* * *

Just as the thought crossed Yeongdeok’s mind, the man spoke.

“Owner.”

“What…?”

“This is the worst chicken I’ve ever had in my life. It feels like my taste buds are dying.”

The moment he finished speaking, the air between them grew icy.

Though he had just hurled an insult, the man continued to smile pleasantly.

Knowing that everyone has different tastes, Yeongdeok was aware he couldn’t satisfy everyone.

Still, he thought it best to hear the customer out.

“What exactly is wrong with it?”

“Everything. It’s so bad I want to toss it on the ground and stomp on it.”

The man crossed one leg over the other, his tone not so much feedback as picking a fight.

A crease formed between Yeongdeok’s brows, but before he could respond, Jihoon interjected.

“Excuse me, sir. Even if you didn’t like the taste, that’s not really a polite way to put it.”

Jihoon responded as calmly as he could, despite the veins standing out on his neck.

Yeongdeok watched him quietly.

It wasn’t as if he’d been insulted, but Jihoon was fuming as though he had been personally affronted.

“I’m sorry. But, you know, chicken is generally good, right? I feel like even a fried shoe might taste better than this.”

Yeongdeok noticed Jihoon’s grip tighten.

Thinking a fight might break out, he placed a hand on Jihoon’s shoulder to restrain him.

“Enough, Seo Jihoon.”

Even if Yeongdeok hadn’t stopped him, Jihoon didn’t plan on doing anything more.

Having his restaurant known as the place that fought with customers wouldn’t do any good.

Yet, his anger remained; only his fingertips trembled. Yeongdeok spoke up in his place.

“If that’s how you feel, I’ll bring you a fried shoe then. If it really tastes better, then you should be able to eat it, right?”

While dealing with customer complaints with a softer touch is usually best, Yeongdeok wasn’t one to let groundless accusations slide.

Jihoon blinked in surprise at Yeongdeok’s bold retort, and the man covered his mouth, chuckling.

A peculiar gleam flickered in the man’s eyes.

In that instant, Yeongdeok sensed something unsettling. The man’s laughter faded as he casually glanced around.

“But really, don’t you all agree?”

The man spoke as if riling up a crowd.

That strange voice seemed to ring directly into their heads, drawing others into it as if hypnotized.

One by one, the customers at nearby tables set down their chicken and rose to their feet, their eyes now clouded and vacant.

“Come to think of it, I’ve been wondering what flavor this was supposed to be. Turns out, it just has no flavor….”

“Shoe, huh? It does kind of taste like a shoe.”

“Can’t believe they’re selling this trash for money.”

One customer even tossed their half-eaten chicken onto the floor.

Yeongdeok watched the scene in astonishment.

“Why is everyone suddenly…?”

Jihoon stared in bewilderment at the customers’ abrupt change of attitude, then quickly glanced at Yeongdeok’s face, worrying if he’d taken it to heart.

But Yeongdeok looked as calm as ever.

“Seems the customers agree. Maybe it’s time to refine your chicken recipe a bit more.”

Once again, spurred by the man’s words, the customers loudly declared that even 8,900 won was too much for such chicken and began streaming out of the restaurant, one by one.

Yeongdeok made no attempt to stop them, folding his arms and looking the man dead in the eyes.

Before long, the once-crowded restaurant was empty, leaving only Yeongdeok, Jihoon, and the man behind.

Once everyone else had left, the man leisurely rose from his seat.

Taking out a check from his wallet, he placed it on the counter with a smile.

“I’ll cover the bill for everyone who just left. No need for change.”

The check lay on the counter. Yeongdeok stood still, trying to make sense of the strange situation.

What were the odds that customers, perfectly content moments earlier, would collectively decide the chicken was awful and leave?

It defied logic, leading him to one conclusion.

As the man opened the door, the chime of the doorbell echoed.

Not wanting him to slip away after causing such a scene, Yeongdeok called out.

“You.”

The man’s gaze shifted lazily toward Yeongdeok, a mysterious look in his eyes.

Yeongdeok suddenly felt a strange certainty that his conclusion was right.

The words left his lips as if under a spell.

“Are you… the writer?”

The man’s lips curled into a wry smile before he walked out, leaving only his enigmatic smirk behind.

“Just wait.”

Yeongdeok chased after him, but upon opening the door, he saw only an empty sidewalk.

As fast as the man had moved, it was nearly impossible for him to vanish so suddenly.

Like magic, he’d disappeared without a trace.

“Hyung.”

Jihoon’s voice came from behind him.

Though everyone else had gone, Jihoon was still there, standing steadfast behind Yeongdeok.

“…Are you okay?”

“There’s nothing to be upset about.”

Returning to the shop, Yeongdeok decided he’d have to clean up the mess the customers had left behind.

He lifted his hand to clear the tables, but found his fingers trembling.

What’s wrong with me?

Startled, he tried to shake off the feeling and begin cleaning, but it wasn’t easy.

He’d never felt this way before, and confusion crept in, until Jihoon placed his hand over his and offered comfort.

“Don’t stress about it. Probably just some twisted prank by a jerk YouTuber, right? No way people would just flip like that out of nowhere.”

If it wasn’t a prank, though…

In Yeongdeok’s experience, only one person could pull off something so absurd.

He bit down on his lower lip, recalling that detestable pseudonym.

“I’ll take care of it, so just sit down for a bit.”

“No need.”

“You’re paying me, so you might as well make me work, right?”

Jihoon gave a slight smile, as if trying to lighten his mood.

It was then that Yeongdeok finally felt the warmth of Jihoon’s hand over his own, calming him slightly.

“Then fine. Do it.”

“Got it.”

Jihoon gathered up the leftover chicken and separated the meat from the bones, taking the dishes over to the sink.

Sitting at the counter, Yeongdeok watched him, his hands clenching and unclenching as the tremors began to subside.

With his composure returning, Yeongdeok replayed the strange sensation he’d just felt.

Mentally, he wanted to start cleaning, but his body wouldn’t obey.

It was unsettling, like his insides were churning. For that brief moment, he didn’t feel like himself.

Once he felt better, he grabbed a broom and dustpan and began sweeping the floor.

Though Jihoon tried to stop him, insisting he’d handle it, Yeongdeok ignored him, resolutely finishing the cleanup.

With the two of them working together, the disarrayed restaurant was soon spotless.

Jihoon, drying his freshly washed hands, turned to Yeongdeok.

“Let’s bounce back. You know there are plenty of people who love your chicken, Hyung.”

Jihoon gave Yeongdeok a light pat on the back.

Normally, Yeongdeok might have thought it cheeky, but today, it felt strangely reassuring.

“I’d do that even if you didn’t say so.”

“That’s the shameless Cha Yeongdeok I know.”

As Jihoon brushed it off with his usual optimism, Yeongdeok felt his spirits lift as well.

Soon enough, new customers began trickling into the restaurant, behaving as regular patrons.

The previous scene started feeling like a distant dream.

As he continued working, Yeongdeok found himself recalling the mysterious man’s face.

What was with his peculiar atmosphere?

And if he really was PetitRolang, why did he rouse the customers and leave?

What was his purpose?

No answer came, no matter how much he pondered.

While he was lost in thought, the day wore on, and it was finally time to close up.

Worn out after the day’s chaos, Jihoon was feeling exceptionally tired.

“Good job today. That weirdo made a mess, huh.”

Even as he closed the restaurant, Yeongdeok’s mind was elsewhere.

Always logical, he looked dazed until the very end.

Concerned, Jihoon waved a hand in front of his face.

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

Before Yeongdeok’s eyes, Jihoon’s hand blurred, then gradually came into focus.

Regaining his composure, Yeongdeok spoke with calm determination, as though he hadn’t been lost in thought.

“It’s nothing.”

“If it’s about that jerk from earlier, forget it. Guys like that vile YouTuber deserve some backlash.”

Jihoon grew animated, ready to expose the YouTuber’s identity on social media if only he could find out more.

Yeongdeok let out a small chuckle.

It amused him that Jihoon was angrier than he was, even though it wasn’t his problem.

That was typical Jihoon.

He remembered how Jihoon had stepped up for him earlier, and the memory brought a faint, strange feeling, making him lower his smile.

“This won’t do. I’ll drive you home tonight. Let’s take the truck.”

“Didn’t you say that riding in my car messes with your head?”

“Guess I have no choice.”

Jihoon urged him to head back and get some rest, and Yeongdeok reluctantly closed up the shop quickly, heading to the parking lot with him.

It was the same truck he saw every day, yet today, something about it felt strange.

Seeing Yeongdeok staring blankly instead of climbing in, Jihoon sensed something was off.

“What are you thinking about? Are you okay?”

This truck reminded him of the one that almost killed him. That truck was much larger, but the form was similar.

Lost in thought, Yeongdeok only snapped out of it thanks to Jihoon.

He climbed into the truck, and Jihoon joined him, buckling his seatbelt before saying, “Hyung, you should just go straight to bed when you get home tonight.”

“I’ll manage, don’t nag.”

With a glance around, Yeongdeok started the truck and drove out of the narrow lot.

Jihoon kept his eyes on him the whole way, and perhaps because he was so focused, Yeongdeok’s driving didn’t seem as rough as usual.

* * *