Designated Survivor (1)
Someone envying and being jealous of me? I could understand that. Someone swearing at me or trying to throw a punch? I could understand that too. After all, I could always just inject them with an antidote later. But dumping their work on me? That was crossing the line. Especially since I wasn't even part of the Murim Alliance.
For all I knew, they might have faked their illness to get admitted to the Medical Hall, leaving me with all the work just to screw me over.
Leaving the three giants of the Orthodox factions behind for a moment, I headed toward the kitchen. I needed to find out what on earth had happened. But the moment I stepped inside, I ran straight into a very familiar face.
"Huh? Master Zhuge Bi?"
Wasn't the Central Plains supposed to be vast? This was starting to feel like a high school reunion. It seemed like every single person I'd crossed paths with once or twice was showing up here at the Murim Alliance.
"It has been a few months, Chef Yoon. Have you been well?"
Zhuge Bi, the investigator who had previously come to look into the Hyeondong Merchant Guild, stood in the center of the kitchen with the exact same face as before, scribbling something down in a blank ledger.
"Yes, I've been doing well enough. But what brings you here, Master Zhuge?"
"With the banquet right around the corner, three chefs collapsed simultaneously. Naturally, our investigation team had to look into it first."
"Three chefs collapsed at the same time? What in the world happened?"
"The physicians say it is food poisoning."
"Food poisoning?"
Professional chefs getting food poisoning? I felt a sudden urge to smack them. But as my irritation flared, a seed of doubt planted itself in my mind. Something didn't add up. No matter how much of an idiot Dong Gyeongdo was, the probability of the other two senior chefs being equally incompetent was close to zero. It made absolutely no sense for Dong Gyeongdo and two veteran chefs to eat spoiled food without noticing anything off.
"Fortunately, their symptoms are relatively mild, and being rushed to the Medical Hall so quickly worked in their favor. The physicians said they should be back on their feet after half a day of rest."
"Well, that's a relief, but I highly doubt this is simple food poisoning... What exactly did they eat?"
"I was told they ate seohongsichogyedan as a snack before starting their work."
Ah. When I was rummaging through the pantry earlier, I had noticed some tomatoes. I recalled telling one of the Alliance's chefs that tomatoes weren't just for medicinal use, but actually tasted incredible when cooked. I had casually suggested they try making seohongsichogyedan—stir-fried tomatoes and eggs—sometime. It looked like they had greedily whipped it up just for themselves.
"Aigoo, so the three of them kept the delicious treat to themselves? No one else had any?"
"That is what I was told."
While tomatoes did grow in the Central Plains, they were mostly used for medicinal purposes. What did that mean? Since they weren't commonly used in everyday cooking, they weren't cultivated in large quantities. And because supply was low, they were naturally expensive. No wonder they had kept it to themselves.
Zhuge Bi, still focused on writing in his ledger, asked, "It is fortunate to have someone who knows ingredients so well here. Tell me, could the tomatoes be the problem?"
"Unlikely. Unless the tomatoes were completely rotten and mushy, there's no reason they would cause food poisoning. And even then, the Cafeteria Master would have noticed beforehand."
If so, the culprit had to be the eggs. But if the eggs were spoiled, they would have realized it instantly.
"What about the possibility of the eggs spoiling in this hot weather?"
"I doubt that too. Eggs delivered to the Murim Alliance would have come from nearby farms. Eggs don't just spoil from being left out for a day or two."
Besides, rotten eggs smelled absolutely horrendous. There was no way they wouldn't have noticed.
After asking about a few other ingredients that could potentially cause food poisoning, Zhuge Bi wore a satisfied expression.
"In any case, it is a blessing in disguise. If Chef Yoon weren't here, there would be no one to take command of this kitchen, which would have been a disaster."
"Excuse me? Why would I take command?"
"Is that not why you came?"
"The remaining chefs should handle it themselves. It's not right for an outside chef who isn't even affiliated with the Murim Alliance to just barge in and take over."
I am an independent contractor. I only came here to cook my own dishes. Why should I do their work? Especially in the workplace of people who looked down on me.
My curiosity was satisfied, and the ingredients for my own banquet dishes were mostly prepped. Since the Cafeteria Master and the two senior chefs were expected back within half a day, I was about to head back to my spot.
But the frantic chatter of the other chefs caught my attention.
"What do we do without Master Dong here?"
"Can't we just do what we were assigned?"
"But Master Dong and the senior chefs are the ones who handle the detailed task assignments!"
With the three most senior chefs gone, the oldest-looking chef left in the kitchen was being bombarded with questions.
"Who's going to check the quality of the food? What about the timing?"
"I heard the Sect Leader of the Emei Sect only eats vegetarian dishes, and Chef Sang was the one in charge of the vegetables! But he's in the Medical Hall right now!"
"Only Master Dong knows the recipe for the special sauce, and not a single drop of it has been prepared for today!"
"Ah, forget it! Just wing it!"
Overwhelmed by the sudden barrage of questions, the older chef's face contorted before he threw his hands up in defeat, looking ready to lie down on the floor right then and there.
Normally, if the Cafeteria Master was absent, the next senior chef would take over, and if he was gone, the one after him. But all three of them had been carried away together after eating stir-fried tomatoes and eggs. None of the remaining chefs showed any will to resolve the crisis.
Realizing there was no one left to lead, Zhuge Bi stared at me intently.
"Are you really not going to help them?"
"...They'll figure it out."
Why did he keep pestering an outsider like me? But the moment the words left my mouth—
"We're doomed!"
"What do we do, Chef?!"
"How should I know?! You've all worked in taverns and inns before!"
"Cooking in bulk for a dining hall is completely different from an inn where you can prep dishes in advance!"
No, Gomyung. Please, don't get involved. Why are you trying to create more work for yourself? Just as I was about to develop a savior complex, a young chef raised his hand and shouted.
"Everyone, look over here for a second!"
As all eyes turned to him, the young chef spoke up courageously.
"We can't just stand by and watch!"
Oh, yes. Exactly. This is the kind of talent we need.
With everyone's attention locked onto him, the young chef continued in a booming voice.
"Why don't we just serve porridge instead? We can mix all of today's ingredients together and—"
Wait, did this guy just say something that insane with a straight face?
"You crazy bastard!"
Smack!
Unable to watch any longer, I stepped forward and slapped the back of the young chef's head.
"Are you seriously thinking of making pig slop?!"
"But it's the most efficient—!"
"That's food waste, not food for human beings!"
I really didn't want to show off my skills in a place like this, but as long as lunatics like him existed, I had no choice but to step in. I immediately grabbed an apron hanging in the kitchen, tied it around my waist, and made an announcement.
"Everyone, back to your stations! From this moment on, I am taking charge of the Murim Alliance kitchen!"
"By whose authority?!"
"If you've got a problem with it, go get yourself a title from the Dragon Head of the Beggars' Sect first."
"...!"
I really, really hated using raw authority to suppress people. But what choice did I have? I was already annoyed enough about having to work; I didn't have time to deal with petty troublemakers.
Still, looking at the disgruntled faces of the other chefs, I glared at them and asked, "Raise your hand if you have managed more bulk cooking and meal counts than me, Yoon Gomyung."
"..."
A few hands actually went up. Wait, why were you guys staying quiet until now if you're so confident?
So, I added another condition.
"Of those with your hands up, raise your hand if you have more experience leading and instructing chefs in a kitchen than me."
"..."
Only about two or three hands remained raised. Wow, they were really holding out, weren't they? Time to drop the killer question.
"Raise your hand if you can beat me in a duel."
Immediately, all hands dropped. Not a single person dared to keep theirs up. Know your place, you punks.
"Now that we understand each other, get back to your stations. And Chef Ung Jin."
"Y-Yes, Three-Virtue Chef!"
"What is on the menu for lunch today?"
Ung Jin answered promptly.
"We have sujab-yuk (boiled pork slices), hongso-rok-yuk (braised venison), stir-fried water spinach with garlic, pickled radish, and gyehwa-nami-u (sweet osmanthus sticky rice lotus root) for dessert."
Hearing his reply, I looked at the other chefs who were still standing around blankly.
"What are you standing around for? Get moving and start prepping!"
At my shout, the chefs silently scurried back to their stations and began preparing the food. Honestly, these people worked in this kitchen every single day, yet they fell into utter chaos just because a few higher-ups were missing. It was absolutely ridiculous.
"Hahaha! I knew Chef Yoon would bring them to heel in an instant."
"Are you happy now?"
"I am very pleased to see things turn out exactly as I hoped."
With those words, Zhuge Bi smirked and left the kitchen. You're a bad man, Zhuge Murray.
In any case, I began helping with the cooking. Fortunately, dishes like sujab-yuk and hongso-rok-yuk were relatively simple. They were also dishes I knew how to make. The gyehwa-nami-u was a dessert and had already been prepared, and the pickled radish was a long-term preserved food that had been pickled in advance, so those were fine.
Besides, what Zhuge Bi and the other chefs wanted wasn't for me to do all the cooking myself. At most, they needed me to delegate tasks and fix any mistakes made during the process. So, I decided to give them exactly that.
I walked over to a chef who was roughly chopping meat to make the hongso-rok-yuk. He had a rather annoyed look on his face, but putting his attitude aside, the chunks of meat were way too big. You'd have to dislocate your jaw just to fit one of those in your mouth.
"The meat is so big you could build the Great Wall of China with it."
"I-I'll cut them in half."
"Cut them into quarters."
Next, I approached the chef who was stir-frying the water spinach with minced garlic. He drizzled a bit of the special sauce, tossed it a couple of times, and was about to plate it.
"Hold on. Are you sure that water spinach is actually cooked? It's so stiff that if I washed it and planted it in the ground, it would probably start growing again."
"Uh... I'll stir-fry it more."
There was no shortage of things to criticize.
"Is your family smuggling salt or something?"
"Huh? What do you mean...?"
"Why are you being so stingy with the salt? Season it properly."
"Ah... Yes, I'll add more."
It was the same story with the chef preparing the sujab-yuk. Seriously, why was everyone so afraid of using seasonings?
"Did someone establish a 'Society for Low-Sodium Eating' in the Central Plains while I wasn't looking? Add some soy sauce and make the flavor bolder."
"B-But the Cafeteria Master strictly ordered us to keep the food bland..."
"Even the monks at Shaolin and Emei wouldn't eat food this bland. I said season it properly!"
Chefs who claimed to have trained in the imperial kitchens or the estates of high-ranking officials always seemed to under-season their food. I didn't know the exact reason, but it seemed like a trend had spread where using as little soy sauce and salt as possible was considered a sign of refinement.
But the Murim Alliance wasn't the imperial palace; it was a place packed with martial artists who exerted physical energy all day. Especially in this hot weather, they sweated a lot. The food needed to be seasoned on the saltier side so they could replenish their sodium levels and find the energy to train.
I tasted the nearly finished sujab-yuk and hongso-rok-yuk. They just needed a little more cooking. Yes, this was what proper seasoning tasted like.
"Taste it yourself and tell me. Is this better, or is the bland stuff your Cafeteria Master makes better?"
"This... is much better..."
"That's how people are. If a dish is a bit salty, they can just eat it with rice and find it perfectly fine. But if it's bland, they'll just think the food is terrible from the very first bite."
"Ah..."
A young chef around my age nodded in realization. Of course, that didn't mean they should dump so much salt and soy sauce that their tongues felt like a salt flat.
It was almost time for lunch. I clapped my hands to get everyone's attention.
"Servants, get ready to plate and serve! The rest of the chefs, report to me immediately if you run low on anything!"
"Yes, sir!"
From here on out, it was just a matter of serving the food to the people coming in. There was no need for me to micromanage. If you do your job, I leave you alone. It was a lesson I had learned in the glorious South Korean military. Though, contrary to what the officers always claimed, all I actually remembered was being micromanaged to death.
Stepping outside the kitchen to catch my breath, I observed the dining hall. A group of Murim Alliance martial artists had just arrived and were receiving their food.
"Did you bring it?"
"Yeah. I even bought a container from the market."
"You crazy bastard. You bought a whole container for it?"
"What else was I supposed to do? The food here is so bland it drives me insane."
I listened to the martial artists whispering among themselves. Curious about what kind of container they were talking about, I watched closely. Inside a hollowed-out bamboo tube was a white powder with a slight yellowish tint.
That's salt.
It seemed the food here had been so bland that the martial artists actually carried their own salt around. But today was different.
"Huh?"
The martial artist who had taken a bite of the hongso-rok-yuk with a look of resignation suddenly froze, his expression completely changing.
"Hey, we don't need the salt. It's actually savory!"
"Stop lying."
"I'm serious, you idiot!"
At his words, the other martial artists eagerly took a bite and gasped in admiration.
"Did they get a new chef?"
"I heard from a physician at the Medical Hall earlier that the Cafeteria Master was carried away."
"So that chubby old guy really was the problem?"
"He was always bragging about being from the imperial kitchens. But a friend of mine who works for the Zhuge Clan told me that imperial food is notoriously tasteless anyway."
The exact reactions I wanted were popping up one after another. Yes, this was why people cooked. Well, technically I hadn't cooked and had only criticized, but still.
As the next wave of martial artists arrived and showed the exact same reaction, a wide grin spread across my face. I was leaning against the wall, thoroughly enjoying their reactions, when a loud shout erupted from the kitchen.
"What do you mean by that?!"
Ah, what now? Just when I was finally in a good mood, the sound of someone causing a scene inside made my face twist in annoyance.
Stepping back inside, I saw a pale-faced Dong Gyeongdo grabbing Ung Jin by the collar and yelling.
"What do you mean you already found a replacement chef?!"
"Well, you see..."
Ung Jin, sweating profusely, spotted me standing by the kitchen entrance and pointed in my direction.
"T-The Three-Virtue Chef stepped in and managed the entire situation!"
At that shout, Dong Gyeongdo stumbled toward me on unsteady legs and immediately roared at the top of his lungs.
"You! You must have done something to those eggs! You did this to steal my position!"
The passive-aggressive Dong Gyeongdo who had tried to subtly screw me over was gone. In his place was a gaunt, desperate man pointing a trembling finger at me.
Sigh, you pathetic excuse of a human. Why do you choose to live like this?