The Taste of Home

Mother must have come running the moment she heard the news at work, because she was still in her factory coveralls.

In a voice that would not stop shaking, I called out to her.

"Mom! O-over here!"

The instant she heard me, she came running, seized me by the shoulders, and demanded,

"Cheol-woo! Are you—are you really okay?! They said you got hit by a huge truck!"

The moment I saw her face, the tears nearly burst out of me. I had believed a hundred years had made me detached from everything in the world. In front of my family, I was defenseless.

Barely holding the tears back, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders.

"I'm okay. Luckily nothing's seriously hurt. They still need to run a full exam, but nothing's broken."

Only then did she let out a long breath of relief.

"Haa... thank god... When I got the call from the hospital, I thought something terrible had happened to you..."

"I think I blacked out from the impact when I got hit. I'm sorry I made you worry."

"Sorry, nothing. You didn't get hurt, and that's all that matters. Thank god... I'm so, so glad..."

I pulled her into a tight embrace as she fussed over me, her hands checking me over with worry. It was the warmth I had not forgotten for a single moment in a hundred years.

Of the tens of thousands of words that had been circling through my mind, the first to break free was something very simple.

"Hm? What on earth... Cheol-woo, are you sure you're really okay?"

"I'm fine... I really am. Mom, I missed you so much."

The moment the full examination and the settlement with the insurance company were both wrapped up, we headed home. Mother kept asking whether I shouldn't be in the hospital for a few days, but I insisted I was fine and that I wanted to go home.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"Yes, I'm really fine. Come on, Mom. I know my own body better than anyone. Let's just go home."

A hundred years in the Gods' Workshop had pushed my ability to read and diagnose a thing far past the limits of any human. Aside from a few abrasions, there was nothing wrong with me at all.

And the truth was, more than anything else, I had missed home too much.

It wasn't that the Gods' Workshop had been uncomfortable. The facilities there would have put a five-star hotel to shame. Even so, in all those hundred years, it had never once felt like my home. It had only ever felt like living in someone else's very nice house.

It's been so long...

It was an old apartment building, faded even in my memory, but the moment I stepped through ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the door, a familiar warmth came out to greet me.

We had barely gotten inside before Mother headed for the kitchen.

"You were stuck at the hospital, so you haven't had a proper meal. I'll put something together. Just wait a minute."

"Never mind that — is work okay today?"

"My son gets in a traffic accident and you think I can keep my mind on work? And don't worry. I already told the team leader I was taking the day off."

A little later, from the kitchen, came a sound and a smell that had been waiting for me on the far side of memory.

I don't know how long it was before she brought the table out.

A single mackerel, grilled to a perfect golden brown. A pot of soybean paste stew, still bubbling. And a dish of sharp, tangy kimchi. It was a humble spread, and it was the meal I had missed more than anything in the world — the one my mother had set on the table for me.

"All right. Let's eat."

My voice shook as I picked up my spoon.

"Th-thank you for the meal."

And the moment I took that first bite of the still-bubbling stew, something inside me nearly came apart.

Meals on Mount Olympus had never been lacking. They were the banquets of the gods, and the quality was extraordinary as a matter of course. As Hephaestus's proxy, I had eaten the same food he did. But no matter how superb the cuisine of Olympus was, I was certain of one thing: it could never win against this.

I barely held back the sob that wanted to break loose.

"It's delicious... Mom."

"Delicious? I just threw together what was in the fridge. Tonight I'll go out and get some bulgogi meat and cook it up for you. You need meat if you want those injuries to heal faster."

The worry in her voice. That, more than anything, was why I had never been able to forget this place for a hundred years.

I forced a smile, fighting down the tears that threatened to spill.

"Bulgogi? Bulgogi sounds great...! I'll come with you later."

"Will you be all right? You're hurt — don't push yourself."

"Push myself? If I just sit still, even the parts that don't hurt will start hurting. Mmm...! The kimchi's great too!"

"This kid... it's the same kimchi we eat every day... Are you sure you're really okay?"

I packed my mouth with rice.

"Of course."

After a meal that had been a small ordeal of its own, Mother brought out fruit. It was an ordinary Korean melon, and even that had no right to taste as good as it did.

"Even if nothing's broken, traffic accidents can come back to haunt you later. Eat plenty of fruit like this and get your vitamins so you don't get aftereffects."

I took the fruit she had peeled for me and quietly looked around the apartment. An old television. Worn furniture. And, in a corner of the living room, a cat sleeping as if it hadn't a care in the world.

This is nice.

It was a scene of the most ordinary kind, and that very ordinariness made me happier than anything.

When the fruit was gone I got up to do the dishes, and Mother stopped me more times than I could count.

"That's enough. You rest. What kind of injured person does the dishes? Mom'll take care of it, so you sit down and watch some TV."

"No, I'm really fine..."

But her stubbornness was not something I could break, not even after living more than a hundred years.

It'd be easier to break Poseidon's stubbornness.

So while she washed up, I looked at the face of a cat I hadn't seen in a hundred years and wandered from room to room — and then a phone rang.

It wasn't mine.

I followed the sound and found it coming from Mother's cell phone.

"Mom, you've got a call."

"I'll call them back when I'm done with the dishes. Just leave it."

I was about to set it down, just as she'd said, when a text came in.

A text about overdue interest on a loan.

I had known, even from what little I remembered, that the family's finances were nothing to boast about. But if even the interest on a capital loan had gone into arrears, things were far worse than I had thought.

"Ah, right. Cheol-woo. When did you say the university tuition was due?"

"University tuition...?"

"You said your grades were bad this time, so you wouldn't be getting a scholarship."

"......"

Finances this tight, and a government scholarship still hadn't come through? That could only mean I really hadn't studied at all.

What the hell kind of guy was I, anyway...?

Then again, if I dug through the memories, the man I had been a hundred years ago had gotten out of the military and spent every other day getting wasted. Forget a part-time job — I had even taken allowance from my mother.

God, I really was a worthless piece of shit...

I was sighing at my own pathetic former self when a vibration buzzed against my thigh.

This time it was an alert on my own phone.

Now what.

What the hell...

It looked like a card bill, and the amount due was not small.

What did this college kid even spend all that on...

I scrambled to open the banking app and check the balance first.

"......"

I thought I was looking at a madman. The balance was so absurdly empty that I started regretting not staying in the hospital a few more days.

Maybe I should've asked Zeus for a few chunks of gold on the way out...?

On Olympus, lumps of gold had been more common than rocks. Not bringing even one of them with me felt painfully, stupidly regrettable.

"For now, Mom'll figure something out by next month. So don't you worry about a thing."

Her promise to somehow make it work made something in my chest ache.

"No. It's okay, Mom."

"Okay? You said you have to pay tuition this time because your grades were bad."

I fumbled for an excuse and glossed over it.

"No. There was... some kind of mix-up, they said. The tuition's covered."

"Is that really true?"

"Yes. It really is."

She let out a long breath of relief.

"Aigoo... thank goodness. This month was already a little tight. That's a real weight off my shoulders."

"Mom. I'm going to go lie down in my room for a bit."

"All right. Get some good sleep. That's the fastest way you'll feel better."

I needed to work.

I did, after all, have a hundred years of experience from the Gods' Workshop. Whatever the job, I would be well above average.

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠scrolled through a job site, and one posting caught my eye.

"Oho..."

A daily wage of a hundred and fifty-five dollars was genuinely attractive, and the hours were more than decent. The workplace was even a fifteen-minute trip from home.

There was nothing to think about. I called immediately.

"Ah, yes. Hello. I'd like to apply for the position."

"Hrm..."

The factory owner, who looked like a man not easily pleased, looked me up and down several times. Then he asked,

"How old did you say you were?"

"Twenty-three."

"Twenty-three... that's young. You've got the certification, at least. But do you actually have welding experience? We're hiring people with real experience here. A certificate you picked up at school won't cut it."

Experience?

I had done more welding than anyone in this factory. No — you could count on one hand the people on Earth who had welded more than I had.

"Yes. I did welding work in the field for a hundred—I mean, about a year."

"Is that so?"

Someone came up beside the owner and cut in.

"Just hire him, boss. I've been doing this alone for two weeks now. At this rate we'll never hit the quota. Try him out first, and if he's no good, you can decide then."

"For heaven's sake..."

The owner gave me a dubious look.

"Fine. Let's start with a test. If it's a complete disaster, there's nothing I can do. You understand?"

"Yes, sir."

The owner gestured to the man who had just been complaining.

"Taeseok. Take this kid and run him through a test."

The man called Taeseok waved me after him.

"Follow me."

I followed him into the factory.

Taeseok, walking ahead, came to a stop and asked Cheol-woo,

"You said you've got a fair amount of welding experience?"

"Yes."

Taeseok picked a welding rod and a welding mask up off the floor and held them out.

"See that stainless plate over there? It's pretty thin, so controlling the heat distortion won't be easy. Give me a butt weld on that."

Cheol-woo nodded, pulled on the protective gear with the ease of long habit, and took up the rod. Taeseok, who had been a welder at this company for five years, watched from behind.

This won't be easy. Even for someone with experience, this is no joke.

A thin stainless steel plate, barely three millimeters thick. Metal that thin warped at the first kiss of heat, and holding a consistent shape through a weld was not something you did unless you were a fairly seasoned hand.

Taeseok hadn't assigned it expecting a twenty-three-year-old to pull it off perfectly. It was only a test to gauge how good he was.

All ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right. Let's see what he can do.

But the Cheol-woo who took up the welding rod found ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the whole situation nothing short of laughable. He was a man who had spent a hundred years in the Gods' Workshop working Divine Metals. Welding of this level wouldn't even draw a yawn from him.