“That weird powder you had before—where did you get it?”
“That’s…”
My words trailed off. I’d told him it was something I’d made before losing my memory, but in truth, it had just suddenly been there when I woke up. Unable to make excuses, I just opened and closed my mouth uselessly when Gilbert patted the back of my head and said,
“You never know. If you search the place where you were again, it might show up.”
I didn’t find it—it was just there when I opened my eyes.
“Yeah… I guess.”
In the end, I answered with a sigh and returned to the inn with nothing but more head meat purchased.
Evening business went even better. Customers lined up to receive their ttukbaegi, and before I knew it, they were selling like crazy until even the huge pot was completely empty.
By the time that hectic day was completely over, my entire body felt like it was melting into mush. My arms and legs ached everywhere, and my eyelids, unable to bear their own weight, had half-lowered.
Flopping my body onto the bed, I pulled the blanket up to my chin and muttered weakly,
“…Everything’s good, but I wish I had some chili peppers. If not, I’ll have to make do with herbs or mustard.”
That was the last thing I said. Before my lips could even fully close, I fell into sleep.
***
And when I opened my eyes the next day.
Just like that day when MSG first appeared, once again a large sack was placed before my eyes.
It was full of ripe red chili peppers and fresh green chili peppers, and in another sack placed beside it was even finely ground chili powder.
“Holy shit!”
I grabbed the sack and exhaled roughly. As the familiar spicy scent pierced my nose, tears welled up. I felt dazed by the smell of chili peppers I hadn’t encountered in so long.
No, more than that—why?
What was the reason these things suddenly appeared?
No matter how much I racked my brain, the only common factor was the memory of muttering something before sleeping the night before. Both the MSG and now these chili peppers—they had appeared with a pop before my eyes in the morning after I’d carelessly muttered something the night before.
“…No way.”
Could there be some kind of magic cast on the house itself? Come to think of it, this inn standing on the Boundary Line was unrealistic to begin with. Even though it was old and creaky, it somehow had this strange feeling of having endured for a long time.
Or was it a hidden power in this body I’d possessed? But if that were the case, it should have sent me back already. I’d begged so many times to be sent back to my original world, hadn’t I? And yet, just MSG and chili peppers?
Or, well, maybe there was some kind of cooldown?
The deeper I dug, the more complicated my head became. No answer came, only speculation upon speculation.
Unable to find an answer, I finally shook my head and muttered,
“For now…”
Let’s put the worrying aside. What mattered was the fact that chili peppers were in front of me right now.
Seeing the sun already rising, I immediately hugged the sack and headed to the kitchen. I put the bright red chili powder into a large bowl, then added minced garlic and minced green onions one after another. Then I seasoned it with various spices and mixed it evenly.
As the red chili powder absorbed the moisture from the green onions and garlic, it quickly became moist and a spicy scent pierced my nose. The taste of a hometown I’d long forgotten seemed to brush past my nose.
“Done.”
Now, if I just placed this seasoning paste on top of hot gukbap, the broth in the ttukbaegi would transform into a completely different flavor.
Soon after, I took out the radish I’d pickled earlier and mixed it with the seasoning, completing bright red kkakdugi. It would taste better after aging, but it was good enough to serve right now.
Starting from lunch service that day, I immediately began serving the seasoning paste and kkakdugi.
The eyes of customers who saw the red seasoning on top of their ttukbaegi all wavered in unison. The blood-red color, the intense garlic scent, and the sharp spicy aroma mixed with the hot steam and spread.
“What the hell is this? Did you pour blood in it or something?”
“It’s not poison, is it?”
Frowning, no one readily picked up their spoons. At most, they picked up a piece of kkakdugi with chopsticks, put it down, and just watched each other.
How long did that silence last? Just when everyone was holding a piece of kkakdugi and watching each other, finally one adventurer gritted his teeth as if determined.
And then, crunch.
The sound of biting into the firm radish rang out particularly loud. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to chew and swallow mechanically, but soon his eyes popped open wide enough to bulge out.
“…Kugh!”
His face twisted terribly, perhaps from the spicy taste brushing his tongue. But he didn’t stop his utensils—he immediately stirred the gukbap full of seasoning paste, then scooped up the hot broth.
“Hk…”
After catching his breath for a moment, he soon moved his utensils like crazy.
The other customers flinched in surprise and looked at each other.
“How is it?”
“If it were poison, he’d already be passed out. Look at that expression.”
A grimacing face, temples wet with sweat. And yet the spoon didn’t stop.
“It’s spicy… but why is it so addictive?”
At those words, the other customers also carefully bit into the kkakdugi. In an instant, their faces turned red. At first they trembled, but soon they were dissolving the seasoning paste into their gukbap and gulping it down frantically.
“My tongue feels like it’s burning, but… I can’t stop eating!”
“Kugh, this is crazy. The more I eat, the more refreshed I feel inside?!”
As the hot broth and spicy taste mercilessly scratched the inside of their mouths, pain and pleasure seemed to rush in simultaneously—their faces looked tearful, yet their spooning grew faster and faster.
Standing in the kitchen, I watched the customers sweating profusely while eating gukbap and nodded.
Spicy taste is pain and pleasure. They didn’t know it yet, but right now all their stress was being washed away.
I re-gripped the ladle and grinned wickedly.
“See, this is the true power of a Korean.”
Just then, a customer who was eating while wiping sweat asked,
“Innkeeper, does the food here have some special effect?”
I pondered for a moment, then recited casually,
“…Well, endorphins, dopamine, that sort of thing will come out.”
“Ooh! So it does have a special effect.”
The customers who had initially clicked their tongues asking if it was poison or punishment were now frantically gobbling it up. It was exactly like watching a horde of cats going crazy for churu.
I was watching that scene with satisfaction when—
Ding-a-ling—
As the bell rang, I reflexively smiled brightly and called out,
“Welcome! This is The Inn on the Boundary!”
Soon, a figure wearing a deeply pressed robe crossed the threshold.
Not particularly tall, with a build that seemed to stand at the boundary between boy and man. The hair flowing down from beneath the robe was a golden color as if it held light, and below slightly upturned eye corners, golden eyes that shone deeply like sunlight were revealed.
And I froze in place.
Well, because that person in front of me—he’s one of the hero’s party from the original work, isn’t he?
Though not large in build, a strangely imposing aura tightened the surrounding air. The adventurers flinched and murmured, but he ignored the commotion, quietly sat down, and slowly looked around. Then he finally opened his mouth.
“Give me one menu item.”
“Ah, yes. Please sit here.”
I answered in a daze and guided him to a seat. His golden eyes carefully examined the shabby table, walls, and even the kitchen. Then he uttered meaningfully,
“I heard the Knight Commander is heading straight here as soon as the Empire’s meeting ends. There must be something special here?”
“…”
…Well. MSG? Or the seasoning paste I just made today?
I forced the corners of my mouth up and hid my flustered insides. Because the person sitting in front of me right now was none other than the Empire’s Crown Prince.
The Empire’s Crown Prince, Lionel Edgar Luche Chevalier.
In the original work, he was described like this:
[Golden hair sparkling in the sunlight, and golden eyes shining just as brightly. Lionel Edgar Luche Chevalier was the noble Crown Prince of the Chevalier Empire. Though he had just passed the age of adulthood, in the Empire he was called an unprecedented genius of alchemy. However, despite being in a position where he should look down benevolently upon the people, he always looked down at people with an emotionless gaze. Those eyes, knowing no warmth, refracted and projected the world as if it were mere consumables.
Amelia hadn’t become a saint through great faith either. She was simply someone unwillingly placed in that position thanks to her innate divine power. But even she, when looking at Lionel, always had the same lament flow from her heart.
‘Truly, a boy who doesn’t suit that position.’
Yes, rather than a man, a male who was still more suited to being called a boy.
Amelia always evaluated him as ‘a royal living in the pleasure of his own arrogance.’]
So, to summarize, he was a typical disgusting royal full of privilege consciousness. I glanced at him, then quickly brought out a bowl of gukbap. Steam rose abundantly from the ttukbaegi, and beside it was the bright red seasoning paste I’d put out for the first time today. Lionel looked back and forth between the gukbap and the seasoning paste and asked,
“What’s this?”
“Ah, it’s a seasoning paste I put out for the first time today—should I leave it off? Come to think of it, the Knight Commander hasn’t tried it yet. If you’d like, I’ll bring out something else.”
At those words, Lionel raised his eye corners slightly and let out a scoff. Wait, if it’s this visible, there’s no need to cover his face with a robe, is there? His expression is way too clear.
“No need. I’ll try it.”
Lionel boldly picked up his spoon and scooped up a large spoonful of gukbap. The moment a mouthful of broth mixed with seasoning paste entered his mouth—
