Handing a Newbie End-Game Gear
Kim Hyeyun opened her eyes. A stark white ceiling. The sharp scent of disinfectant. "Is this... a hospital?"
She bolted upright. Oh no. How long was I out? She fumbled around, searching for her phone.
Ah... right. She had collapsed in the kitchen yesterday. Only now did the memories of yesterday hazily return. The hotel kitchen, the people who had visited promising to customize a knife for her. And after that... her memory was a blur.
But something was strange. Her body felt... light. Her shoulders, which had always felt as heavy as lead, were miraculously light, and her mind was crystal clear. The throbbing headache that had been crushing her was completely gone.
...I didn't have any nightmares. The nightmares that had relentlessly plagued her the moment her head hit the pillow. The sleep paralysis that forced her eyes open in the dead of night. Even that skin-crawling sensation was gone. She couldn't even remember the last time she had slept this deeply.
Her gaze instinctively drifted to her right hand. Hyeyun carefully rotated her wrist inward, then outward. "...Huh?"
It didn't hurt. The deep, sickening ache that used to throb from the depths of her joints had vanished as if it had all been a lie. She clenched and unclenched her fingers. She gently flexed her wrist. ...Nothing. No pain at all.
...Is it just because I got some rest? Even as she thought that, she couldn't shake a lingering sense of unease.
After completing her discharge paperwork, she headed straight to the restaurant. Although the director's text had told her to rest at home, she couldn't just lie around.
The major event was right around the corner. The city streets blurred past the taxi window. ...It was truly bizarre. Thinking back on the past few weeks, her current state of perfect health was utterly unbelievable.
She had first seen it a few weeks ago. The kitchen had been in the middle of a hectic dinner service. Suddenly feeling a chill on the back of her neck, she had looked up, only to see something with long, disheveled black hair hanging near the ceiling exhaust fan. She had screamed and fallen backward. When she looked again, there was nothing there.
"..."
As she awkwardly tried to stand, a sharp pain shot through her wrist. She must have braced herself against the floor when she slipped. Still, it hadn't seemed like a major injury.
The hospital had said there was nothing structurally wrong, either—just that she needed some rest. She had assumed she was simply exhausted. She had been pushing herself so hard lately that it wouldn't be surprising if she were hallucinating. So, she had brushed it off.
The real problem started that very night. The nightmares began. Every single night, something would sit on her chest, crushing the breath out of her. Whenever she forced her eyes open, that long-haired woman she had seen in the kitchen would be right in front of her face, grinning grotesquely.
"Whew... haaa..." She would wake up drenched in cold sweat in the early hours of the morning, unable to fall back asleep. Deprived of rest, her wrist—which was supposed to heal with a little downtime—showed no signs of improvement. Her knife work grew sloppy. Her seasoning was off. To a perfectionist like her, it was an unbearable, self-loathing ordeal.
Above all, she couldn't let anyone find out. At twenty-eight, she was the youngest head chef in this kitchen. She had previously served as the youngest sous chef at a world-renowned Michelin-starred restaurant abroad.
It was around that time that titles like "genius chef" and "the rising star watched by Michelin" began to follow her. And it was during that period that Director Yoon, who had visited the restaurant, personally scouted her.
But that position was, in reality, a bed of thin ice. A twenty-eight-year-old head chef at a luxury hotel restaurant was unprecedented in Korea. Naturally, there had been immense backlash.
Critics claimed an unproven kid had been placed in too high a position, sneering, Does she think studying abroad makes her special? It was Director Yoon who had pushed past all that opposition to appoint her.
However, Director Yoon himself was one of the youngest executives in the industry. Because such a person had insisted on placing a young chef at the helm, people didn't view the appointment as a pure scouting success.
They believed Director Yoon had installed her there just to make a statement: that age and experience didn't matter, only raw talent.
As a result, everyone was watching her. They wanted to see if this young "genius" chef would live up to her reputation, or if her lack of depth would soon be exposed. A head chef at that age? She just got lucky. She'll crumble in no time.
Under those watchful eyes, not a single mistake was permitted. The moment she slipped up, even once, they would pounce on her like vultures, eager to drag her down from her pedestal. If that happened, even Director Yoon might not be able to shield her anymore.
Therefore, she couldn't tell a soul that her wrist was trembling, or that she was being tormented by hallucinations every night. The moment she spoke of it, it would be the end of her career.
But secrets have a way of slipping out. Her mistakes grew more frequent. It was a microscopic tremor that others might not notice, but Hyeyun knew. She knew that the frequency of her knife slipping was increasing day by day.
And eventually... "Hyeyun. Is something going on lately?" Director Yoon had noticed. The dark circles that had grown progressively deeper, the occasional hesitation at her fingertips—he hadn't missed those subtle signs.
Of course, Hyeyun had adamantly denied it, claiming she was just a bit tired and on edge from preparing for the event. But it was after that conversation that strange people began drifting in and out of the kitchen. She couldn't help but notice.
At some point, bizarre individuals started frequenting the kitchen and the dining hall. An old man burning incense and chanting incomprehensible spells, people plastering talisman-like papers in every nook and cranny of the walls... She let out a hollow laugh. It seemed the director was a bit superstitious.
...As if any of that works. This is all my fault. Yes, she knew. It was just because she was overworked. Because she failed to manage her condition. Because her mental fortitude was weak. The nightmares, the wrist pain, the trembling hands—all of it.
...But still. What on earth was that yesterday? The memory of yesterday suddenly flashed in her mind. She had been told he was a master bladesmith, so she had just accepted it. But then that young man had suddenly pulled some strange talisman out of his coat.
What, him too? ...Don't tell me he's going to put something weird in my knife?
Just as she was growing suspicious, a brilliant flash of light erupted before her eyes—and she had lost consciousness on the spot.
"..."
Hyeyun quietly shook her head. It's probably nothing. Well, the hospital had said she was perfectly fine. Besides, she had woken up today after a miraculously deep sleep. She would be fine. ...Surely, she would be fine.
She had expected the kitchen to be empty since it was so early, but the lights were already on. "Oh my, Chef. You're here early."
A woman leaning against one side of the prep table turned around. It was the sous chef, Kang Mirae. She was seven years older than Hyeyun, and she had been the veteran closest to the head chef position. At least, until Hyeyun had snatched it away.
"I heard you collapsed yesterday, Chef." Mirae approached with a look of deep concern painted on her face. "Oh dear, I was so worried when I heard. Are you feeling any better now?" Her voice was incredibly sweet. But Hyeyun knew.
She knew that this news had likely spread to every corner of the kitchen by now. She could easily guess how the story of the young head chef collapsing right before a major event had been twisted and blown out of proportion as it passed from mouth to mouth.
"……I'm fine. It was just a brief spell of anemia."
"Really? You aren't pushing yourself too hard, are you?"
Mirae's eyes curved into soft crescents.
"You mustn't overdo it. If something happens to you, Chef, what will become of the rest of us?" She beamed.
Mirae was always like this—approaching her with a warm, affectionate smile despite being much older.
...Looking back, it was true. In this kitchen where everyone else stood by with folded arms, waiting for her to fail, Mirae was the only one who had taken her side.
When she had first arrived as the head chef, feeling completely out of place and sitting on a bed of thorns, Mirae was the one who had quietly approached her and looked after her. Because of that, Hyeyun had opened up her heart to Mirae, relying on her more than anyone else in the kitchen.
"That's why I was thinking, Chef..." Mirae tilted her head slightly, offering a sweet smile. "How about I handle the main dish today?"
"..."
Handing over the main dish for just one day wasn't actually a big deal. It was common practice for a sous chef to take charge of the mains. ...Under normal circumstances, that is. But ever since Hyeyun became the head chef, she had never once stepped back and let someone else handle the main dish.
While managing the entire kitchen, directing the staff, inspecting the ingredients, and personally overseeing the final plating, she had never let go of the most crucial tool: her knife. To avoid being dismissed as too young, to prove herself through sheer skill, she had always handled the most critical tasks with her own hands.
If she were to hand the main dish over to the sous chef on the very day after she collapsed, how would the eyes watching her interpret it? ...She didn't even need to imagine. She was grateful for Mirae's kindness, but that was precisely why she couldn't accept it.
"……Thank you for worrying about me, Mirae." Hyeyun offered a calm smile. "But I'm fine. I'll handle the main dish myself." Perhaps it was just her imagination, but Mirae's smile seemed to stiffen for a split second.
However, it quickly curved back into its usual soft shape. "Of course! Naturally, you should be the one to do it, Chef~"
Hyeyun gave a polite nod and walked over to her usual prep station. She had talked a big game, but in truth, she was worried about her hand. Was she really okay? Even if she felt fine this morning, there was no telling if her wrist would start throbbing the moment she gripped a knife.
She decided she needed to test her grip before the kitchen opened for service. But the moment she stood before her prep table...
"……Huh?" Instead of her worn-out knife bag, a luxurious, unfamiliar paulownia wood box sat on the prep table. And standing right in front of it... "Ah, Chef! You're here. How are you feeling?" It was the woman she had seen right before she fainted yesterday—the broker, Seo Jian.
And standing beside her was the craftsman, Dohyun, wearing a loose t-shirt with his face obscured by a black mask.
"……Huh?"
The chef's eyes widened as she approached the prep table. I gave her a light nod in greeting. I had pulled an all-nighter.
Once I started hammering in front of the forge, I just couldn't stop. It was so much fun figuring out how to engrave the circuits I had designed onto a single blade without them tangling together that I completely lost track of time.
It felt like some kind of real-time puzzle speedrun. The result? Utterly satisfying, of course. I was so eager to hear my client's feedback that I had nagged Jian-ssi early this morning to storm the hotel kitchen with me.
"How are you feeling?"
"Ah... Yes. Thanks to you, I got some good rest. But what brings you here so early?"
"The chef's knife you commissioned yesterday is finished. I brought it."
"What? Already?"
Utter bewilderment washed over the chef's face. Well, of course. I had received the commission yesterday afternoon, and here I was delivering it in time for her morning shift, not even a full day later. She probably thought I had just roughly polished some mass-produced factory blade and brought it over.
Without a word, I slid open the lid of the paulownia wood box.
*Slide—*
A single chef's knife rested on a bed of black velvet. The kitchen's fluorescent lights gleamed softly along the sleek, elegant curve of the blade. Embedded at the end of the hilt was a spirit stone that emitted a very faint blue glow.
"……." The chef froze, her eyes locked onto the knife. Even the woman watching us from behind—the sous chef, I assumed—had her eyes wide with curiosity. "Go ahead and hold it first." At my suggestion, the chef carefully gripped the hilt. The moment she lifted the knife...
"……Huh?" A dumbfounded sound escaped her lips. Of course she was shocked. The Weight Reduction Circuit was active, distributing the weight of the steel so that it felt as light as a feather.
On top of that, I had adjusted the balance to perfectly match her knotted wrist muscles and petite frame without a single millimeter of error. It was probably a grip unlike anything she had ever experienced in her life.
"Do you have something to cut?" At my question, the chef nodded as if possessed and reached toward a pile of green onions nearby. ...But then, a rock-hard kabocha squash caught my eye. "Let's go with that one."
"Pardon?" Her gaze drifted to the squash, and her lips twitched into an awkward, hesitant smile. It was obvious. With her bad wrist, she didn't want to touch an ingredient that required so much physical strain.
But I was confident. "Trust me, and give it a try."
"Ah..."
The chef glanced at the sous chef next to her. The sous chef beamed, her lips curling upward. "Go ahead, Chef~ Give it a try~" Reluctantly, Hyeyun placed the kabocha squash onto the cutting board.
*Thud.*
Just the sound of it hitting the board made its density clear. It was a tough, stubborn ingredient that normally required a significant amount of wrist strength to cut through.
"Then... I'll give it a try." She carefully raised the knife. And the moment she lightly brought the blade down toward the squash...
*Slice—*
The Auto-Balance Circuit and a subtle correction of spiritual power concentrated at the tip of the blade. Without a single shred of resistance, as if she were slicing through empty air, the blade glided through the squash.
*Clack.*
Split perfectly in half, the squash fell to either side of the cutting board. The cut surface was as smooth as polished glass.
"……?"
The chef froze. She stared back and forth between the squash on the cutting board and the knife in her hand. Her expression was that of someone who couldn't comprehend what she had just done. ...Ah. This was it.
The exact look on a newbie's face when you hand them end-game gear for the first time. I live to see this expression. If I hadn't been wearing a mask, my wide, smug grin would have been completely exposed.
Meanwhile, Hyeyun couldn't care less about the expression on Dohyun's face. What is this...? She hadn't put any strength into her wrist at all. Far from hurting, she barely even felt the sensation of having cut anything. It felt lighter than slicing through soft tofu. Wait a minute.
As if possessed, her hand moved on its own. She dragged over a thick radish and a tough, sinewy slab of meat that were piled nearby.
*Tap, tap, tap, tap!*
The chef's hands began to move so fast they became a blur. With every stroke, the ingredients were sliced into terrifyingly uniform pieces. Not a single slice stuck to the blade. It was impossible.
"Holy shit..."
Yeah, it's insane, isn't it? Hehehe.
...Ah, I need to control myself. A chuckle kept trying to escape.
*Grin, grin.*
Hearing the crude curse slip from the mouth of the sous chef watching from behind, Dohyun savored the thrill of satisfaction. Well, of course. To her eyes, the head chef before them must look like the god of knives itself had descended, showcasing flawless, god-like technique.
"Haa, haa..." After furiously hacking away at the cutting board, the chef stopped, catching her breath. There was not a single trace of the pain that had been tormenting her wrist.
Instead, she felt an overwhelming sense of unity, as if the knife had become an extension of her own arm. Her eyes trembled slightly before she turned to Dohyun, her face painted with sheer shock.
"Excuse me. What on earth... did you do to this knife?" she asked, holding it as if it were an artifact imbued with dark magic. What did I do? It was just a basic setup for a chef's knife. Ahem. In times like this, there was a classic line to deliver. Dohyun shrugged his shoulders and replied casually, as if it were no big deal.
"I just reduced the weight a bit so your wrist wouldn't hurt as much, and adjusted the balance."
"……What? This is just 'a bit'?"
"Oh, and one more thing."
"You don't need to sharpen this knife. For about three months, at least. If you're using it and it suddenly feels heavy or doesn't cut well, just contact me. I'll service it for you."
"What? I don't need to sharpen it...?"
"Maintenance is a paid service, by the way. Well then, happy cooking."
Now that I had said everything I needed to, I figured I should head up to the suite and catch some sleep. Leaving the dazed chef and sous chef frozen in place, Dohyun rubbed his sleepy eyes and coolly walked out of the kitchen. "Do-Dohyun-nim! Wait for me!" Seo Jian hurriedly chased after him. It was a perfect delivery for his very first commission.