Chapter 18
The final course went out, and the banquet drew to a close.
The response was enthusiastic.
The hall manager came and went between the dining room and the kitchen, flushed with excitement as he relayed the guests' reactions.
And that wasn't all.
“That was truly outstanding. We have to hold next month's executive meeting here, no matter what.”
“Director Yoon really knows how to pick people. Easily the best banquet I've had in a while.”
The VIPs leaving their seats passed by, hurling compliments directly toward the kitchen.
“Thank you for your hard work, Chef! It was seriously delicious. I'll come again next time!”
One young third-generation chaebol heiress even came all the way up to the open kitchen, greeting her with sparkling eyes before leaving.
“……Thank you. Please get home safely.”
Hye-yoon bowed deeply.
And with that, the last guest left.
“Good work!”
The staff's greetings rang out through the hall.
“…….”
Hye-yoon stood at the pass, looking out at the slowly emptying hall.
The compliments from just moments ago were still buzzing in her ears.
She'd clearly heard every one of them.
And yet, for some reason, it didn't feel real.
“…….”
The sensation of cutting with that knife still lingered in her hands.
Today, she hadn't made a single mistake.
Her wrist was fine as if it were a lie, and the blade moved exactly as she willed it.
That hateful trembling, that misalignment—neither had appeared even once.
In her entire life, the knife had never felt so perfectly in her hand.
“……Is it really over?”
The words slipped out as a murmur.
The tension still hadn't left her.
Even though everything was over, the strain in her shoulders wouldn't ease.
The sounds of staff cleaning up one by one. The clink of dishes. And footsteps growing more distant.
Hye-yoon stood there motionless.
*
“Chef Kim, you're still here?”
When she turned around, it was Director Yoon.
She must've just finished seeing the guests out and finally had a moment to spare.
“Ah... yes. I was going to clean up a bit before leaving.”
“You did really well today.”
Director Yoon came closer with a faint smile.
“Honestly, I was surprised too. Today... was the best your food has ever been, wasn't it?”
“……Not at all. You're too kind.”
Hye-yoon bowed her head awkwardly.
Then, before she knew it, her mouth moved.
“……I'm sorry, Director.”
“Hm?”
“Lately... I've been making a lot of mistakes. And last time I even collapsed like that. With the event coming up, I feel like I've only caused you trouble...”
Her voice trailed off.
Hye-yoon wasn't ignorant of what everyone had been saying.
The young head chef finally collapsed right before an important event.
That's what happens when you put an untested kid in that position.
Her limits finally caught up with her.
It wasn't skill. They just brought her in as... a symbol.
Those words had been scratching at a corner of her heart the entire time.
“……You don't mean to say.”
Director Yoon let out a snort of laughter.
“You believe that rumor too?”
“……What?”
“I mean the rumor that I brought you here just to make a show of things, to use some kid as a sacrificial example. That rumor.”
Hye-yoon's shoulders jerked.
It felt like she'd been caught.
“Haha... well...”
“What do you take me for.”
Director Yoon shook her head lightly.
“I'm not that idle.”
She folded her arms and looked straight at Hye-yoon.
“Le Ciel. Do you remember the day I first tasted your food there?”
“……Yes.”
“I fell in love with your cooking back then. That's why I brought you here. There was no other reason.”
Director Yoon shrugged.
“Well, honestly, even I didn't expect the backlash to be this severe.”
She gave the empty hall, and then the open kitchen, a quick look around.
“But seeing today, I'm glad I brought you on.”
“…….”
“My eye for people is definitely sharp.”
Director Yoon gave a little laugh and turned away.
“Good work. Get some rest.”
Click, clack.
Her heels receded into the distance.
Hye-yoon stared blankly at her back.
And then.
The lights in the hall snapped off.
*
The kitchen was dark.
She was alone.
“…….”
Plop.
Something hot rolled down her cheek.
“……Huh?”
She hurriedly wiped it away with the back of her hand.
But.
Drip.
“……Huh?”
Once the dam burst, it wouldn't stop easily.
Hic...
She clapped a hand over her mouth.
She couldn't make a sound. No one could hear her.
And yet, her shoulders shook of their own accord.
She'd come this far by sheer stubbornness.
Truly, by sheer stubbornness.
—Asian. Female. And the youngest, too.
In that unfamiliar kitchen abroad, the thing they called her wasn't her name.
The day she first stood on the line, the chef beside her snorted.
What could she possibly do with those wrists?
He said with certainty she'd be crying and packing her bags within a week.
He said it loud enough for her to hear.
He wouldn't even return her greetings. Open contempt. Mockery.
So she didn't cry.
Even when her wrists gave out, even when burns blistered her skin.
She clenched her teeth and came in an hour earlier than everyone else to prep.
She turned on the lights first and turned them off last.
She endured like that for days. Weeks. Months.
At some point, the name they called her changed.
They said she was a hard case.
Yeah. That was better, at least.
Better to be called a vicious bitch than to be ignored.
And she proved it.
Every one of the tags that had followed her instead of her name.
She crushed them one by one with her skill.
Until she finally reached the coveted position of youngest sous-chef at that notoriously tough Michelin restaurant.
Yes. Hard work doesn't betray you.
She believed that. She had to believe it.
Because that was the only weapon she had.
But.
Even after returning to Korea, nothing changed.
Because she was a woman. Because she was young. Because she was a parachute hire.
A scarecrow set up by the director as a warning.
A kid who'd landed the job through luck, without any talent.
Muted whispers trailed after her back.
The more that happened, the tighter she held on.
Like before.
She came in earlier and stayed later.
That would do.
More. More, and more.
Then she could prove herself again.
Because that's how it had always been.
Effort.
It had never betrayed her once.
…And yet.
This time, it was different.
The nightmares started.
Every night she was plagued by sleep paralysis, and every dawn she woke drenched in cold sweat.
Lack of sleep made her head throb as if it would split open.
Even as her body screamed in protest, she didn't stop.
As always, she came in earlier and stayed later.
She couldn't rest. If she stopped, she'd fall behind again.
…The price of pushing herself that hard was brutal.
Her overworked wrists finally started screaming.
Her knife work went off. The seasoning went wrong.
She had spent her whole life proving herself with these two hands.
Those hands had started to tremble.
“…….”
That was what scared her most.
More than being ignored. More than being dragged down.
That her own hand no longer listened to her.
The one weapon she had to prove herself with, everything she'd built over all those years.
…Was instead gnawing away at her.
That effort, which had never betrayed her once.
For the first time, it was stabbing her in the back.
She couldn't tell anyone.
Because the moment she said it, it felt like everything would end.
So she only blamed herself.
For foolishly overworking her wrists.
For being so weak-minded that she was having nightmares.
For not being able to grit her teeth and endure even harder.
Even though she'd spent her whole life enduring like that.
Why now, of all times.
……So, in truth.
She had actually been planning to give it all up.
She'd planned to put the knife down once this event was over.
Because she thought she had truly reached her limit.
A life built on proving herself through effort.
And now she couldn't do that effort anymore.
“으흐흑……. 흑…….”
But.
Today.
The countless suspicious gazes that had been pointed at her.
The cold stares that had followed her like tags.
Today, at her fingertips.
Had turned into awe. Into ecstasy.
Changed.
In a place where Korea's wealth and power gathered in one spot.
Her knife, her cooking, had been recognized.
It felt as if all the effort she'd put in had finally been acknowledged.
It hadn't been a waste of effort.
She'd done well. She'd held on well.
“흐윽…… 으흐흑…….”
Clutching the cold countertop.
Hye-yoon cried like that for a long time.
***
She changed clothes and packed her things.
Today, she wanted to thank that person no matter what.
To that artisan who had put this miraculous kitchen knife into my hands.
She hugged the bag with the knife tucked inside to her chest.
Its weight felt more precious than ever today.
That was when she was heading toward the emergency stairs to go home.
“……씨발! 그 부적만 붙여두면 다 끝난다며!”
Someone on the other side of the stairwell door was on the phone, voice seething with rage.
Hye-yoon's steps came to an abrupt stop.
“이게 어떻게 된 거야! 다 끝나버렸잖아! 오늘 그년이 사람들 앞에서 개망신당할 거라고 분명히 말했잖아!”
It was a familiar voice.
The only person in the kitchen she'd trusted, the one who always smiled warmly.
It was Sous Chef Kang Mirae.
“아, 진짜 미치겠네! 나도 하려고 했다니까! 바트에 숨겨서 들어가려는데, 씨발…… 갑자기 웬 까만 마스크 쓴 놈이랑 부딪혔는데, 부적이 그냥 타서 없어져 버렸다고!”
“…….”
No way.
What did I just hear...?
Hye-yoon froze behind the wall, not even daring to breathe.
A talisman? That bitch? A guy in a black mask?
Her mind tangled into utter chaos.
Only after the sound of the call faded and the emergency exit door shut did she move.
Hye-yoon dragged her trembling legs and stepped out of the hotel.
Cold night air brushed her cheeks.
And yet her mind didn't cool down; if anything, it grew even more feverish and dizzy.
'It definitely sounded like Mirae was talking about me.'
'That bitch was going to be humiliated in front of everyone.' 'If you just stick the talisman there, it's all over.'
'...No way. That's impossible.'
It made no sense.
She must have heard wrong.
Talisman. Curse.
Those weren't words that existed in the world she'd lived in.
She'd lived her whole life believing only what she could see.
So it was nonsense. It had to be.
…But then.
The strange people who had been coming and going from the kitchen came to mind.
The mysterious shamans Director Yoon had brought in.
The acrid smell of incense. The grotesque scraps of paper stuck everywhere.
And.
[Yeah! The one we stuck on that vent at the beginning worked perfectly, didn't it!]
“……Vent.”
Hye-yoon found herself mulling over that word without meaning to.
Vent. A vent.
That word she kept turning over absentmindedly wouldn't leave her alone, strangely enough.
Something just out of reach kept pricking at her mind.
…Come to think of it.
On the day she collapsed.
That teacher had seemed to do something toward the ceiling, hadn't he?
“…….”
It was right there, and yet not quite.
The hazy memory kept slipping through her fingers.
Bwaaaang—!
“……앗!”
Just as she was about to cross the crosswalk, Hye-yoon jerked back at the horn blaring right in front of her.
Thud.
Her shoulder bag slipped off, and the knife bag inside slid across the asphalt.
Swish.
The leather case parted slightly, and the blade inside flashed in the streetlight.
“…….”
The person who had given her this knife.
The craftsman whose face had been hidden behind a mask.
…A black mask.
Just now on the phone, Kang Mirae had definitely said that.
That she'd bumped into someone wearing a black mask, and the talisman had burned up and disappeared.
That black mask.
The hazy memory from that day sharpened as if it were a lie.
Yes. It was him.
The masked teacher who had come to make the knife.
He had taken a blank sheet of paper from his pocket, scribbled something on it.
And thrown it toward the ceiling vent.
And then she had lost consciousness just like that.
…No way. Seriously?
It had been ever since then.
Ever since that day the artisan had thrown the talisman and she had collapsed.
When she opened her eyes, the nightmares that had tormented her were gone.
The pain in her wrists, which had ached as if they might snap, had vanished completely.
And everything else had unraveled like a lie.
“…….”
Did such things really exist?
Talismans, curses, that kind of nonsense?
Then...
Wasn't I the one who collapsed because I was mentally weak and overworked...?
Her thinning face, the terrible nightmares, the wrist pain that wouldn't stop.
So it was someone's malice, not my limit?
Ugh...
Her stomach lurched.
A vicious wave of nausea surged up, as if bile were rising.
The only person in this kitchen she had believed was on her side.
That Kang Mirae, who had smiled warmly, worried about her, and massaged her knotted shoulders.
Had actually been gnawing away at her from behind.
The awful betrayal left her gasping for breath.
She felt like she might crumple to the pavement and throw up right there.
But.
At the end of that terrible betrayal and nausea.
Hye-yoon's gaze fell on the kitchen knife lying on the ground.
As if possessed, she bent down and picked up the knife bag.
The cold touch at her fingertips dragged her, barely, back to reality from her maddened state.
'Then the fact that I got better...'
Was it really all thanks to that person?
Did that craftsman in the black mask remove the curse that had been crushing me?
And even today, the one who stopped the horrible thing Kang Mirae had tried to do a second time...
She still couldn't believe in curses or talismans.
But this knife, at least, left no room for doubt.
Because she'd felt it directly with both hands today.
The exquisite feel of it, as if the knife were alive and breathing, supporting her wrists in her stead.
This unreal knife was proof that he had been there.
'...No way.'
The blue stone set into the end of the handle shone brilliantly.
'...Really?'
He had saved her when she was standing on the edge of a cliff.
The person who had placed this miraculous knife in her hands and lifted her beyond her prime.
A savior who had appeared in an instant in her gray world.
A strange flush rose over her colorless cheeks.
The heart that had been raging with betrayal.
Started pounding wildly in a completely different direction.
Her hand tightened around the knife's hilt.
As if she would never let it go.
'I have to see him again tomorrow...'
No, not just tomorrow.
Once she'd tasted this miraculous sensation.
She felt like she could never cook with any knife other than one made by this man.
“…….”
Hye-yoon stood alone beneath the streetlight, and her eyes.
Shone with an intensity she'd never had before.
***
Vroooom—
With a smooth engine hum, Ji-an's bright red sports car glided through the jammed streets of Gangnam.
I leaned back into the deep softness of the premium leather seat and glanced at the thick envelope beside me.
Inside was a bundle of checks Director Yoon had handed over.
At a glance, it looked like more than ten times the amount I'd agreed to receive.
Well... I did exorcise those spirits.
I had expected to get a little more than the five million won for the knife, but this felt a bit excessive.
……Come to think of it.
It wasn't just the money that was excessive today.
Staring blankly out the window, I recalled what had happened before I left the hotel this morning.
[Teacher...! Sob, sniff... thank you, thank you so much!]
As soon as I got to work, Head Chef Kim Hye-yoon came looking for me, bowed ninety degrees before me, and burst into tears.
[If it weren't for you, Teacher, I don't know how I can ever repay this kindness...!]
I was a little, no, quite a lot, taken aback.
'...Well, my kitchen knife is definitely amazing, but still.'
Did she really need to cry this hard over it?
Besides, I hadn't made it for free, and I'd even gotten a huge extra labor fee from Director Yoon.
The way she stared at me with glittering eyes was so intense it was a little overwhelming.
[Um, Teacher! I really want to thank you personally. If it's not rude, could I get your contact info...!]
Just as the chef hurriedly pulled out her phone to ask for my number.
[Ah! Please contact us through this number~^^]
Seo Ji-an, who had popped up from nowhere, wedged herself between the chef and me and thrust out her business card.
[I take full responsibility for our artisan's schedule and all outside contact! If there are any problems with the knife or you need after-sales service, please don't hesitate—contact me anytime at this number, Chef!]
At Ji-an's beaming ironclad defense, the chef accepted the card with a vaguely disappointed expression.
And beyond Ji-an, a familiar thug-like face approached with a broad grin.
It was Jin Mu-young, the so-called third-rank sorcerer.
He came up beside me and patted my shoulder, acting all chummy.
Then he shot the envelope a sidelong glance and smiled meaningfully.
[You see, I told Director Yoon everything about how amazing the things you exorcised were, hyung. Hehe.]
Ah... so that's why.
Only then did everything make sense.
The chef bawling her eyes out with tears and snot from the morning. Director Yoon giving me checks worth more than ten times the knife's price.
Dealing with the petty spirits in the vent. In truth, it had been no big deal at all, just a matter of one talisman.
This thug had definitely blown it all up to save face for not being able to solve it himself.
'...I thought the reaction was a little over the top. Turns out there was a serious misunderstanding.'
Well, it wasn't a bad thing. Thanks to that, I'd pocketed a fat payment.
I stood there in a daze before being shoved out of the hotel by Ji-an's relentless prodding.
On top of that, according to Director Yoon, that sous chef had been a spy acting under orders from some family called the Hyeonmu Clan.
[We've secured all the evidence of the sous chef receiving orders, as well as the records of the payments she got in return. This morning, we handed everything over to the Sorcery Management Bureau.]
Then the talisman hidden in that vat had been planted on purpose too.
'Huh... seriously.'
Well, isn't it only right that people who do bad things get punished?
*
“Sigh, exactly. There really isn't a single person in the world you can trust.”
Ji-an, who was at the wheel, said with a sigh. She was talking about the sous chef.
“Still, thanks to you, Dohyun-nim, we were able to stop that woman before she could pull anything. You really worked hard.”
“Well, all I did was make a kitchen knife.”
“Oh, there you go again. You're so humble.”
Ji-an smiled at me in the rearview mirror.
“Oh, right! I registered that thing you asked about last time.”
“The thing I asked about?”
“You asked if there was somewhere you could check trends or rumors in the sorcery world.”
Ah, right.
Since I didn't know the scene at all, I'd casually asked whether there was an anonymous community or something like that.
Ji-an took a black tablet out of the passenger-side console box and handed it to me.
“I've installed the app, so would you like to take a look? Security is very tight, so I set it to open only with biometric authentication.”
When I turned on the tablet screen, a lock screen with a bizarre pattern appeared.
After I placed my fingerprint on the screen and looked into the camera, the app opened against a black background with the words ‘Authentication complete.’
[Dokkaebi Fire - Anonymous Sorcerer Gallery]
Oh. So something like this really exists.
It looked like the site Ji-an had shown me at the cafe last time.
So this place was called Dokkaebi Fire.
At the top of the screen, there was also a tab labeled [Dokkaebi Fire Market].
Hmm, I guess the one she showed me last time was that one.
With half curiosity and half anticipation, I browsed the real-time best board.
But then.
[HOT] TK Group hotel incident, so who ended up handling it??
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[HOT] Hey, has the Dokkaebi Market bomber still not been caught?
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[News] [Exclusive / Gimun Ilbo] Who is the Tianshan Sect artisan who saved TK Group?
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“……어?”
My finger, which had been scrolling downward, hesitated.
Blowing, I looked back at the screen.
TK Group? Dokkaebi Market bombing? Tianshan Sect?
……What is all this?