I'll Teach You Baeksuk (3)

There is something every doctor in the world will tell you, speaking as one.

Refined carbohydrates are bad for your health. Eating those refined carbohydrates for dessert, in particular, is the worst thing you can do.

Yeah, yeah. If it kills me, it kills me.

In the end, words were only words. No warning, however grave, had ever been enough to stop a Korean from finishing a meal with carbohydrates. Spicy stir-fried chicken with fried rice. Pork ribs with cold buckwheat noodles. Hot pot, and even porridge to close it out. A Korean's love of refined carbs stood in a class of its own.

The truth was simply that Koreans knew good food. Serve that same carb-laden finish to someone from any country, and they praised the taste without exception. And another world, he was certain, would be no different...!

"It's a dish of finely shredded baeksuk chicken, with minced carrot, onion, and green onion, simmered in the baeksuk broth together with rice from the East."

I explained the chicken porridge to my customer with all due care. Whether she heard a word of it was another matter. Her eyes were locked on the porridge alone, and she was drawing hot, shallow breaths.

She could feel it instinctively. The hunger for carbohydrates, carved into human DNA.

"You eat it with a spoon. It's hot, so be careful. Well, then..."

I cleared out quickly, so she could follow that instinct in peace.

The moment the master left the table, Ishilla scooped up a spoonful of chicken porridge. Her patience was already at its limit, and she was about to put it straight into her mouth when his warning came back to her.

It's hot... he told me to be careful, didn't he?

She touched the tip of her tongue to it. It was hot beyond any comparison with warm water. Eat it like this, and she had a feeling the roof of her mouth would be left in shreds.

I have to hold back... hnn, I can't...

But her body was demanding it. Her brain was demanding it. Her DNA was demanding it. Supply this beautiful refined carbohydrate to her flesh, right now. Ishilla's legs trembled with impatience as she tried to soothe the urgency clawing at her. Perhaps it was because she had just eaten baeksuk packed full of warming, invigorating energy; her body burned as if it had been sitting a long while in the sun. It wasn't only her legs. Heat rose through her whole body, and sweat broke out. Beads of it had long since plastered her bangs to her forehead.

"Hoo... hoo...!"

She blew on the porridge to cool it. When the heat seemed to have died down a little, she took the long-awaited bite.

"Haah— hup!!"

A hot sound escaped her before she could stop it. She ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tried to swallow it out of embarrassment, but there was no helping it. She had thought she'd cooled it enough, and still the porridge startled her with its heat. Only after she rolled it around in her mouth and adjusted to the temperature did the flavor finally arrive.

Somewhere deep inside Ishilla, something gave a thick, heart-lurching throb. The taste of chicken porridge cooked to this perfection was that shocking. The savor of every ingredient in it crashed over her taste buds like a tidal wave. Just as a person can do nothing before a vast natural disaster, Ishilla could only stare, struck dumb.

If I learn a taste like this, I can never go back...

More than the supreme flavor flooding her now, she despaired at the threshold her palate would be raised to from this day on. Even so, the receptors on her tongue kept sending the porridge's tingling taste up to her brain. Despair and rapture took turns with her, and in that strange alternation Ishilla's mind grew hazy.

The broth had already been plenty rich when it was baeksuk. Now, with the starch from the rice melted into it, it boasted a body and a cling that belonged to another dimension entirely. The minced vegetables, sweet and still giving a little bite, and the finely shredded chicken were bound together by the broth's sticky viscosity into a single harmony. Realizing that her own tongue was writhing in the heat of that viscous liquid, and savoring it all the same, only stoked her excitement further for reasons she couldn't name.

It was a taste she wanted to feel forever, but the slick, soft ingredients slid down her throat before she knew it. As she prepared the next bite, her eyes caught on the red pickled vegetables she had eaten with the meal earlier. They had been an unbeatable pairing with the baeksuk. Wouldn't they go just as well with this chicken porridge?

Ishilla laid the pickles neatly over the porridge and ate.

And then Ishilla stopped thinking.

She had thought there was no flavor left in the world that could still surprise her, and this combination smashed that expectation to pieces with something close to violence. For her, in this moment, the act of eating slipped the frame of society and civilization altogether. It had fallen back into the raw urge to survive: take in good, delicious food, and keep on living.

"No more... I can't take any more...!"

When Ishilla came back to herself, the food had already had its way with her, and she was panting hard.

Kang Jinwoo, who had watched the entire disaster unfold, had only one thought.

She's completely lost her shit.

The silver-haired woman had been eating the baeksuk in a way that was already far from ordinary. Now, after the chicken porridge, she was grinning vacantly, eyes completely unfocused.

Had I put drugs in the baeksuk without realizing it?

Obviously not.

Status window.

My gut told me this was the culprit. The boost to umami, and the additional effect that appeared in the food. Those two things seemed to have produced a downright maddening synergy, and that was what had dragged such a dramatic reaction out of her.

The important point was that my ability didn't extend to knowing what that effect actually ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was. When I ate the food myself, I hadn't felt anything unusual. Maybe that was because I was a weakling with barely any mana to my name. Or maybe it was because I wasn't a human of this world to begin with. I couldn't tell.

The part I could guess at was this: didn't the effect manifest by pushing the food's original virtues to their limit? Baeksuk is the emblem of a summer tonic, every warming, yang-rich ingredient you can think of crammed into one pot. A soup boiled hot draws the nourishment out of its ingredients down to the marrow, which is why the flavor runs so deep. Those qualities of the baeksuk had probably been amplified. That would explain why a woman who looked as if she'd been raised in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠luxury was pouring sweat and still couldn't climb out of the food's afterglow.

I was watching her steadily when she felt my gaze, cleared her throat, and spoke.

"Ahem...! Ahem! I never imagined I could eat food of this caliber in a forest in the middle of nowhere. A master is a master, I see."

"Ah, yes, well... just say the word whenever it's convenient to settle up."

"I'll pay for the meal and for a night's lodging together."

"Huh? We don't do lodging."

"Pardon?"

She had been rummaging in her purse, and she asked again as if she hadn't heard me right. I said it once more.

"No lodging. Meals only."

"Uh... but the building has two floors, doesn't it? Then why did you build it so large?"

"Well... because I have to live here."

The conversation had slipped just slightly out of alignment. Was it because, in medieval fantasy, common sense held that a restaurant was a place that fed you and put you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up for the night? I had not the slightest intention of offering lodging, but she was looking at me as if I were the one saying something strange.

Still, if the owner says he won't, what can you do?

"I'll pay you plenty. Couldn't it be just for one night?"

"Hmm... even if you put it that way..."

I was stuck on the request that wouldn't let up when the man who had been eating with the girl stepped in to explain.

"The truth is, we were originally on our way to the city of Silbaerin..."

In short, the two of them—a coachman and his client—had meant to reach Silbaerin within the day, so they hadn't even brought camping gear, and then the carriage had broken down. They'd been stranded in the middle of the forest, and happened to find my shop.

Haa... not exactly circumstances I can refuse.

Living in this forest, I'd learned as much myself. There were beasts out here, and magical beasts, that could do a person real harm. A girl and a coachman camping at night with no proper equipment would definitely be in danger.

"All right. The situation's special, so stay the night. Just pay for the food."

"No. We're the ones imposing. We couldn't possibly..."

"It's fine. Take money for something like this, and heaven strikes you down later."

Years of running a shop had taught me how to sidestep a customer's attempt to slip me extra coin, and in the end she accepted it and paid only for the meal.

"Whew... all right. Thank you, truly. How much was the meal?"

"Thirty copper coins for the two of you together."

"What? Thirty coppers?"

She and the coachman stared at me in open shock.

What? Had I set the price far too high for this world's cost of living?

Even so, I had to stand my ground. The truth was, I had no desire to make a fortune doing business in another world. What I'd wanted from the start was to earn just enough to live on, and run a restaurant at an easy pace. So the prices, set at that bare minimum, were kept so that even an expensive dish didn't go over fifteen coppers. A simple laborer's daily wage was about thirty. At around fifteen, I figured, even common folk could come in for a meal now and then.

"Yes, thirty coppers. Is there some problem...?"

"It isn't a customer's place to say this, but isn't that far too cheap? It's a dish with a whole chicken in it..."

Ah. They were shocked because it was too cheap?

Even assuming the ingredients cost me nothing, thanks to magic, I had thought the baeksuk ran on the inexpensive side.

"It's fine. I'm not especially greedy for money."

It wasn't a situation I could explain at length, so I brushed past it. She listened, and murmured with a face gone soft with feeling.

"Truly... an attitude worthy of a master..."

"Sorry? What did you say?"

"Ah, nothing! Here's thirty coppers."

"Thank you. I'll show you to the spare rooms on the second floor."

Living alone, I had more empty rooms than I needed, and for once I was glad of it. I showed the coachman and the girl to a room each, then came back down to the first floor.

Doesn't look like there'll be any more customers anyway...

Somehow it was already nearing ten at night. Those two had been the only ones to come in during the dinner hours, so expecting anyone else was unrealistic. And because I'd ended up putting them up whether I liked it or not, I'd have to be up early in the morning myself.

Better close for the night.

I was normally open until dawn, but if I did that, I wouldn't be getting out of bed tomorrow. I tidied the shop, washed up, and went to sleep.

For breakfast, I could just give them whatever baeksuk was left...