Chapter 99
“How much more of it is prepared in the kitchen right now?”
At the lord’s question, Cook thought for a moment before answering.
“Probably about a basketful.”
“That much? Then that’s over a hundred pieces, isn’t it?”
Donghee asked in surprise, and Cook scratched his head like a child, embarrassed.
“I just kept making them for fun, and before I knew it…”
“Perfect. Bring them all out now, will you? I’ll show everyone just how amazing what you’ve made really is.”
A moment later, Cook came back carrying a basket overflowing with Maijjo. Donghee began calling over the people nearby. When he explained that it was a dessert made from persimmons, the people, half doubtful, accepted the treats. But as soon as they tasted the sweet-and-tangy flavor they’d never experienced before, their eyes went wide. The children especially loved it.
“Wow! This is so good! I’ve never eaten anything this delicious in my life!”
The kids who had taken Maijjo that Donghee put in their mouths clapped their hands in delight.
At first, Cook found it strange that the lord was freely handing out the hard-to-make dessert he had created, but before long he couldn’t stop smiling. There was nothing that gave a cook more pride than watching people enjoy his food.
The hundred or so Maijjo Cook had prepared disappeared in the blink of an eye. Partly because they were being given out for free, but mostly because once people popped one into their mouths, they couldn’t help but marvel at how good it was, and word spread quickly.
With everything gone faster than expected, Donghee returned with Cook and said:
“Seems like everyone liked it, right?”
“Yes. Not a single person disliked it.”
Cook replied, his chest swelling with emotion, his eyes turning red. Until now, he had lived focused only on making dishes for the lord. But seeing so many people enjoy the food he created, he realized anew what true joy as a chef really was.
“I’d like only you, and two assistants, to know the recipe for Maijjo.”
“Yes. In fact, only myself, If, and Chops know the exact method.”
“Ch-… Chops and If?”
Surely it couldn’t be Chopstick and Knife, right?
Donghee clicked his tongue again at the system’s half-hearted naming sense. He figured all the kitchen workers were probably named things like Spoon, Dish, Mug, Salt… and so on.
“Yes, among the kitchen staff, those two are the most clever and quick-handed. I showed them the method once, and afterward they could produce Maijjo very quickly.”
“Alright then. From now on, you three—Cook, If, and Chops—will be responsible for Maijjo production. Since you’re busy as head chef, let those two handle the practical work and you focus on supervising. Later, you three come to my office.”
“Yes, understood.”
Cook answered eagerly, assuming the lord would have further instructions for making Maijjo.
But after finishing dinner preparations and going to the office with his two assistants, what awaited them was nothing like what they had expected.
“Wh-what is this, my lord?”
Cook stared wide-eyed at the paper the lord handed him.
“What do you think? It’s a contract.”
“A… a contract, you say?”
Cook had spent most of his life inside Grace Castle. As the head chef of a poor castle, he earned far less than other head chefs elsewhere, but he had still considered himself successful.
Yet today, the contract the lord gave him contained terms that could completely change his life.
“It’s a contract regarding Maijjo production: responsibilities, compensation, confidentiality clauses. Read it carefully.”
Cook’s hands trembled as he held the contract, overwhelmed, while the lord’s voice remained utterly calm, as if it were nothing unusual.
“But we already receive wages from you, my lord.”
Cook, dazed, raised his head, his voice half absent.
According to the contract, by becoming the dedicated Maijjo production team, they would receive an additional wage on top of their regular salaries. The extra pay was equal to Cook’s head chef salary—meaning he would be paid double. And that wasn’t all.
If Maijjo production increased the territory’s profits, Cook and his assistants would also receive a share. Cook had never seen or even heard of such a contract.
While Cook’s heart pounded furiously, the lord remained calm, as if asking about tomorrow’s breakfast menu.
“The workshop for Maijjo will be set up by converting the empty warehouse next to the kitchen. Discuss whatever equipment or tools you need directly with the treasurer.”
“But… this is far too much money.”
Cook was thrilled at the thought of his wife fainting when she heard, but also terrified by such incredible compensation.
“That amount includes the confidentiality clause. No one but you three can know the method. That’s the condition for receiving it.”
“But isn’t this recipe something you taught us, my lord?”
Cook still couldn’t believe he deserved so much. All he’d done was follow the lord’s instructions written on a sheet of paper and make it repeatedly until it came out right.
“I only provided the rough idea. You were the one who discovered the exact recipe. That makes you worthy of this treatment. So no more protests—get it done.”
Though it sounded like scolding, the words were recognition of Cook’s effort and talent. His eyes welled up.
“My lord…”
Ever since childhood, his dream had been to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a chef. He had achieved it, made the Grace Castle kitchen his domain, and though the resources were limited, he had been free to cook as he pleased.
Every time one of his dishes was served proudly on a silver plate, he felt as if he himself had become as precious as the food he’d created.
But now, his lord was treating him as truly precious—with generous rewards to prove it.
Cook’s two assistants, still in disbelief, kept rereading the contract, while Cook himself wiped tears again and again with his sleeve. The sight made their own noses sting.
“I’ll be working you far harder than what you’re being paid, so don’t get too sentimental. It makes me feel guilty. Go see the treasurer now. I already spoke with him, so you can start the workshop renovations right away. Get Builder to assign you the right workers. Understood?”
“Sniff… Yes, my lord. I will give it everything I have.”
Cook wiped his tears with his sleeve like a child and answered.
“Thank you, my lord.”
Cook and the two assistants signed the contract and left the office, feeling as though they had been reborn. Just imagining what lay ahead of them felt like flying.
Back in his room, Donghee collapsed onto the bed, overwhelmed by sudden fatigue. The moment his body touched the mattress, exhaustion washed over him.
“Shall I bring you some hot tea?”
Delma, who had followed him in, asked worriedly upon seeing the lord’s pale face.
“No, it’s fine. I think I’m just tired. I’ll close my eyes for a bit.”
“Then I’ll draw the curtains so you can rest well.”
“Thanks. Wake me in an hour, will you? I have a meeting with the treasurer.”
“If you’re this tired, perhaps you should postpone—”
“No. If I sleep for an hour… I’ll be fine.”
But his words were already slowing. Delma adjusted his pillow and pulled a blanket over him, then drew the curtains to block the sunlight.
“Thank you.”
Even half-asleep, he still thanked her. Delma looked at him with concern before quietly leaving the room. Her lord was soft-hearted by nature. For someone like him to interrogate criminals, punish them, and express anger on behalf of victims must have been very hard. She always worried he might collapse again.
Who knows how much time passed.
Suddenly, Donghee jolted awake, sensing unfamiliar air. For several seconds, he only blinked, trying to understand what was happening.
Above him were blotchy patches of mold on the ceiling, the musty air of poor ventilation, the squeak of worn mattress springs, and from a ground-level window, footsteps and car sounds from outside—all striking his senses at once.
“What the…?”
He sat up in shock. He had fallen asleep in his room inside the castle, but he had woken up in a dingy basement studio apartment. Yet he had no memory of entering the front door.
“Did I come in here half-asleep…?”
Just then—
Bzzzzzt, bzzzzzt.
A vibration. It came from an old cellphone plugged into a charger beside the mattress.
“Ah!”
Startled, Donghee almost fell backwards.
“A call?”
With trembling hands, he picked up the phone. Who could possibly be calling? The status window had said that no other life existed on Earth besides him.
His heart pounded with a mix of fear, tension, and fragile hope. He checked the caller ID.
It was the convenience store owner.
Relief and dread tangled inside him.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he swallowed dryly and pressed the answer button.
“…Hel… hello?”
