I was supposed to be a customer, but here I am, working.
“Huh?”
When I came to my senses, I was standing in front of a mirror, dressed in a white chef’s uniform.
In the reflection, I saw myself with transparent gloves on my hands and a white headscarf.
As I stared blankly at my reflection, Malik looked at me with a proud smile and said.
“It suits you well.”
“What?”
“I said it suits you. If I had my way, I’d bury you here for a lifetime.”
I looked at the gloves on my hands and asked.
“What is this?”
“Work attire.”
“Then why am I wearing it?”
“Didn’t you come to eat?”
“And didn’t you say you’d give me food?”
“I have no intention of feeding you for free.”
Malik stated this as if it were the most natural thing. Although he called me here, he had no plans to give anything for free—the audacious nonsense Malik was spewing. I thought even the bear soup I left at the pet hotel would make more sense than this.
Taking off my gloves, I naturally extended my greetings.
“It was nice meeting you. Now, I’ll take my leave.”
“Where to?”
“I’m going home.”
“Hmm… That wouldn’t do.”
Malik uttered something ominous.
As Malik, who had been admiring the ‘Ferry 1’ wheelchair that Miss Olivia was sitting in, saying ‘Fantastic…’, he pulled a small piece of paper from his jacket’s inner pocket and showed it to me.
[Forest Friend (Snack Bar) – Settlement Slip]
Recipe provision fee: 500,000 gold
10% of sales: 50,000 gold
Miscellaneous. Idea provision profits: 100,000 gold
Total: 650,000 gold
“?”
Was it just my imagination, or was this simple receipt with a few numbers shining? Rubbing my eyes, I looked at the receipt in Malik’s hand.
“Is it because of the boss’s radiant halo that I can’t see well, or may I take a closer look?”
“So, would it be alright if I removed a couple of zeroes?”
“Not at all, boss.”
I carefully slipped back into the gloves I had taken off and finished preparing for work. Where else would you find a job that starts at 3 PM? A satisfied smile crept across my face thinking about leaving work early.
“A worker with the right visual appeal. An untiring worker—here I am, Ricardo, at your service. Who else would you hire?”
“It’s just for today. The chef had some urgent business and had to take a day off.”
“If you call, I’ll even lick your boots.”
Malik made a disgusted face and said.
“I refuse.”
“I’m not fond of it either.”
“…?”
“I was just being polite.”
Leaving a confused Malik behind, I turned to Miss Olivia, who was patting her stomach, and said.
“Miss Olivia, please enjoy the view here. I will make you some delicious tteokbokki and bring it to you.”
“Yeah.”
Malik slyly grabbed the handle of Miss Olivia’s wheelchair and shook his head.
“Lady Olivia will idle away her time with me.”
“What?”
“We need to taste-test the new mint chocolate-flavored tteokbokki we’re launching and get some feedback on the ‘Ferry 1’.”
Malik spoke formally, causing Miss Olivia to nod ambiguously and mumble.
“Ricardo told me not to follow strangers… Or did he not? I’ve seen you before, so you’re not a stranger.”
“We’re not going far. Just to the break room behind the kitchen.”
“Don’t use informal language.”
“Don’t you use it either.”
“Eeek…”
“So, Ricardo… what should I do?”
Miss Olivia looked at me with pleading eyes. I gave her a small smile and said.
“So, it’s just me working again?”
“Yep.”
“…Please go ahead.”
And so, I got to work.
In my past life, I dreamed of opening a restaurant using my own recipes, but I never thought the day would actually come.
The sight of the incoming customers gave me a strange feeling.
It felt like I was fulfilling one of the items on my bucket list, yet I also felt like I was getting the short end of the stick.
The receipt in my pocket filled me with energy, but the reality of being turned into a laborer after coming for a meal was depressing.
“Next customer.”
“Brother, you’re so handsome!”
“I know.”
A female student in a Royal Academy uniform shouted at me. Judging by her youthful face, she must be a freshman who joined this year. I wasn’t excited or happy. I had to focus on work.
Unmoved, I generously filled her bowl with three times the standard portion.
The female student looked at me with surprise.
“Uh…?”
“You’re also pretty.”
“Thank you!”
I winked and called the next customer.
The next customer was a male student who appeared to be the same age as the previous girl. He looked at me with expectation, having seen the overflowing bowl of the girl who left before him, and spoke up with a booming voice.
“Bro… You’re handsome!”
“Yes.”
I precisely measured the tteokbokki into the male student’s bowl to the standard portion. The student gave me a pitiful look.
“Is this it?”
“I’m sorry, but it’s the store’s policy to give the exact portion.”
“…”
The male student sat down at the table with a look of gloom.
Malik would have been furious with my way of running the store, but what can I do? If he trusted me with his store, he had to pay the price.
I felt sorry for Malik, but I hoped he would understand that it was inevitable for someone with strong opinions about gender discrimination like me.
I looked at the long line of customers and shouted energetically.
“Next customer!”
Since this was the situation, I’d work hard.
The work wasn’t as tough as I thought it would be.
Maybe because I had experience as a mainstay restaurant part-timer in my previous life, the daunting queue of customers felt manageable, and with my strong body, I even started to pick up speed in my work.
I was growing into a monster of the restaurant industry, able to fry tempura and make tteokbokki with both hands.
‘And that’s impressive…’
I marveled at the staff who silently replenished the missing ingredients next to me.
Including me, there were four employees in the store.
One clerk in charge of ordering and serving.
One assistant in the kitchen.
And another for handling payments—a total of three clerks.
It was certainly a small number to handle so many customers, but I believed Malik’s proud claim not to worry. I just didn’t expect it to be this much work.
The staff’s work abilities were beyond excellent, evoking my admiration.
The employees moved like one body.
Their hospitality and their ability to handle difficult customers were also outstanding.
‘I wonder how much they’re paid.’
Certainly, Malik had staff worthy of his pride.
And so, one team.
Two teams.
Ten teams.
More than twenty teams came and went.
“Next customer, may I take your order?”
“…I am”
A familiar voice reached my ears.
A voice as clear as juicy fruit.
Instinctively, I looked up. Surprised to hear the voice of someone I didn’t expect to meet here, I raised my head to see a girl with pink hair.
“Oh?”
A female student with pink hair, clutching an old pink wallet. She pondered deeply over the price list, and I addressed her.
“Oh? We meet again, Miss Yuria.”
The protagonist of this novel.
It was Yuria.
*
I could read the emotion of surprise on Yuria’s face as our eyes met.
She looked as if she had committed a crime, with her lips nervously trembling, and she seemed to have no intention of ordering.
As Yuria hesitated, the complaints of the people lined up behind her began to reach my ears.
-What’s going on?
-Why isn’t she ordering?
-Damn, it’s cold. Hurry up.
The outcry of hungry customers.
Some people, enslaved by the tteokbokki I made, had finished their bowls and were standing in line again.
Considering those enslaved patrons, I cautiously asked Yuria.
“Excuse me, Miss Yuria.”
“…”
“Miss Yuria?!”
“Yes?!”
Startled back to reality, Yuria jumped at my call.
I discreetly pointed with my finger at the clamoring customers.
“You need to place your order.”
“Ah… that is”
“I personally recommend adding fried snacks to the original tteokbokki. What would you like to do?”
“Ah… Yes.”
Yuria hesitated for a moment before correcting her order.
“Is there any chance you have the flavor from last time at the Royal Academy?”
“At the Academy?”
“Yes… the one you made before at the Academy.”
“Ah. Just a moment, please.”
I recalled the past.
It seemed to be around the beginning of the semester when Yuria was being shunned by her friends.
That subtle ostracism, that nasty act.
I knew that when Yuria entered the cafeteria, the chatty students would suddenly fall silent. Yuria didn’t come to the school cafeteria then.
Too self-conscious.
At lunchtime, she would quietly go outside to eat her packed lunch or skip meals altogether.
At that time, I was also subtly shunned, so I often cooked for Yuria, who was dining alone.
The memory of secretly calling her to the dormitory to cook for her.
Back then, I was a delinquent student skipping classes to shake off the Royal Academy’s fate.
I immediately understood what Yuria was referring to and nodded.
“Are you talking about the rose tteokbokki?”
“Ro…se?”
“Tteokbokki with a spicy yet creamy taste, made with a light red sauce.”
“Ah…”
Yuria nodded.
“That seems right.”
I gave Yuria a small smile and whispered.
“Normally, it’s not on the menu. But for Miss Yuria, I will make it especially for you. And you two.”
I looked at Michail and Ruin standing awkwardly behind Yuria and said.
“Feel free to starve.”
“What?”
“Next customer!”
I resolved not to serve it to them, as they would surely complain it didn’t taste good.
“Get lost!”
Michail and Ruin looked at me with incredulous expressions.