Inglen kept the book aside on his mattress, then he let out a sigh.
Inglen: I've finally finished understanding this world; it's like somebody tried to create a
perfect fantasy world but failed at it.
Inglen stands up and stretches a bit and moves towards the window and watches over the street and other houses, all of which were unique and beautiful, unlike the blobs of cubical apartments he remembers from his memories. Inglen was admiring the world when he heard a bang at his door. At the door stood Cheol Gae and Gao Zhi. It was winter, and Gao was wearing a sweater and gloves, but Cheol just stood there in his usual tank top and a jacket over it and the baggy night pants.
Inglen (thought): I am not even a bit surprised because it's best to just wear a single outfit all year.
Inglen, without a word, closed the door, and they all started walking. They were out of the apartment towards Liescha's shop. The street, as always, wasn't very crowded and was lit with dim street lanterns.
Cheol (thinking): Today it's a treat from Inglen; he just had his payment yesterday. I wonder what he will order. Well, it's good to see that he is now able to at least afford his basic necessities. I...wait, is he...
Cheol sees a man beating a kid. Cheol walks to that direction and confronts the man
Cheol (in a calm voice): What are you trying to do?
The man: What business do you have with me? Don't think that I will be afraid of your looks, you gangster.
Cheol (in a heavy voice): Leave the kid alone; dont bully him
As Cheol was saying this, the man tried to kick Cheol in his leg with a low kick, but the man, thinking that this kick had made various people kneel to him, but Cheol didn't move an inch. The man was surprised, but he didn't have much to think about as a punch hit him as he crashed into a trash bin on the street. The man, realising the kind of monster Cheol is, runs away.
The kid on the floor: thanks#..
Cheol says, Don't mention the kid. Bye.
Cheol hurries back to Gao and Inglen, and they then walk a bit and reach Liecha's shop. The shop was filled with customers as always, and Rumi, her father, and another person who worked in the shop as a waiter were busy serving the customers.
The boys walk to the counter.
Inglen steps forward: "The usual order" , The owner's daughter stops them and suggests, "Cheol, try my new dish; it is reawwly good."
Cheol (sweating): "Ahh, Rumi, let it be. We will try your special dish on a special occasion."
Gao (gulping): "Yes, we should not waste your skills on such a bad day. Do you see that crescent moon? It's a bad sign; we should try it later."
Rumi: "It's special as long as Cheol eats it."
Inglen: "Ok, add that to the list."
Cheol: "But...wai—"
Inglen: "I'm the one paying, and it's just a dish." Both Gao and Cheol, afraid, take a seat at their table; the mood was nervous. Rumi enters the kitchen and starts to cook.
They wait clearly afraid.
Rumi brought the hot pot to the table and set it down with both hands. Steam rose from the dish, carrying a smell that made Cheol shift in his seat. She stepped back and stood straight, her eyes on him.
Inglen reached out, his fingers almost touching the rim of the pot.
Smack!
Rumi slapped his hand without looking at him. "Cheol should try it first," she said.
Gao Zhi giggled and put a hand on Cheol's shoulder. "Good luck."
Cheol stared at the dish, nervous. God of Life, please save me, he thought.
He dipped the spoon into the broth and brought it to his mouth. The smell hit first—strong, strange, sharp. He forced it in. The moment it touched his tongue, everything felt weird. His eyes went hazy, and he saw something float up—his soul. It was actually leaving his body.
Eyes wide, Cheol swallowed quickly, forcing the liquid down and pulling his soul back like grabbing a kite in the wind.
He coughed once, then looked at Rumi.
"You've got a lot of space for improvement," he said. "But this is better than last time."
Rumi crossed her arms. "If you keep acting like this, no girl in this whole world will ever fall for you!"
Cheol blinked. "Wait—why are you getting angry?"
Inglen looked down, realizing his mistake, and gave Gao a sorry look.
"Oops," Inglen whispered.
"Too late now," Gao said with a smirk.
As Cheol and Rumi kept arguing, Inglen and Gao quietly started eating. Bite after bite, they cleaned their plates, fast and silent like trained thieves.
"All I said was it's better than last time! That's a compliment!" Cheol said.
"Then say it like you mean it!" Rumi snapped.
"Alright, alright—wait…" Cheol turned to the pot and looked around.
The plates were empty. Only one small bowl was left in front of him—thick, lumpy, and giving off a strange smell. The cursed dish.
"You guys…" Cheol said.
"Sorry, man," Inglen said, still chewing.
"She said eat fast, so we did," Gao said, sipping his tea.
Cheol stared at the bowl in front of him.
"God of Life, round two."
Cheol: "I can't believe I had to eat that cursed thing again. My stomach's going to be sad for a whole week."
Inglen: "She must really like cooking, huh?"
Cheol: "No. She doesn't do it because she likes it. She does it to carry her mother's dream."
Inglen: "Her mother's?"
Cheol: "Miss Liescha dreamed of winning the Mastercook of the Year competition. She was so sure she'd win one day. But then, one night…she passed away mysteriously. When Mr.Takeshi hurried her over to the monastery docters but it was too late. The doctors from the monastary werent able to identify her cause of death.
Inglen : "I see..."
The three return to thier apartment and go to sleep