Chapter 24: Café‑Style Ran (1)
The Dragon Pearl that had been abandoned for ascension was purely a choice based on my gut feeling.
It was ant as the best way to place a soul into Ria’s body without harming anyone.
Even after the National Intelligence Service confird the strange phenona following the Dragon–Rising within just a year, I acted with extre caution.
But affairs of the world rarely go as planned.
Though I had considered the worst‑case scenario, sothing appeared before far beyond the worst.
“Elder, who is this person?”
“Hey kid, it’s been a while—did your tongue get stuck before a greeting? Who is it? It’s the Dragon Pearl.”
No matter how you looked at it, it couldn’t be the Dragon Pearl. In fact, it wasn’t an object at all.
Its face was badly smashed and swollen, its clothes almost rags, but it clearly had a humanoid form (?).
My head throbbed.
“Elder. In this day and age, are you kidnapping people—no, yokai—by beating them up?”
“Well, I told you it wasn’t! If I’d dragged it forcibly, I’d at least have chained it up!”
“Fox‑Grandfather!”
“Oh dear, fine. After a long ti I co by, and instead of a scolding from , Ria, you are far nicer.”
Thanks to Ria who instantly held it in her arms, further interrogation beca difficult.
“Since it’s cold out, please co inside. You’ll need clothes to change into, too.”
“Thank… you.”
The young man didn’t even nod once; he snatched the clothes and stord into the bathroom.
The hostility was blatant.
Even without being told what happened in the anti, I could sense it.
Once the young man was sent to the bathroom, I hurriedly called Elder over to sit down.
“You clearly said you would calm it by talking, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“And what is that state?”
“Talking wouldn’t work in this case. Didn’t you see it yourself? It’s completely shaless—tch! Even though it’s much younger, it shows no respect for seniors.”
“Do you expect to be treated like an adult after beating it like that? Ugh, I should have sent San‑yi instead.”
In fact, Elder beating the Imoogi was within the range I had expected.
He dislikes beating around the bush, so if words don’t work, I guessed force might co into play.
If the result was that long‑desired ascension, then getting hit a few tis wouldn't have mattered—but that was the mistake.
To think the very one he turned to pulp would be brought here personally!
This was far beyond even my worst‑case scenario.
“Stopping our talk and going sowhere?”
“It’s dinner ti. What happened has happened, and we still need to eat.”
“I’ll help!”
“No, it’s dangerous—Ria, stay seated.”
And the cooking from now on shouldn’t have too many hands.
It needed to be cooked strictly according to the recipe.
I finally opened the recipe notebook on the shelf.
‘Ran
Use one pot of water, high heat until roaring
Noodles powder egg (crack yolk) a pinch of seasoning, 5 minutes
Scallions onion carrot, 2 minutes’
This was the so‑called café ran.
I only learned that ran was served at this café after I took it over.
I was curious why, in a kitchen without an espresso machine, there were three large burners like in a proper restaurant—but it was for this ran.
The boiling thod differed from typical ran.
Though international standard is 4 minutes in boiling water, this recipe used a long cooking ti of nearly 7 minutes.
Furthermore, the pot for boiling ran could barely fit four at once.
If you boiled it strictly by recipe, it would definitely turn to mush.
But that was okay. Café ran was ant to be like that.
And of all the dishes made from the recipes in this notebook, not a single one had ever tasted bad.
There were four diners, and enough burners, too.
– tat‑tat‑tak. hiss‑whoosh.
I lit the burners with the gas igniter and put the pots on them one by one.
Once again, a humble and cozy dish was being made in this worn kitchen.
While Jinseong entered the kitchen, Yong‑man, who had changed clothes upstairs, ca down.
“You’re here? You finally look human. Sit here.”
Gumiho awkwardly called Yong‑man, who had been standing stiffly, and had him sit beside her.
“I’m going to make dinner—wait a bit. I’m going out for a smoke. In this darn country, you can't even properly smoke at a teahouse. Ugh, tch.”
Only after Gumiho grabbed her long smoking pipe and stepped outside did Yong‑man finally relax his stiff tension.
‘Damn, I really just should have run away. I got caught up for nothing.’
“Uncle, what’s that?”
“Whoa! Since when were you there?”
Yong‑man, who had turned on his phone and logged into a ga, jumped at Ria’s question from beside him, looking at her phone screen.
“The Path... of the Hero? The Path of the Hero! Right?”
“Do you know this ga?”
“No. I’ve never seen it before.”
“What? Then why were you so happy about it?”
“I just read it, hehe.”
‘What a frivolous kid.’
Still, thinking she might know the Path of the Hero, Yong‑man, whose eyes had flashed for a mont, refocused on the phone screen.
But the child who discovered a new toy (?) was not soone to be dismissed so easily.
“Wow! The wings are golden!”
“……”
(clatter‑rustle‑rustle.)
“The sword even glows gold!”
“This is only obtainable from ancient dungeon raids.”
“Ancient dungeon?”
“Yes.”
“Where is the ancient dungeon?”
“It’s a dungeon you can only access after maxing level and transcending.”
Maybe because soone finally asked him about the ga he plays, Yong‑man, who had been consistently dismissive, began to answer more frequently.
Ria, who had never played the ga, didn’t understand any of the terminology—but she was so excited her voice got louder and faster.
“The Path of the Hero is different from other mobile gas. The freedom is huge, and you only need to spend money on mounts or pets.”
“Huh? San‑yi has one too!”
“Huh? That’s a basic pet. Poor performance, and you can’t even ride it.”
“I want to see it!”
“Ugh, wait. To bring it up I have to go back to town again.”
“Is the village far?”
“You’ll get there quickly if you take the rare‑stone teleport.”
A massive monster‑infested dungeon instantly transford into a peaceful village with a single touch.
“Here, this is it.”
Yong‑man handed his phone, showing the pet that wandered at the character’s feet enlarged so Ria could see clearly.
“It looks exactly like Sanyi!”
“Who’s Sanyi?”
“She’s a friend! I only have one friend—Sanyi.”
Strictly speaking, the pet on the screen wasn't even the raccoon dog you’d call Sanyi.
It was a Jindo dog with a slightly thick tail.
Because it’s such an old ga and Yong‑man’s phone barely runs it, the species line was blurred and misidentified as a raccoon dog.
“Can I show it to Uncle?”
“Huh? Uh‑huh.”
“Uncle! Sanyi is inside the phone!”
Because he had reluctantly permitted it, Ria grabbed the phone and walked briskly into the kitchen.
Left alone, Yong‑man finally got a chance to look around the café.
‘Even if he’s in his late twenties at most, why does this café look so worn? Did he inherit it?’
At best, the most recent item was this year’s calendar.
No matter how much I looked around, I only saw furniture polished with greasy fingerprints and fragile radios or ornants that looked like they’d break with a touch.
My indifferent gaze swept here and there until stopping at the giant doghouse outside the window.
“Sanyi” was scribbled awkwardly on the doghouse. It looked like a child wrote it.
But no one was in the doghouse.
‘So they used to raise a dog.’
Only then did Yong‑man realize why Ria had been so happy when she saw the Jindo dog pet.
Because a dog’s lifespan can’t compare to a human’s.
She had t it with joyous surprise rather than sorrow — clearly she didn’t know death, and probably thought the dog had just gone far away for a while.
– clatter‑rattle.
While collecting sympathy, Jinseong appeared pushing an old movable shelf with Ria.
“Where did Elder go?”
“Sorry? Ah! Uh, went out… for a smoke…”
“Elder! Dinner’s ready! Co in quickly!”
Hearing Jinseong’s shout, Gumiho’s fox form vanished for a mont and reappeared inside the café.
“Aiy! You’re sending dust flying onto the food. How many tis must I tell you – no magic inside the café! Last ti you didn’t even clean a single fallen leaf and piled them in a corner, and the director and I had a hard ti.”
“I must have committed a sin, you rascal. You sure love nagging.”
Their bickering exchanged as bowls of appetizing ran were placed one per person at the table.
“I hurriedly prepared this, so there’s not much. I don’t know if it’ll suit your taste.”
“No, thank you. I’ll eat well.”
‘I expected so fancy dish or sothing.’
It was just ran.
Served in stainless bowls with generous cold rice and kimchi on a tray — plain ran.
Worse yet, maybe because of poor timing, the noodles looked obviously swollen and overcooked.
For Yong‑man, who called himself a ran pro despite a shabby company job, the visual was nothing but la.
‘Well, out of courtesy I should taste it.’
– slurp‑slurp.
‘…Huh? What kind of flavor is this?’
“Aha, looks like it suits your taste. Strangely, everything that brat cooks sohow ends up edible.”
“Right! Sanyi has to eat too!”
“Huh? How does Sanyi eat?”
“Like this!”
Ria placed her ran into a dish in front of the enlarged pet on Yong‑man’s phone.
“This way Sanyi can eat too.”
“Oh, really? You’re doing that?”
At the oddly arranged table, where both a al and ancestral offerings were laid, only slurping sounds could be heard for a while in the silence.
‘I should have gone with mild flavor.’
anwhile, Jinseong quickly noticed Yong‑man’s eyes gradually watering as he glanced at Ria occasionally, but shrugged it off thinking he just couldn’t handle spicy food well.
“You’ll age ten years just going to the Blue House and back. Ugh, my throat’s burning.”
“Thank you for your work, Director.”
“Oh, and Deputy Chief Choi, good job as well.”
Back in his office, Director Oh Tae‑soo of the NIS plopped into the sofa and loosened his tightening necktie.
“How was it? Think it went smoothly?”
“Yes. He was a bit surprised, but he didn’t say much, did he?”
“Exactly. Anyway, that’s one worry off our shoulders.”
Anyway, what he knew was more or less the sa as what the approval docunt stated. If they’d questioned too deeply, it would’ve been a disaster.
But fortunately, such mishaps didn’t occur.
“Now that one big issue’s sorted, why don’t you hit the field this weekend?”
“Right. I barely managed to cut in a mber subscription while keeping an eye on my wife. If I let it waste, what’s the point? Haha.”
At Choi’s ingratiating suggestion, Oh Tae‑soo grabbed a golf club stored beside the sofa and stood in front of the putting mat.
“As you age, this just doesn’t suit you anymore. They tell you to relax your whole body—but that’s easier said than done.”
Just as he was about to set his posture and swing:
– eeeeep…
Deputy Chief Choi’s phone buzzed.
“Take it here. Why fuss over formality?”
“Thank you.”
As Choi fumbled to leave with the ringing phone, Oh Tao‑soo called him to a halt.
“Hello? Oh, Director Baek. What’s the matter? What did you say?”
“What’s happening?”
Oh Tae‑soo pressed Deputy Chief Choi, whose mouth was flapping like a fish, to relay the call.
“It’s, uh, Director… uh, sir, they said another yokai just arrived at that café. This ti it’s Imoogi!”
Director Oh Tae‑soo dropped the golf club as shock drained his strength.
– tap. roll‑roll.
At that mont, the ball finally rolled into the hole — the first ti it had gone in in a long while.
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