Chapter 69

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Translator: Wjin

Chapter: 69

Chapter Title: Jjampong for Breakfast

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I learned today for the first time that jjampong could be served for a hotel breakfast.

"......"

The window overlooking all of Seoul at a glance and the pristine tablecloth greeted me.

Good heavens! Such a luxurious yet utterly uncomfortable morning!

"I didn't believe it when the maknae was going on about romance just yesterday."

He was the kind of man who wouldn't bleed a drop even if pricked with a needle.

He'd never gazed intently at me before, but after hearing about the jjampong at the door earlier, he'd gone ahead and had it served like this. Just from that, I could tell how utterly exhausted he must be—and people like him were total opposites of me.

'He reeks of Team Leader vibes.'

As I hesitated over whether to pick up my chopsticks, Isara spoke up.

"You developed a hobby of spying on people's private lives now?"

"Ah, on the way to work. You didn't think I'd fail to notice after you picked our hotel, right?"

"It's just familiar. Closer ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠than home when I pull an all-nighter. I use it often."

"Sure. Of course you do."

"Don't sneer."

"Eat. It'll get cold."

Their relationship was peculiar. They didn't seem close, yet there was some invisible thread binding them that couldn't be severed.

I figured it was because they were family, but his gaze as he spotted me emerging from the hotel room with his little sister was utterly dry.

"Is the seasoning to your liking?"

He asked me directly. If I said no, he looked ready to summon the head chef on the spot.

"Thanks to you."

"Good. I know it's rude on a first meeting, but how do you know Sara?"

Reinforcements jumped in abruptly.

"If you know it's rude, don't ask. That's manners."

"Ah, sometimes rudeness builds trust. And it's about my little sister."

I couldn't help but chuckle at the way he eyed me, urging a quick answer. For a fleeting moment, his eyes flickered with brotherly curiosity.

"Business partners."

"Ah, so that's why the maknae's been so aggressively pushing investments?"

He seemed averse to jjampong broth splattering, so he fished out the noodles and ate them with a spoon.

If that's the case, just eat rice.

Any more leeway, and we'd be hearing 'What does your father do?' next, so I focused on my jjampong. But Isara spoke up.

"He's reliable, has a clear sense of self, and isn't after my benefits, so don't worry."

"Partners still benefit each other somehow. That's proper."

He seemed to assume I was also playing the role of Isara's boyfriend. It wasn't entirely wrong since I was a guy and a friend, but anything beyond that made me uncomfortable.

"It's not the kind of relationship you're concerned about. Nothing happened today either."

"......Is the maknae that lacking in charm?"

Why's he getting upset?

"......That's not what I meant."

"Are you married?"

"Not at all."

"Preferences the other way?"

"Absolutely not."

"Strange. A young man and woman sharing a hotel room, neither of those things, and nothing happens."

This guy just subtly sighed in relief.

I was starting to get a read on him. I hadn't done anything awful to Isara, nor was I demanding too much from her, so I had every right to be confident.

"I hear that a lot—people say I'm picky about who I keep around because my standards are high."

As I spoke, the jjampong noodles stuck in my throat slid down smoothly.

"Same goes for my friends."

"Friends, huh. My life philosophy is that men and women can't be just friends."

"My experience says they can."

"Your life's been too short to tout experience like that."

"Not everything's what it seems."

I flashed a grin, and his eyes shifted slightly. Still at the 'Who does this guy think he is?' stage, but he'd realize I wasn't some young buck unable to control his lust.

"Friends...... Fine."

Seeing no change in Isara's expression, his interest waned, and he said,

"I'll watch how long that philosophy holds."

"By all means."

"As I said, I'm on my way to work, so I'll head out first. Finish up."

As he left, Isara said,

"Sorry. My brother's personality is a bit like that."

He hadn't even asked my name.

"It's fine. It was enlightening."

But same here.

'Heh heh.'

I couldn't help but laugh.

"What was enlightening about it? He was a total jerk. Ugh, I shouldn't have come here. Damn booze!"

Characters like him weren't easy to come by. Especially if he was a real chaebol heir?

'I can use him right away today.'

Chaebol family jerk eldest son No. 1.

I could trap even the rudest people in my novels. That was me—and my unique power.

'I'll grind him down hard.'

That aside, I worried about Isara. What if this caused some needless misunderstanding because of me?

"Hope I'm not causing you trouble on your way home."

"If anything, it's me. He has to do a strategic marriage, so before that, he acts out more wildly than you'd imagine to have his fun. Coming out of a hotel with a guy barely scratches the surface."

"Glad to hear it, then."

I smiled and said,

"Thanks for the meal. This place does jjampong better than any restaurant."

"If you think of it later, come for dinner. It's not normally on the breakfast menu."

I doubted I'd return, but I told Isara I would and left the hotel.

A morning taxi ride back to the goshiwon.

'Gotta squeeze in at least an hour more sleep.'

My stomach bubbled from wolfing it down. Meeting Isara's brother wasn't planned, but spending the night with her hadn't been either.

'Gonna get an earful, huh?'

Thinking of Ye-jin worrying made me grimace over excuses.

'Huh?'

The driver tapped his screen. It should've been a navigation screen in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a stock car, but this one was modded—DMB kept playing even while driving. He switched channels, and a drama came on.

'Whoa, that's new.'

Not the tech, but the drama was about a mob boss's youngest son.

Isara had mentioned yesterday that our drama surpassed 30% average ratings.

Just hearing the numbers had been 'Oh, cool!' but seeing someone watch it live made it sink in.

Sensing my gaze, the driver said,

"I'll drive safe, don't worry. Thirty years behind the wheel."

"Ah. Okay."

Mixed emotions hit me. My story had wormed into the daily life of a man who'd driven taxis for thirty years.

He'd be in that taxi all day today. The feeling of offering even a sliver of comfort to someone's life was nice—maybe amplified by it being morning rush hour.

Since we're at it.

"Enjoying it?"

Time for some market research.

"Heh heh, I don't usually watch dramas, but this one's fun. My son kept nagging me to watch."

Once conversation started, the driver unleashed his pent-up chatter.

"You gotta watch it, sir. So refreshing."

There was definitely the part I'd intended, but everyone takes something different from it. Still, if it let a middle-aged family man empathize with his weariness even briefly, it opened doors to trying more.

"What part?"

The driver said,

"Everything he does turns out great—'Well done! Good job!' Heh heh heh! Makes my mood lift too."

Desire for recognition.

Men born and raised in Korea probably have little experience with praise.

Become class deputy? 'When will you be class president?' Second place? 'Who's first?' They'd grown up in this cutthroat competitive society.

It was bearable back when they didn't know how the upper class lived, but now SNS makes comparisons brutally stark.

The Team Leader always hammered on empathy, vicarious satisfaction, and desire for recognition.

I got the first two roughly, but weaving desire for recognition into novels had been tough.

If it was that easy, you write it!

'No, don't touch the danmuji!'

I must've dozed off briefly.

"We're here."

I woke to the driver's voice.

"Thanks."

"Heh heh! I'm the thankful one. Have a great day!"

I watched the taxi pull away. Now I truly understood what the Team Leader had meant.

Emotions flowing between people. Exploiting them might sound negative, but I’m a writer. If I draw them out to their fullest, empathy can turn into something deeply moving—and if my work brings comfort to someone, it becomes more than just a product.

'Product?'

The Team Leader had forced it.

'No.'

I'd had to come first to eat well too. But what I truly needed to do might've been purer.

'The ultimate of everything is......'

Savoring that small epiphany, I turned—and Ye-jin was standing there.

"Drinking again?"

No, art......

"Whew. The smell! You know there's a meeting this afternoon, right?"

"Ah, yeah."

Sorry. Slipped my mind for a sec.

"Breakfast? Did you eat?"

"Yeah, with a chaebol family's eldest son."

"Pardon?"

"Real person."

I'm not one to lie, and hearing the companion was the eldest son softened Ye-jin's tone.

"I overdid the drinking. Wake me if I'm late."

Slap.

"You'll ruin your health!"

Ye-jin's hand lightly smacked my shoulder.

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How grateful that felt.

I flopped face-first onto the bed the moment I entered my room.

Maybe from the hectic morning, but eyes shut and I was out again.

The jerk scolded her, but I always took her side. I wanted to help her connect.

I worried about her mental state starting with a death theme, but everyone here was a bit off anyway, so I focused on the question.

Hmm, too cliché.

Some relief, at least?

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Heh heh, scored some points? If I could get out of here, I'd share so much with Number 7. Even jjampong for breakfast at the hotel......

Whoa. This jerk butts in with nonsense?

Hot springs are decent. Would be nice with Number 7.

'Me......'

And what more should you do?