a point or two, could it? Keep this up and that department-head promotion is practically yours. And I'll be pumping hard for you from my side, so don't you worry. Anyway — congratulations in advance."

"Thank you for looking out for me, sir. I pledge my loyalty to you forever!"

"Right, that's the spirit. Now then — I played a round of golf with Vice President Nam of the holding company this past Saturday, and he tells me there's a rumor going around that President Hong Sang-gyu of LK Chemical is being promoted to Vice Chairman. Why don't you look into it, Cho? The son of President Hong must know something, mustn't he?"

"Understood, sir. I'll look into it thoroughly and report back."

"Ahem. And one more thing... you know President Jung of Gyeongin Distribution, don't you? He's asking for five hundred of our newest TVs. Have a supply approval request on my desk by this morning. Same terms as last time. You know what I mean, don't you?"

In that instant, Cho understood instinctively: Managing Director Kim had summoned him to order another fake delivery — this time of TVs. Everything else in the conversation had been mere seasoning.

It was true that the mood in the electronics market was rotten right now, thanks to the smartphone dumping scheme he himself had spearheaded. What he couldn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fathom was what could possibly be so urgent that it required fake-delivering televisions. Given President Jung's temperament, the man was hardly the type to sit on inventory. Those phones they'd fake-delivered in late October had almost certainly — call it ten thousand percent — already been dumped into the electronics market. The sensible move was to lie low beneath the surface until things calmed down, and yet Managing Director Kim was taking a reckless gamble.

There had to be some connection between Kim and President Jung. The Managing Director was dangling a department-head promotion in front of him, but if this went sideways, Cho knew without a doubt that he'd be the one thrown to the wolves. Even so, it seemed he had no choice but to thrash a little before drowning. Carefully, he broached the subject.

"Sir, with the quarterly performance evaluations already finished, is it really necessary to take such a risk?"

Managing Director Kim suddenly flew into a rage.

"Are you daft, man? Do dealerships not run a business? They're telling me they have nothing to sell — am I supposed to just tell them to sit there sucking their thumbs?"

"Still, it's risky. Because of the phones we dumped last time, the market sentiment hasn't recovered. Couldn't we wait a while longer before moving?"

"Why can't you understand simple words? Must I spell everything out for you one by one? There's a Winter Olympics next year — President Jung wants to stockpile TVs in preparation for it, that's all! Or what, are you scared President Jung might dump them into the electronics market or something?"

Cho realized there was nothing he could do. On reflection, following Managing Director Kim's orders would, ironically, cost him less than defying them. Having steeled himself, he opened his mouth with visible reluctance.

"Understood, sir. I'll submit the supply approval for signing before the morning is out."

But Managing Director Kim's anger showed no sign of cooling. A cold wind blew through his voice as he addressed his subordinate.

"Fine! Now get out!"

Cho bowed to Managing Director Kim and left the executive's office.