A Perfect Dinner

The siblings returned far sooner than I'd expected.

Their backpacks were heavy. I'd told them to sweep up whatever they could get their hands on, so filling the bags must have been no trouble at all.

Yu Jin whined the moment she walked in.

"Ugh, I want a shower. There's so much dust everywhere."

"You've been living like a beggar just fine until now. Why the sudden fuss?"

"Boss, are you seriously a T? Not one word of sympathy."

Yu Jin puffed out her cheeks and dropped her backpack onto the floor with a thud.

Yu Hyeon, who had followed silently behind, set down the burlap sack slung over his shoulder and gave a respectful nod.

"I've cleared most of the area around the inn. I also found the items you requested."

"You've worked hard."

Reliable as ever, Yu Hyeon. The ace of our little inn, you could say.

Unable to wait, Yu Jin butted in.

"Hey, what about me?"

"What about you?"

Grumbling, she unzipped her backpack.

"I'm the one who found this, you know."

What she held out was a Christmas tree ornament bulb.

"Oh, nice find."

"It was at the church. You can thank me."

"Thank you — I'm moved to tears."

The church truly gives generously. I believe, hallelujah.

Though I'm decidedly not hallelujah-ing about the zombie apocalypse trial they sent down, I figured I'd put this to good use anyway.

When they emptied their bags onto the floor, out poured a mountain of junk that any other survivor wouldn't have given a second glance.

Pre-collapse treasures, so to speak.

The only things worth my attention were a few batteries and a single pack of ramyeon.

Must have looted the church offering box too, because dozens of crumpled banknotes were scattered across the floor.

Yu Jin nudged a 50,000-won bill toward me with her foot.

"You're telling me even this trash counts for points?"

Yu Jin asked, bewildered.

I just smiled knowingly.

The system valued these scraps of paper at a whole 1 point each.

Items of this size and weight were normally processed as 0 points, so by comparison it was shockingly generous treatment.

When we'd cleaned out the inn last time, I'd been puzzled by the surprisingly large haul of 100 points from the bulk dismantling of junk.

No matter how I thought about it, nothing in there had been worth more than the wad of cash from the master bedroom drawer — and apparently I'd been right.

Wait a second. What about emptying a bank vault?

Gulp.

Just imagining it made my mouth water.

Who in this world would bother with a bank? They'd all be too busy guarding supermarkets and logistics warehouses.

A farming spot that was mine and mine alone — one where I could photocopy points day after day without ever clashing with a dangerous large faction.

Just then, Yu Jin picked up the precious metals rolling around on the floor and draped them all over herself.

She layered pure gold necklaces around her neck, jammed thick rings onto every finger, and struck a gaudy pose.

"Cha-ching! Boss, don't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I look like a hip-hop rapper?"

Decked out in a tracksuit and draped in gold, she looked weirdly convincing.

I asked, half in disbelief.

"Why does a shantytown church have that much gold?"

"It was in the pastor's office safe. Guess he was a total cult leader."

Before the collapse it would have bought a foreign luxury car; now it was just a lump of heavy metal.

Compared to the other items, the points were quite rewarding.

Crushing in bulky furniture only netted a measly 1–2 points, but precious metals received a high-purity raw material ruling and graded in a whole different league.

Three gold necklaces for a single bottle of water. What kind of windfall was that?

First, I decided to settle up for everything they'd brought back.

I sorted the haul into three categories.

Things we needed right away, things worth keeping for later, and things we could do without.

The batteries, the tree bulb, and the ramyeon went into the immediate-use pile, while the odds and ends that might someday come in handy got shoved into the corner of my room.

Then everything that remained — the precious metals, the banknotes, and the trash we could easily scavenge anywhere — was ground up into points without a trace.

Total haul: 590 points.

Watching the items dissolve into light before her eyes, Yu Jin's gaze lit up.

"Boss, how many points did we get? So we can have fried chicken now, right?"

"Not even close."

Fried chicken cost a whopping 2,400 points. Sadly, there were no first-order discount coupons. The one silver lining was that delivery was free, I suppose.

"Don't even dream about chicken for a while."

"Aww."

Clearly still fixated on the points shop.

Since it was an ability bound to come out sooner or later anyway, I'd given the siblings only a vague explanation of it.

I'd glossed over the things I didn't understand myself, but let slip whatever information was safe to share.

It built trust — and more importantly, it was the only way those two would go out scavenging with any enthusiasm.

This time Yu Jin asked with genuinely hopeful eyes.

"Then what about eggs?"

"Eggs I can do."

"Then let's have ramyeon with eggs in it!"

Thirty points an egg. Considering how hard they'd worked, it wasn't something I couldn't spare.

I handed Yu Jin some wet wipes and a plastic water bottle.

"Good work today. Go clean up with this and rest. It's toilet water, so don't drink it. I'll handle dinner."

There was actually more time ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠left before sundown than I'd expected, but I didn't send them out for any extra scavenging.

Once the sun fully set, the zombies would all be half-sprinting, and they became insanely sensitive to even the smallest light or sound.

How sensitive, you ask?

There were those who, confident in the safety of a second-floor room, got busy going at it — only for the moan they let out at the climax to draw a zombie horde's aggro and get eaten alive.

A world where the lousier your pussy, the worse your odds of survival. Truly a tragedy.

A few hours later, the window had turned red without my noticing.

To anyone outside, it meant the beginning of terror. To us, it was the signal for a happy dinner hour.

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠headed to the back yard of the inn.

It was a cramped sliver of land barely half a room wide, but it was a proper territory of mine, protected by the system.

The tall gray walls that sealed off the view felt less claustrophobic than they did reassuring — like my own personal fortress.

"Dinner time! Come out to the back yard."

I brought out two large powdered milk tins I'd stashed in the corner of the yard.

I'd punched air holes up their sides and lashed together wire stands for them — homemade improvised burners.

I stuffed the tins with scraps of dry kindling and lit them with a lighter.

Two-burner stove, complete.

In moments like these, I had smokers to thank for the disposable lighters littering every corner of the world.

Not that it made me forgive the cigarette-butt flickers one bit. May every last one of them die. Please and thank you.

"Yaaawn…."

Yu Jin stretched as she came out, with Yu Hyeon following quietly behind her.

"Hee, Boss. Can I get my hopes up today?"

"Is it ramyeon? Then why are there two flames……"

Yu Jin's eyes gleamed, and Yu Hyeon too gazed at the double milk-tin setup with curiosity.

"You really don't need to go to such lengths for us. You said points should be spent where they matter most……"

"Come on, oppa. What are you talking about? This is all part of an employer's duty. Right? It's our rights as employees!"

The siblings chattered away in high spirits.

I flashed a benevolent smile and pulled up the quest window.

A risk-free quest that had popped up that day.

Rather than clumsily rationing points to feed them, it was smarter to feed them properly and get 300 points refunded for it.

Cornmeal? Rejected.

It was on the cheap side at 300 points per kilogram, but it didn't exactly pair well with ramyeon.

Turning it into sujebi dumplings was out too — I barely had enough water to boil the ramyeon as it was.

Worse, carbs on carbs made me doubt we'd crack 80 satisfaction.

Of course, the moment the water lines came back on, this pair would be living off nothing but cornmeal, but that was beside the point.

Instead, an ingredient had caught my eye.

Pork fatback.

300 points for 500 grams.

Half the quantity, but overwhelmingly more calories — and it counted as genuine meat, meaning I could pump both satiety and satisfaction sky-high at once.

In this world, it was worth more than lean cuts ever could be.

I hit accept immediately.

With a ding, a lump dropped out of thin air.

A cold, springy texture through the plastic wrap.

Occasional streaks of red meat marbling the white layers of fat — a flawless slab of fatback.

I spent another 90 points to add three eggs on top.

"Alright, first things first……"

I tossed a generous handful of coarsely chopped fatback into the heated aluminum pot.

Sizzle—!

Along with that long-lost ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sound, a rich, nutty smell of pork lard filled the yard.

How long had it been since I'd smelled anything like it?

"Is that…… pork?"

"Whoa, what is that? The smell is insane, seriously!"

The fatback shrank and rendered out clear oil. I ladled a bit of the oil and some of the fatback into the frying pan beside it.

Then I stir-fried the ramyeon seasoning in the remaining oil in the pot, drawing out a spicy chili oil.

Yu Jin sniffed the air curiously, watching from the side.

"You fry the seasoning? Weren't we just having ramyeon with eggs?"

"This completely changes the broth."

I poured the hoarded water from the plastic bottle into the pot.

While the broth came to a boil, I fried the three eggs in the frying pan along with the rest of the fatback.

Eggs fried in lard — who knew I'd get to enjoy such luxury?

The fatback pieces to be used as garnish fried up golden and crisp, and the egg whites crackled away.

The eggs couldn't be cooked all the way through. Whites crisp, yolks just barely set.

When the broth in the pot hit a rolling boil, I added the noodles and the flake packet.

But a single pack of ramyeon wasn't going to fill three bellies. I brought out the biscuit sticks I'd been saving instead of eating and divided them into three bowls.

Then, the moment the noodles hit the perfect doneness, I ladled the rich red broth over the biscuit-stick bowls.

The remaining noodles got split into exactly three equal portions too. It'd be disheartening to be treated differently over a meal. Absolutely not because I'm a pushover.

Finally, I piled the toppings on top — the crisply fried pork fatback and the soft-boiled fried eggs.

The broth-soaked biscuit sticks had already swelled up.

Glistening beads of oil floated on the crimson broth. The heavy, savory depth of pork lard, the fiery aroma of ramyeon seasoning, and a colorful array of toppings to carry the texture.

At least in this moment, the most perfect dish in the world had been born.

"Alright, dig in before it gets cold."

Before the words had even left my mouth, the siblings' chopsticks were already moving.

"Shloop… shlrp!"

"……Whoa!"

A startled laugh burst out of Yu Jin's mouth, stuffed full of noodles. She stared at me with wide round eyes.

"What is this broth? Boss, what did you DO to this ramyeon? It tastes like stew from a barbecue joint?!"

"The texture of the fatback is exquisite too. What even is this……"

Even the taciturn Yu Hyeon kept marveling between bites, chopsticks flying without pause.

Yu Jin tried a biscuit stick and her eyes went huge.

"Whoa……. Oppa, try one of these. Is this fried tofu? Sujebi? Whatever it is, it's wild — and so good."

It really was delicious. In a world like this, what wouldn't be — but this was no polite exaggeration.

The signature dry chalkiness of the biscuit sticks was nowhere to be found; soaked in rich oil, they chewed like springy hand-torn dumplings.

The nutty richness and heft of the crisply crackling fatback, and the ramyeon seasoning fried alongside it delivering the perfect kick that cut right through any greasiness.

And with the runny yolk luxuriously coating the noodles, not a trace of that stale-oil smell unique to expired ramyeon remained.

The ultimate calorie bomb striking the brain dead center. The opening shot announcing the end of our forced vegan lifestyle.

The siblings kept slurping down the broth.

"Mmmhgh…. It's delicious. It's so good. Boss, I'm seriously going to work here my whole life…. sniff, it's just too good."

"Truly…. it is. Delicious. Thank you, Boss."

Just feeding them properly raised loyalty.

In a world where people wagered their lives on a single can of food, nothing about that was surprising.

Eat up, kids. That's how you'll keep working tomorrow.

Even as I mulled over how I'd put these two to use again tomorrow,

watching them enjoy what I'd cooked this much put me in a good mood for no particular reason.