“It’s delicious.”

Seo-jun thought as he dipped the Dekanto breast meat—not chicken breast—into the oil sauce and took a bite.

It was definitely delicious.

It was the same Dekanto as the one from the demon realm.

Then why did it taste better?

Because it was cooked with all sorts of medicinal herbs instead of just being boiled in blood?

Or because it was boiled in a cauldron?

No, that wasn’t it. None of that was the reason.

“It’s more edible than I expected.”

“It’s really good.”

“I made it myself, but I have to say, it’s delicious.”

It was because they were all gathered together, sitting close and eating.

‘It’s a shame Seo-woo isn’t here.’

He was at daycare.

Seo-jun had set aside some just in case, but according to Yeon-jun, Seo-woo didn’t like baeksuk.

Seo-jun could understand that.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t liked baeksuk as a child either.

The gamey smell, the texture of the chicken skin, the cartilage visible in the well-boiled drumstick...

It hadn’t seemed very tasty.

Back then, he had always wondered, ‘Why do adults insist on boiling chicken? Fried is so much better.’

But now, he understood why adults preferred baeksuk.

Baeksuk had a clean, mild taste, different from fried chicken. Finding the nuttiness within that simplicity was a unique pleasure.

It didn’t leave you feeling heavy afterward like fried chicken did.

Most of all...

“What was this dish called again?”

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s called baeksuk, Park bachelor.”

“Baeksuk… I bet it would taste great with cola.”

Originally, baeksuk was a practical way to ensure more people could get protein when meat was scarce.

And because it was a dish that embodied a sense of togetherness, adults naturally came to favor it.

Seo-jun dipped the meat deep into the oil sauce and topped it with kimchi.

Crunch!

The crisp texture of the kimchi, the nuttiness of the oil sauce, and the tender Dekanto meat blended together to create an incredible taste.

But just as he was about to continue, Seo-jun put his chopsticks down.

“Hyung, why aren’t you eating more?”

Yeon-jun asked curiously, and Seo-jun pointed to the kitchen.

“There’s mung bean porridge left.”

“Oh, right.”

Yeon-jun also put his chopsticks down.

A moment later—

Seo-jun returned with a large bowl of mung bean porridge and poured the oil sauce he had used earlier into it.

It might have looked a bit unhygienic, but just like adding leftover mustard sauce from dipping meat into bone broth soup, this was a hidden delicacy.

And with that, Seo-jun finished off the mung bean porridge as well.

Seo-jun remained in the shop alone, tidying up.

Park Yeon had gone off to hang out with Doo-shik, and Yeon-jun had left to pick up Seo-woo. Lee Sook-hee and Cha Jinmyung had also gone home, leaving the shop completely empty.

The bustling atmosphere from earlier was gone, replaced by utter silence.

After finishing the cleanup, Seo-jun enjoyed the stillness.

“……”

The sound of insects chirping outside felt like white noise.

The faint noise of cars from the distant city blended with the insect sounds, creating a kind of harmony.

It was around the time he started feeling drowsy that Lee Myung-seop walked in.

Click—!

Ding!

“Oh?”

Myung-seop paused. At this hour, the shop was usually full of people, yet it was quiet.

“You’re the one who came with Kim Chul-jun last time.”

“Oh, you remember me?”

“Of course.”

“But… it looks like you’re not open today.”

“We’re closed on Mondays.”

“I see. I was hoping for a drink…”

“By yourself?”

“Drinking alone has its own appeal, doesn’t it?”

Seo-jun thought for a moment before speaking.

“Come on in.”

“But you’re closed…”

“If I turn away a customer who came all the way here, you might not come back next time.”

“Haha. Now I guess I have no choice but to become a regular.”

As Myung-seop stepped inside, he sniffed the air.

“Smells like baeksuk. Am I right?”

“It’s Chobok today, so we made some for the family…”

Seo-jun trailed off mid-sentence.

Family?

Lee Sook-hee, Cha Jinmyung, Park Yeon.

Were they family?

Or had he simply come to think of them as family?

“Huh?”

“Ah… It’s nothing. Since it’s Chobok, I just had a small baeksuk gathering with the people around me.”

“Now that you mention it, today is Chobok. I hadn’t even realized.”

Hearing that, Myung-seop imagined a warm scene of family members gathered around the table, chatting and sharing a meal, and he smiled faintly.

“Last time, your gochujang pork belly was really good. Could I get that again?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’ll have a serving of that with some soju.”

“Just a moment.”

Seo-jun skillfully took the marinated gochujang pork belly from the fridge and placed it on a hot pan.

Sizzle—!

As the lingering aroma of baeksuk was slowly replaced by the scent of grilling meat, Seo-jun’s eyes landed on a pot.

It contained the leftover baeksuk drumsticks and meat he had saved for Seo-woo, who had ultimately chosen fried chicken over boiled chicken.

Originally, he had planned to give it to Doo-shik tomorrow, but since things had turned out this way, he might as well serve it to Myung-seop as a complimentary dish.

He first placed the cooked pork belly in front of him.

“This… this is one serving?”

“One serving that looks like two.”

“Haha. One serving that looks like two—I’ll enjoy it.”

“Also, if you don’t mind, have some of this as well.”

Seo-jun brought over the baeksuk pot, and Myung-seop chuckled.

“I can’t exactly refuse, can I? Thank you.”

After preparing a fresh batch of oil sauce, Seo-jun stepped away to let Myung-seop enjoy his drink in peace.

‘Something must be bothering him.’

Myung-seop let out deep sighs as he drank. But it would be rude to ask.

Seo-jun busied himself washing the remaining dishes, usually Park Yeon’s task.

It was then—

“Boss, would it be alright if I turned on the TV?”

“Of course.”

When Seo-jun handed over the remote, Lee Myung-seop turned on the TV and changed the channel.

The channel Myung-seop settled on was broadcasting the news.

-Following the Management Bureau’s announcement that IJ was behind the recent attack on Kim Chul-jun, the IJ spokesperson, Al-Baghdadi, has taken the unprecedented step of issuing a full denial. This is highly unusual, as IJ has typically claimed responsibility for any act of terror...

“Boss, could I get one more bottle of soju?”

“Sure.”

By now, Myung-seop had already emptied an entire bottle.

Click!

“Would you like me to pour for you?”

“This time, I can’t quite bring myself to say it’s okay. Drinking alone just doesn’t taste the same.”

Trickle—

After letting some of the alcohol evaporate, Seo-jun poured the drink.

The last time he checked, Myung-seop’s liver wasn’t in great condition. If he drank excessively, it would only be worse for his health.

“Ah! It tastes good. Strangely sweet, too. It was really bitter just a moment ago.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. Now that I think about it, this pork belly is the same. My wife is a great cook, and she makes gochujang-marinated pork belly sometimes. Hers is delicious too, but after a few bites, it gets overwhelming. But yours… I just keep eating without getting tired of it.”

“Thank you.”

Trickle—

-Experts are analyzing this unusual rebuttal as a psychological tactic by IJ. Meanwhile, the White House...

Myung-seop, who had been chuckling, suddenly downed his drink.

“Ah! This time, for some reason, it’s bitter again.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, boss. It’s not that the drink you poured tastes bad.”

When Seo-jun smiled faintly, Myung-seop, who had been fiddling with his empty glass, suddenly let out a small laugh.

“My father loved to drink. As a kid, I hated that, so one day, when he was drinking again, I asked him, ‘Dad, why do you like alcohol?’”

“……”

“And he told me, ‘Because today, I’m in a good mood.’”

Seo-jun nodded.

The taste of alcohol changes depending on one’s mood. If you’re feeling good, it tastes sweet; if you’re feeling bad, it tastes bitter.

So he asked cautiously.

“How about you, sir?”

“Since it tastes bitter, I guess I’m not in a good mood.”

Trickle—

“But strangely, I’m not getting drunk. Usually, when alcohol tastes bitter, I get tipsy right away.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. I’m already on my second bottle, and I’m just starting to feel a little buzzed. Normally, I’d be quite tipsy by now…”

“Maybe someone out there is looking out for you, making sure you can drink without getting completely drunk on a bad day.”

Myung-seop seemed to think about it for a moment before letting out a small laugh and nodding.

“That might be it.”

Clatter—

“Huh?”

“Oh?”

“Director, what brings you here?”

“Felt like having a drink. What about you, Chul-jun?”

“Same here. Mind if I join?”

“Of course.”

“Boss, could I get one more glass?”

Seo-jun took a glass from the fridge and handed it over before retreating to the kitchen to let the two talk freely.

They drank in silence, passing the bottle back and forth.

How much time had passed?

“Chul-jun.”

“Yes?”

“I’ve been wondering about something for a while. Mind if I ask?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why are you so friendly with the Management Bureau?”

“Surely, that’s not a problem, is it?”

“Hahaha. Of course not. It’s just… most people aren’t.”

As Myung-seop pointed out, most Awakened individuals were generally antagonistic toward the government and the Management Bureau.

The reason was simple.

They didn’t believe the government did anything to support them while demanding massive taxes.

And in truth, the tax rate was quite high.

“Well…”

Chul-jun trailed off, filling his glass to the brim and downing it in one go.

“I told you before, didn’t I? That I don’t really feel guilty about Jae-hyuk.”

“You did.”

“That wasn’t true. I do feel indebted.”

“Indebted?”

“If it weren’t for Jae-hyuk back then, I, and everyone else, would have died. I owe him my life. I’d love to repay that debt to his family, but…”

Myung-seop smiled bitterly.

Lee Jae-hyuk’s family had died in the early days of the upheaval.

“So instead, I do this. By helping out with government initiatives here and there, I find a little solace. I tell myself that I’m doing, even in a small way, what Jae-hyuk should have been able to do if he were alive.”

“I suppose that’s also why you make anonymous donations.”

“You knew about that?”

“It’s part of our job to monitor financial movements of high-ranking Awakened individuals like yourself. Tax evasion is a serious issue, after all.”

“I see. Yes, donating is part of it too.”

“Then I suppose it must feel unfair. You’ve earned a reputation as the ‘Demon King’ for being ruthless about making money, yet you donate so much…”

“I don’t mind. I consider it the price of my life. Besides, it’s not like I donated everything.”

Silence fell between them. But it wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence.

After some time, Chul-jun spoke up.

“That person.”

“That person?”

“The one I asked you to find.”

“Ah… Yes.”

“Did you find them?”

“We asked the police and even the National Intelligence Service for assistance, but no luck. We checked every CCTV and black box camera along the route you mentioned, but there was no trace of them.”

“We have to find them. Not just because they saved my life, but because they’re incredibly skilled.”

“Of course we will. Someone of that caliber being completely unaccounted for is a national security concern.”

Myung-seop’s resolve was firm.