Chapter 27
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 27
Yoo Seong-un led him to a restaurant where every employee was dressed in a hanbok.
"I have a reservation for two under Yoo Seong-un."
"Ah, Mr. Yoo Seong-un. Your reservation is confirmed. I’ll show you inside, but please take off your shoes first."
Standing a step back, Gio observed the restaurant as Yoo Seong-un naturally followed the server’s guidance.
The restaurant itself was a hanok with a deeply antique atmosphere, looking as though it had been painted with ink. The pillars retained the natural, elegant curves of raw wood, while the subtle, bittersweet scent of cypress and the high, vaulted ceiling put him at ease.
What met his eyes was not a bustling crowd but a quiet, elegantly arranged wooden hallway. Private rooms lined the corridor, feeling exceptionally secluded and exclusive.
"..."
This... is a baekban-jip?
'In the thirty-one years I was gone, the definition of a baekban-jip must have changed.'
Where was the noisy, cozy baekban-jip he remembered—the kind where you sat cross-legged on a wooden platform and tore into grilled yellow croaker?
"Gio, let’s go in."
"We’re eating here?"
"Ah." Yoo Seong-un spoke defensively, as if worried about something. "Just try to ignore the presence of other people. This place blocks out sounds and presences pretty well, though."
"..."
"If it’s too uncomfortable, we can go to another restaurant. There’s a place where we can have an entire building to ourselves."
What was with this guy?
'Is he treating me like a walking nuclear power plant or something?'
Gio had no idea just how sensitive Seong-un thought he was.
"I’m not uncomfortable."
"Really? That’s a relief."
"Is it divided into private rooms?"
"Yeah. The rooms aren’t small, so you’ll be able to eat comfortably."
"I see."
Unless it was an extreme situation, Gio wasn’t one to turn down a free meal.
'Anyway, the food looks like it’ll be good, so whatever.'
A complex mix of emotions churned within him at the realization of how much the world had changed in thirty-one years. But with his empty stomach’s permission, Gio cast aside his worries and followed Yoo Seong-un.
"Please ring the bell once you have made your selection."
"Will do."
"Have a wonderful meal."
The server, dressed in a hanbok of soft, petal-dyed hues, quietly exited the room. Waiting a moment for the footsteps to fade, Gio asked, "Is this place really a baekban-jip?"
"...Ah, yes."
It wasn’t obvious, but Yoo Seong-un looked as though he had just realized his mistake.
Gio had simply meant, 'Is a place this fancy really a baekban-jip?' But Seong-un seemed to have interpreted it as, 'So, what exactly is a baekban-jip?'
"A meal consisting of white rice served with soup and side dishes is called baekban."
"..."
For the sake of his pride as a teacher, Gio was tempted to correct him. But since it didn’t seem like a misunderstanding that could be easily cleared up, he decided to just keep his mouth shut and listen. He was rather proud of this mature decision.
"The white rice is always the same, but the soup changes daily. Today... it looks like it’s seaweed soup."
Having said that, Yoo Seong-un asked with a cautious look, "Do you eat seaweed?"
"There’s nothing I can’t eat or dislike."
"That’s good to hear."
Yoo Seong-un opened the menu resting at the edge of the table.
"The basic side dishes are all the same, so we just need to choose the main dish. It’s mostly divided into meat and fish. Which are you leaning toward?"
"I’m leaning more toward meat right now."
The soft-hearted Gio had been unable to bring himself to hunt the animals in the forest. For starters, he didn’t even know how, and besides, hunting those round, cute painted creatures would surely yield very little meat.
Gio, who was happy eating anything, wasn’t a picky eater. But since he was out, he wanted to eat some proper meat.
'Might as well eat it while I’m out.'
Yoo Seong-un nodded. "Then let’s go with the Gwangyang Bulgogi."
He pressed a few buttons on a digital keypad at the edge of the table. It seemed to be a system where they entered numbers corresponding to menu items, which were then sent directly to the kitchen.
After finally pressing the red call button, Yoo Seong-un looked back at Gio.
"Out of all the baekban-jip I’ve been to, I think this place is the best. They don’t use monster meat, either."
"Do they usually use monster meat?"
"It’s commonly eaten, yeah. But it feels a bit cheap to eat monster meat when you’re dining out at a restaurant."
"..."
For some reason, Seong-un seemed to hold "restaurants" in much higher regard than Gio did. As an ancestor who had been hibernating for thirty-one years, Gio pondered how to ask about this without sounding strange.
"What is it? Do you have a question?"
"...Are restaurants considered premium compared to other establishments?"
"Hmm? Isn’t that usually the case?" Yoo Seong-un rubbed the back of his neck, as if caught off guard by the question. "I mean, you’re choosing not to eat at home and paying for someone else’s labor to serve you. For me, it’s not much of a burden, but for 2nd-Grade Citizens and below, it can be a bit tough."
"Is it like that for all restaurants?"
"Generally, yes. While restaurants are for eating, the biggest draw is being served. There are plenty of people who visit restaurants just to eat, like me, but even more come solely to be pampered."
This felt quite different from Gio’s definition of a restaurant.
'Compared to what I used to know, this sounds more like fine dining or omakase. Has every single restaurant become high-end...?'
Wait, then what about delivery?
"Do people not use delivery?"
Yoo Seong-un looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected the word "delivery" to come out of Gio’s mouth. Gio began to suspect just how ancient Seong-un thought he was, but finding it too tedious to explain, he kept his mouth shut.
"Delivery is... also a common method. Though it’s even more expensive."
"Is that so?"
"If a delivery driver runs into a monster on the way, it’s a major disaster. Avoiding them is a hassle, too."
Since when were monsters treated like stray cats? The scale of the damage was clearly nothing like a stray cat’s, which made the casual mention all the more absurd.
"So unless people are throwing a party, they don’t really order delivery. Same goes for me."
"..."
Gio suspected that if a delivery was large enough for a party, it was probably just catering.
"...Then do most people cook and eat their meals at home?"
"Usually, yeah. Buying groceries already costs a fortune, so who has the money to pay for service on top of that? Going to a restaurant isn’t really a common thing."
Did the world end and get rebuilt or something?
"But we are at a restaurant right now."
"Well, that’s because I said I’d show you around..."
"Ah."
He must have meant he wanted to treat Gio to something spectacular. Gio fell into deep thought over how even simple communication was prone to such errors.
'...Do I need to take social integration classes? It’d be hard to get compulsory education at my age. Should I re-enroll in university right now?'
The world had changed too much in just thirty-one years. At this rate, every time Gio spoke to someone, he would be treated like an alien from Sirius.
'Or a shut-in completely cut off from society.'
Good heavens, the fact that the latter wasn’t entirely wrong made it even more chilling.
'Is this how the elderly feel when they can’t keep up with a changing society...?'
Grandmother, I finally understand how you felt. Keeping up with a rapidly advancing era is truly a difficult task.
Feeling a deep sense of empathy, Gio watched the server set the table.
"It’s hot, so please step back a bit."
Saying so, the server dropped a single spark onto the center of the table.
Instantly, a flame flared up, shaping itself into something resembling a gas burner. The server placed a grill over the circular fire, laid down a few pieces of bulgogi, and left the room.
"..."
A fire had lit up out of nowhere.
'And it’s a wooden table, but it’s not burning.'
He corrected himself. Gio didn’t need to re-enroll in university; he needed to go back to kindergarten.
Judging by Yoo Seong-un’s reaction, this was completely normal, but to Gio, who was exactly thirty-one years out of touch with society, it was nothing short of miraculous.
"Hmm, looks like beef."
"...If it’s not beef, what other meat would it be?"
"Like I said earlier, there’s a high chance it would be monster meat. It’s cheaper than beef or mutton."
"Does it taste bad?"
"It’s not that..." Sizzle— Stirring the meat, Yoo Seong-un continued, "It’s just the general societal sentiment. Even though there are plenty of monster meats that are perfectly fine to eat as long as you avoid the toxic parts, monsters are still creatures that attack humans... and most of them look grotesque. It’s only natural that meat from man-eating monsters isn’t exactly welcomed with open arms."
"Put that way, it makes sense."
"But generally speaking, it’s a staple in households. A cheap, abundant source of protein is bound to be popular. I just meant that it feels a bit off to eat monster meat at a restaurant like this, where you come to be treated."
"Isn’t it dangerous?"
"Well, not all monsters carry poison in their bodies," Yoo Seong-un chuckled. "I heard that about twenty years ago, the sentiment was very much 'how could anyone eat something so dangerous?' But I was too young back then, so I don’t really know."
"Twenty years ago isn’t that far in the past, yet people’s perceptions seem to have changed rapidly."
"That’s because the government and the Association worked hard in various ways..."
A government competent enough to change Koreans' perception of the meat they put in their mouths in just twenty years?
'Why has so much changed in thirty-one years?'
To Gio, this was even more shocking than his own evolution from a fire into a portrait. Yoo Seong-un might disagree, but that was how Gio felt.
"The government must be quite competent."
"Well, they have to be competent if they don’t want their heads chopped off."
"..."
"A few heads have already rolled, so only the competent ones are left."
Gio felt a chill. Why is this guy telling me stories like this right before we eat?
'...Then again, Hunters are said to be living weapons of war, so I suppose politicians wouldn’t be untouchable.'
Gio quickly accepted this reality and helped stir the meat.
"Can we eat now?"
"Yeah, looks fully cooked."
"Thank you for the meal."
"I hope it suits your taste."
"I think it will."
Korean bulgogi is typically divided into three styles: Seoul-style, Gwangyang-style, and Eonyang-style. Out of these, Gio’s absolute favorite was Gwangyang-style bulgogi.
The commonly known bulgogi, marinated and cooked in a broth, is the Seoul-style. Gwangyang-style, by contrast, is grilled dry on a grate. While it varies slightly from place to place, the meat is generally not marinated for very long.
'That’s why the flavor of the meat stands out so much more.'
Beef pounded repeatedly to tenderize it and spread it thin. When seared quickly over a grate, it creates Gwangyang-style bulgogi—crispy on the outside, juicy and tender on the inside.
"..."
He lifted a single piece of bulgogi from the grate.
Without any sauce or rice, Gio placed the pure piece of meat into his mouth.
"..."
"How is it? Good?"
"It’s delicious."
If he had been alone in the private room, he would have given it a standing ovation. It was that magnificent.
"They seem to use high-quality meat. The beefy aroma is rich without being gamey, and the texture is excellent. It seems to have been pounded extensively to tenderize it, yet the fact that it doesn’t tear at this thickness proves the chef’s skill is outstanding."
"You... talk a lot more when you eat something delicious."
"My apologies." He had simply lost himself in the flavor. "But it really is delicious."
"I can tell."
"It’s a flavor I’d like to try making myself."
The exterior, seared crisp over the charcoal fire, offered a brief hint of the bitterness unique to charred meat, adding a delightful contrast to the sweetness of the perfectly browned beef. The moderate fat marbled throughout carried a flavor as rich as stock—a testament to the quality of the beef itself.
"The seasoning is perfectly balanced, too."
The gentle sweetness infused deep within the meat likely came from pears, grated into the marinade to tenderize it. There was also a refined bitterness, suggesting some kind of alcohol had been added, which doubled the sophistication of the flavor.
"It pairs beautifully with the garlic. The aroma is just right, not too overpowering."
The sharp tang of garlic, embedded deep within the meat, tickled the back of his tongue, but having been grilled over charcoal, its harshness had melted into a mellow warmth. The sesame oil also seemed to be of high quality, leaving a fresh, fragrant aftertaste.
"..."
"Hmm? What is it?"
"I think they brew their own soy sauce, too."
"Are you a gourmet? How did you know that?"
"Is it true?"
"Uh... yeah, the owner did mention that to me."
Gio nodded. "The aroma of chili peppers was unusually strong, so I had a hunch."
"You don’t just love eating for no reason. Your palate is incredibly sensitive."
"The dipping sauce... is also delicious."
The ingredients seemed similar to the bulgogi marinade, but a subtle sweet-and-sour note and the deep aroma of plum blended seamlessly into the sauce, enhancing its flavor.
'It’s not plum extract, though...'
He suspected it was likely plum vinegar.
"..."
Dipping the meat lightly into the brown sauce flecked with bits of garlic, and eating it with a spoonful of steaming, fluffy white rice...
"..."
"Do you like it?"
"Yes."
"I see."
Indeed, there was nothing quite like the satisfaction of eating a mouthful of warm white rice.