He took a bite of the uncut kimbap. A bright smile spread across Lee Seo-jun’s face.

This taste, different from store-bought kimbap... Yes, this was it. The taste of the kimbap his mother used to make when he was a child.

‘Good thing I added spinach.’

The spinach was perfectly blanched—not too soft.

After finishing an entire roll of kimbap, Seo-jun placed another one on the cutting board. He planned to slice it this time.

Cutting kimbap was a highly technical skill. If too much pressure was applied, the sides would burst open. If too little pressure was used, the fillings would spill out between the slices.

One trick was to heat the knife over a flame. Using moisture was another option, but Seo-jun preferred the heated knife method.

He remembered his mother doing the same. He placed the heated kitchen knife against the kimbap and sliced.

Swish—!

The kimbap was cut beautifully. After slicing the kimbap, Seo-jun placed it on a plate, grabbed a chair, and stepped outside the shop.

The breeze was still blowing gently. It was the kind of wind that naturally lifted one's spirits. The sunlight was warm.

Enjoying the simple joys of nature, he ate the kimbap on his plate.

To an outsider, he might have looked strange—just sitting there, silently eating kimbap.

But that was exactly what he intended. He wanted to focus entirely on the food.

The nuttiness of the seaweed, the sticky texture of the rice, the sweet and sour crunch of the pickled radish, the smoky flavor of the ham, the slight bitterness of the stir-fried carrots, the crispness of the cucumber, the subtle sweetness of the spinach—

He could savor each element, uninterrupted.

The kimbap was gone in an instant. Just as he was considering slicing another roll—

“Hyung.”

It was Lee Yeon-jun.

“Where’s Seo-woo?”

“I put him on the daycare bus. But what are you doing out here?”

“Eating.”

“Where’s the food?”

Seo-jun held up his empty plate.

“Looks like you finished.”

“Yeah, it was good.”

“But why are you eating all alone like some pitiful hermit? You could at least watch TV while you eat.”

“Is it pitiful?”

“Of course. People passing by are probably staring.”

Even after the upheaval, some things remained unchanged.

One of them was society’s view on eating alone.

Yeon-jun glanced at the rice grains and seaweed flakes on the empty plate and guessed what Seo-jun had eaten.

“Kimbap?”

“How’d you know?”

“I used to be a kimbap killer as a kid. This much is easy to guess.”

Seo-jun chuckled.

Yeah, thinking back, Yeon-jun really did love kimbap. Most kids did, but Yeon-jun especially so.

Even the carrots he usually hated—if they were in kimbap, he wouldn’t pick them out.

“If you haven’t eaten, do you want some?”

“Perfect timing. I skipped breakfast because I overslept.”

Seo-jun stepped inside the shop and sliced two rolls of kimbap onto a plate. By the time he returned, Yeon-jun was already seated in front of the TV.

As Seo-jun set the plate down, Yeon-jun suddenly closed his eyes.

“I didn’t look at the kimbap’s fillings.”

“And?”

“I want to guess what’s inside.”

“Confident, huh?”

“Of course. I used to beat you at this all the time when we were kids. You lost so many boxes of Oh Yes snacks to me.”

“It won’t be easy this time.”

“Just watch. I’ll get everything right.”

With his eyes still closed, Yeon-jun reached out, grabbed a piece of kimbap, and popped it into his mouth.

Crunch, crunch—

A grin spread across his lips.

“There’s no way I’d get this wrong.”

“So, what’s inside?”

“Pickled radish, ham, egg strips, spinach, and… cucumber and crab stick. Right?”

“How did you get all of them right?”

“Because it tastes just like Mom’s kimbap. No way I’d miss it.”

“You were really young back then. You still remember?”

“Not consciously. But my taste buds remember.”

“That’s a talent in itself.”

“Man, it’s been so long since I had this taste.”

“Grandma used to make it like this too, right?”

“Grandma used perilla leaves instead of spinach.”

“Not spinach?”

“Yeah. I remember everything.”

Well… Yeon-jun had eaten more of Grandma’s kimbap than he had.

“How does this compare to Grandma’s?”

“I feel bad saying this, but this is way better. Probably because it’s Mom’s recipe.”

Objectively, Grandma’s kimbap might have tasted better.

But taste was often influenced by emotions. Nostalgia could enhance flavors.

Seo-jun briefly wondered if that was the case for Yeon-jun.

After all, he had been very young to remember their mother’s kimbap clearly.

Just as Yeon-jun was finishing his plate, a truck pulled up in front of the shop, and a man with a towel draped around his neck walked in.

It was Ki Seok-tae.

“What’s this? Both of you are at the shop so early today?”

“Yeah, it just happened.”

“Ah, right! As I mentioned in the message before…”

Seok-tae hesitated, glancing at the two of them.

Noticing this, Yeon-jun grinned.

“It’s not your fault that the supply costs went up.”

Looking relieved, Seok-tae scratched his head.

“I’ll go ahead and unload everything into the storage, then.”

“Mr. Ki, have you eaten?”

“Huh? Breakfast?”

“You skipped it again, didn’t you?”

“No, I actually ate this time…”

Growl—!

Seo-jun chuckled softly.

“Skipping breakfast can become a bad habit. They say it’ll catch up to you when you’re older. We just made some kimbap—why don’t you have some before you go?”

Seok-tae looked hesitant, but he didn’t refuse outright. Truthfully, he was curious about the kimbap Seo-jun had made.

When Seo-jun quickly returned from the kitchen with a plate of kimbap, Seok-tae let out a small exclamation.

“Oh, there’s spinach in it?”

“Yeah. Do you not like spinach?”

“Not at all. My mother used to put spinach in her kimbap too. This brings back memories.”

“I see…”

“Well then, I’ll gratefully accept!”

Chewing on the kimbap in his mouth, Ki Seok-tae widened his eyes.

“It's delicious!”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. What ingredients did you use? I’d like to make it for my son’s picnic later.”

As Seo-jun listed the ingredients, Ki Seok-tae nodded.

“Ah, imitation crab is in there. My mother never used that, so I didn’t realize.”

“How did she make it?”

“Pickled radish, spinach, cucumber… what else? Oh! Carrots and ham.”

“So, it's just missing imitation crab.”

“Did you make it just like that?”

“Yes.”

“Just missing one ingredient, but it makes such a difference in taste.”

Ki Seok-tae even took notes on his phone, saying he would definitely try making it later.

“Thanks for the meal today as well!”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

After exchanging farewells, Ki Seok-tae climbed into his truck.

Vroom!

As they silently watched the truck pull away, Yeon-jun suddenly spoke.

“Ki Seok-tae mentioned that one ingredient was missing.”

“Huh? Yeah.”

“That reminded me of something.”

“What?”

“Was it when I was fourteen? Or fifteen? No… yeah, it was when I was fourteen. Back when Grandma was in the hospital.”

“Right.”

“There was a school picnic. But I just couldn’t bring myself to tell Grandma or you about it.”

Seo-jun looked at him, surprised. Yeon-jun gave a small, bitter smile.

“I could’ve just bought something from a snack shop, but even that 2,000 won felt like too much. With all the money going into Grandma’s hospital bills and medicine…”

“Still, if you’d asked, I would’ve given you 2,000 won…”

“Yeah, I know. But it just felt wasteful. And… I guess it was a pride thing.”

“Why would that hurt your pride?”

“All the other kids were bringing homemade kimbap from their moms, but I would’ve been the only one with store-bought kimbap in a styrofoam container. That just… stung a little when I was a kid.”

Seo-jun had never known about this. He suddenly felt guilty.

And realistically, this probably wasn’t the only time something like this had happened.

There must have been many stories like this tied to money that Yeon-jun had kept to himself.

We had it rough…

With a quiet sigh, Seo-jun asked, “So what did you do about the picnic?”

“I just went.”

“What about food?”

“Hey, do you remember Hyun-soo?”

“Hyun-soo… Oh, that short kid with the wart on his right ear?”

“Yeah. I was just sitting there awkwardly during lunch when he suddenly came over and said he couldn’t finish his food alone and asked me to eat with him. It wasn’t even that much food. He was just saying it that way to consider my pride. Man, that meant so much to me back then…”

“If I’d known about this back when Hyun-soo visited our house, I would’ve given him some pocket money or something. Do you still keep in touch with him?”

Yeon-jun’s face darkened as he shook his head.

“We kept in touch at least once every holiday until about three years ago. Then, suddenly, he stopped answering. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead.”

“They say no news is good news. He’s probably doing fine.”

But Yeon-jun’s expression grew even darker.

Hyun-soo had been a Porter. And Porters had one of the lowest survival rates among all professions.

Statistically, their survival rate was even lower than that of Awakened individuals.

And if a high-risk Porter like Hyun-soo had suddenly gone silent…

Yeon-jun shook off the ominous thought.

“Yeah, no news is good news. Like you said, he’s probably doing fine somewhere.”

“Of course.”

That was when they heard another voice.

“It would be nice if no news really meant good news…”

It was Park Yeon, looking disheveled as if he had just woken up.

“You’re awake?”

“If no news really meant good news… then that would mean… she’s doing fine too.”

Of course, with another man…

Sigh.

No, that was fine. As long as she was safe somewhere… What did it matter if she was with another man?

Please, live well, True Goddess…

Letting out a deep sigh, Park Yeon stepped out of his room and pointed at the kimbap.

“I heard a racket this morning, and now I see something strange. What is this?”

“Mr. Park Yeon, have you never seen kimbap before?”

“Kim… bap?”

“Yes.”

“This is my first time seeing it.”

At that, Yeon-jun let out an exaggerated sigh. Who in the world didn’t recognize kimbap?

Even foreigners knew about kimbap these days. And yet, Park Yeon, a drama fanatic, didn’t?

That didn’t make sense. This must have been some kind of symbolic statement.

Maybe Park Yeon also had a rough childhood…

Thinking this, Yeon-jun smiled brightly and said, “Try some! My brother made it, and it’s really good.”

“It doesn’t look very appetizing. It’s all black and dull…”

Looks like he has some deep-seated issues with kimbap…

His aversion to kimbap must have stemmed from some past trauma.

Looking at Park Yeon’s expression, Yeon-jun was convinced.

He was staring at the kimbap like it was something disgusting.

Maybe as a child, he had a bad experience with kimbap—perhaps he was teased for not bringing any on a picnic, or maybe he never got to eat homemade kimbap at all…

And if that were the case, Yeon-jun truly hoped that Park Yeon would overcome that trauma.

“It may not look great, but it’s really tasty.”

“Is there poison in it?”

“Hahaha! You’re joking, right?”

Glancing sideways, Park Yeon muttered, “It just… seems like there might be.”

“No way. Look, I’m eating it just fine.”

Seeing Yeon-jun munching happily, Park Yeon hesitated before picking up a piece and putting it into his mouth.

And then, his eyes widened.

It’s delicious!