The Maid Noodle Shop (2)
To cut to the chase, the whole mess got sorted out.
I really need to work on my temper. What must Chaewon be thinking right now.
I let out a long sigh and stepped out of the police station. The officer who'd been grilling me just moments ago now folded at the waist in a deep bow.
Fortune's wheel turns quickly.
That was probably what this cop was telling himself. He'd been fawning for the sake of some powerful man's influence, only to run into something far bigger than the line he'd been holding. How rattled must he have been.
I didn't particularly blame him, but it was still pretty pathetic. If I'd had nothing behind my name, I wouldn't be walking out into this pleasant air — I'd be wrapping my fingers around the cold iron of a holding cell.
"Take care, sir!"
What am I, some kind of gangster?
Still, things had worked out. That was what mattered. I'd come this close to entertaining a presidential hostage situation, for crying out loud. It had been a joke — but I had more than enough power to make it real.
"Will you be heading straight home? I'll take you there."
Yujin asked courteously, waiting on my answer. A faint handprint still lingered on her face. I stared a hole through that mark, and she seemed to catch the meaning in my gaze.
"This much is nothing."
"…Why."
That wasn't the answer I'd been looking for. The question was a genuine one.
"Why didn't you dodge?"
From the energy I could feel off her, she was a Hunter of B-rank at the very least. A slap from some punk kid would have looked slow enough to bore her while she waited for it to arrive. And yet she hadn't dodged. She'd stood there and taken it.
"It would look strange if an ordinary noodle-shop part-timer dodged that attack."
"…That's your reason?"
"To be precise, I didn't want the situation to escalate. A hit like that does nothing to me. So there was no need for you to step in, Seonghun. It was inefficient. If something similar happens again, please don't intervene."
Yujin said it with a blunt, even expression. I raked a hand through my hair.
"What's the reason?"
"Pardon?"
"The reason you're going this far."
I knew. Her real objective was a single thing: pulling me into government service. Even granting that, though, a lot of her behavior didn't add up. If she'd just been openly annoying about it, I wouldn't even be having this dilemma. Starting with the maid uniforms, she was genuinely doing things for the sake of the shop — and for someone of her standing, a little noodle place should have been beneath her.
"Doing all this won't change my mind. It's the same as the first time we talked. I have no intention of belonging to anyone."
A mountain of incidents was waiting up ahead. None of them were my problem. The Roulette Gates that would open again and again. Boss monsters no one could handle. If I joined the government, every last one of those would become my job to fix. I had no intention of living this life that way. Getting slapped in the face wasn't about to change that decision.
"Quit. Even now."
"The part-time job is the only condition you granted us, Seonghun."
"You can barely call that a condition. It doesn't help your side at all."
Yujin stopped walking and looked at me, fully and without wavering.
"……."
"I won't ask for much. You can keep turning me down forever, if you want. But please — let me leave a trail that shows I tried my hardest."
Was I imagining it, or was it a mirage her looks had conjured? In Yujin's expressionless face, I caught a glimpse of something like desperation.
If I turn her down even on this, it wouldn't be right.
She'd helped me. I wasn't the type to live in someone's debt.
"…Our shop doesn't have days off. If you ever want work-life balance, just say the word."
"Alright."
Yujin dipped her head just enough and smiled, quietly. She pressed the smart key in her right hand, and lights flashed on a vehicle parked nearby.
"Shall we go together?"
"Sure."
Before I got into her car, I said one more thing.
"I'll return the favor for today. Anything you want — except joining the government. One request. Keep it modest."
The least I could offer in exchange for her goodwill. Yujin blinked, as if she hadn't expected me to say that, then let out a small puff of a laugh.
"A wish from an S-rank Hunter. That's a pretty steep price for smoothing over a little inconvenience."
"…I mean I'll help, within the reach of what I can do."
"Then may I use it right now?"
"Now?"
Yujin nodded.
What is she about to ask for? Some Gate she's been struggling with?
While the question was still forming, she held her phone out to me.
"You said it was expensive, right? Your number. If I'm cashing this in, I want something valuable."
"Hah… that's what you want?"
It was so absurd I almost laughed. A one-time S-rank Hunter voucher was not a light thing. She had to know exactly what it was worth… and she'd spent it on a phone number.
Not bad.
She was a rather interesting woman. Interesting enough to make me wonder why I'd never met her in my previous life. I took her phone, typed in my number, and handed it back.
"If you were trying to buy my goodwill, you just succeeded."
Yujin beamed.
Beep-beep-beep-beep.
"I'm home."
I flung the front door wide open.
"Oppa, are you okay? You're not hurt anywhere?"
The instant the door opened, Chaewon came running at me like a puppy, then stared up at my face with a look of raw worry.
"I told you, I'm not hurt. Were you that worried?"
However she'd found out, she'd been calling me nonstop. I remembered telling her I'd explain everything once I got home, trying to calm her down.
She must have been terrified.
She'd gone to the shop and found it half-destroyed, and her only blood relative had vanished without a trace. Of course she had been.
"Who's worried! I just thought my powerless oppa got mixed up in a fight, that's all."
I looked at Chaewon's face — her eyes were welling up. She could say whatever she wanted, but the pile of tissues on the table told me she'd been crying for a while.
She's so bad at being honest.
Around other people Chaewon was timid, but in front of me she refused to show any weakness. She probably just didn't want to see me worry. Knowing that, I didn't have the heart to call her on it.
"Have you eaten?"
Chaewon sniffled, wiping the corners of her eyes.
"I haven't. How could I eat by myself after what happened to you, oppa."
I'd figured as much. However much she loved food, was she really going to get a meal down while I was sitting in a police station? A good little sister wouldn't—
"Hey. You've got something on your mouth."
I stared at her, dumbfounded. Something that looked an awful lot like a grain of rice was stuck to her lip. Chaewon glanced at the mirror in a panic and flicked it off.
"No, I just had one spoonful. You were taking forever to get home."
The seasoning was red. She must have made bibimbap.
Unbelievable.
I narrowed my eyes at her, and she stammered, scrambling to change the subject.
"Oppa, did you know our noodle shop is up on YouTube?"
"YouTube?"
I rewound the afternoon in my head. The YouTuber who'd shown up carrying a tripod in one hand. I'd cheerfully given permission to film, hoping it would put the shop on the map — and then, of all times, the trouble had broken out. The fight had definitely been caught on camera.
I looked at Chaewon, worried.
"How bad is it?"
"I can't watch it. How am I supposed to watch you getting hit, oppa."
Chaewon shook her head.
She thinks I was the one who got hit.
I took her phone. The recorded video laid everything out in the open, from the students putting their hands on Yujin all the way through to me firing off a spinning back kick.
So it went up after all.
I watched it back with a hollow look on my face. A restaurant doesn't last long once controversy hits. If even a whisper of a bad rumor started circulating…
That would be the end of it.
This was a world where even a tiny mistake got you stoned. If word got out that I'd hit a customer — a minor, no less — keeping the business open would be nearly impossible. I started turning over alternatives as I tapped the video.
"…Huh?"
I doubted my own eyes. This… wasn't actually that bad?
"This might actually…"
My wavering pupils locked onto the video. The news coverage had clearly come out in my favor. The comments weren't ugly, either. Which meant…?
"Are we… going viral?"
Early the next morning, I stood in the noodle shop with the part-timers, trembling.
"What is that…? That's terrifying!"
Saerom stared outside with wild, bewildered eyes. A sea of people. No phrase in the language fit better. A line of bodies stretched out, roaring and jostling.
"We're here to spend you rich, boss! Open the door!"
I hadn't even shaken like this when I took down the greatest monster on earth.
No question. It's because of that video yesterday.
The ripple from the news and social media had gone beyond anything I'd imagined. The line was so long I couldn't see the end of it. But even if you walk into a tiger's den, you survive if you keep your head — I slapped both cheeks hard and pulled myself together.
"Everyone… listen closely."
"Yes."
"This is war. War. And if we win this war, every day after will be clear skies."
If an opportunity comes, you grab it.
That was my creed. A person only gets so many chances in a lifetime. Whether you catch them or let them slip — that's what divides everything.
"We're going all in. If we get through this one, I promise I'll make it worth your while."
At the words worth your while, Saerom's eyes spun.
"Let's do this."
I opened the shop door. Customers poured in. I boiled noodles without a second of rest, and Yujin and Saerom threw themselves into it with just as much heat as the water in the pots.
…They must have taken three hundred photos at the very least. The concept was unfamiliar enough that plenty of people were staring in fascination. And then—
"You got this, boss!"
No small number of them were cheering us on. Everyone tossed a word my way as they paid. The way a frog can drop dead from a pebble that was nothing special, that offhand word of encouragement felt like it was melting a grown man's heart.
"Go, Pacquiao of Doksan-dong!"
Except… the comments were starting to drift further and further off target.
"I'm a fan!"
"When's the UFC debut…"
"I heard you did five years in the slammer…"
"Hyungnim! I'll be waiting for the day you return to the organization!"
Oh, no, you lunatics.
And yet the corners of my mouth had already ascended to heaven. I knew their jokes were coming from a place of goodwill — just people having fun.
At any rate, the customers kept pouring in without end, and before I knew it the moment arrived when we ran out of ingredients. It was one in the afternoon.
"I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. I had no idea this many people would come today, and I didn't prepare enough ingredients."
"Oh, it's fine. I only waited four hours."
"…I'm sorry."
"Haha. I'm kidding, kidding. I'll just come back next time. You'll have some for me then, right?"
I bowed my head deeply to the sound of disappointed customers.
"Of course. Next time I'll be properly prepared."
"It was like watching a terrorist takedown op…"
"Sorry?"
"No — I mean you looked cool, boss."
The customer left with a smile. I watched their retreating backs with an apologetic look and couldn't quite look away.
One in the afternoon. A personal best.
I had a feeling this record wouldn't be broken anytime soon. The MVPs of today's operation — those part-timers I wouldn't trade for the world — were clearing the tables. I clapped once to gather their attention.
"You both worked hard today."
"O-oh, no. If anything, finishing earlier than usual is nice."
Office-worker instincts, I supposed — they wanted to clock out as soon as they could.
"And the maid uniforms."
They'd been bothering me anyway. This needed to be addressed. Maids. In a noodle shop. It was a horrifying hybrid, and it was a problem I had to put on the table.
"Ah, the maid uniforms are a bit much, right?"
Saerom lit up like she'd just been handed a winning ticket. As someone who still fell within the bounds of a normal human being, putting on a maid outfit in broad daylight couldn't have been easy. I understood a hundred percent. I knew this couldn't go on as it was.
"Aren't they a bit too long, though?"
"…?"
"While we're at it, maybe a little more chest, and shorten the skirts a bit…"
I was already a slave to capitalism.
"Haha. I'm kidding. Just kidding."
As if I'd actually make a demand like that. I'm not garbage. I may have been blinded by money, but I don't exploit my precious part-timers. I reassured Saerom it was a joke, then looked at Yujin.
Yujin quietly nodded.
She really was an outstanding part-timer.