~Chapter 1~
It was a spring day like any other.
Lee Seojin, a 27-year-old man, was on his way to work at a restaurant under the warm sunlight—when he suddenly awakened.
[Lee Seojin]
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Skill: Checking…
“…?”
He stopped in his tracks, limping slightly, as a status window popped up before his eyes. He tried to make sense of what was happening.
“They say when you see this kind of thing, it means you’ve awakened.”
Awakened individuals could enter the “Field” whenever they wanted.
The Field was an alternate dimension that began to merge with Earth six months ago.
Inside the Field, monsters of varying danger levels—from low to extreme—were scattered throughout different regions.
No matter how many were killed, the monsters would respawn over time like in a game, endlessly increasing in number.
And when their numbers reached a saturation point, a Field Break would occur, allowing monsters to pour into the real world.
When humanity hadn’t yet adapted to this phenomenon, the first Field Break happened just two weeks after the Field’s appearance—and it led to the deaths of countless people.
To prevent such tragedies, awakened individuals began to risk their lives entering the Field. These people were known as Hunters, and depending on their performance, they were rewarded by the government.
Of course, not all Hunters were treated well.
If your awakened skill wasn’t useful for combat, you were treated as a mere errand boy.
That’s why it mattered so much to Lee Seojin what skill he would awaken with.
He looked up at the sky.
“I wonder who chooses who awakens.”
Could it be some god pitying Earth’s people, suffering from the encroaching Field?
No one had uncovered the truth yet.
What was known, however, was that awakened individuals received a skill tailored to them after a one-day assessment period.
No one knew how or by whom that assessment was done.
“If you’re listening, please give me something decent.”
Seojin didn’t care much for the Field or becoming a Hunter.
It had only been half a year since the Field appeared. There was little information available, and Seojin had no interest in things that didn’t concern him.
It wasn’t like he could use monster parts to open a restaurant, so there wasn’t much to gain.
Still, he hoped for a good skill.
Even if he wasn’t interested, he knew awakened individuals with good skills made money hand over fist.
And right now, Seojin’s situation was dire.
Just a few months ago, he had been on the verge of achieving his lifelong dream before turning 30.
Now, even dreaming felt like a luxury.
He was barely making ends meet, living day to day.
* * *
Growl.
Seojin’s stomach grumbled loudly.
He’d been eating just one meal a day to save money and was constantly hungry.
He checked his bank balance on his phone.
370,000 won. (~$270)
That was everything he had—and the sum total of his professional life so far.
Seojin reflected bitterly.
What if I hadn’t been scammed?
No, maybe if I hadn’t tried to open a restaurant at all, I wouldn’t have been conned.
But still…
Even if I could go back, I’d open the restaurant again.
His own restaurant—that had been Seojin’s lifelong dream.
An orphan, Seojin had once been deeply moved by a volunteer chef who brought special meals to the orphanage. That happiness made him want to become a chef himself.
He devoted his life to that dream, and at 26, finally opened a small restaurant.
He’d saved every penny, cutting back on food and clothes, and maxed out his loans.
He thought only happiness awaited him after achieving his dream—but then the nightmare began.
He had been scammed.
The landlord he signed the lease with wasn’t the real owner. It had all been a fraud.
A naive young man who only knew how to cook had been an easy target.
The shock of the incident caused him to collapse—and when he woke up, he had mild paralysis in his right hand and leg.
It wasn’t severe enough to hinder daily life, but in the fast-paced kitchen, where hands were always moving, wielding a knife became impossible.
Now, all he had left was a tiny rental room and an overwhelming mountain of debt.
That was three months ago.
Still unable to give up cooking, Seojin searched for work and barely landed a job as a kitchen assistant at a Korean restaurant.
With partial paralysis, being head chef was out of the question.
His tiny paycheck was instantly swallowed by debt payments, forcing him into an extremely frugal lifestyle.
Still, he found some comfort in being able to stay in the kitchen and cook.
“Phew.”
Standing in front of the restaurant like a general about to enter battle, Seojin gave himself a little pep talk.
“Onjeong Korean Restaurant.”
That was the name on the old, faded sign. This was where he worked.
Awakening was one thing, but since he didn’t know what skill he’d get, he had to stay grounded in reality.
Ding-ling—
“Good morning.”
He greeted the restaurant owner as he walked in.
“You’re here?”
Jo Sang-man, an older man with graying hair, answered without even glancing up from his phone.
His cold attitude could’ve been offensive, but Seojin just let it slide.
Jo Sang-man had acted like that since Seojin’s interview.
But Seojin wasn’t in a position to complain. He was grateful just to have a job.
He went into the kitchen, put on his apron and boots, and began prepping ingredients.
As someone who once ran his own restaurant, being a kitchen assistant might have felt degrading—but Seojin didn’t mind.
He was just happy to be in the kitchen again.
About an hour later, the head chef, Yoo Tae-an, arrived.
“Boss~ Did you have a good night? Haha!”
He bowed with a friendly smile.
Unlike with Seojin, Jo Sang-man made eye contact and even patted Yoo Tae-an’s shoulder.
“Ah, that’s our respectful head chef. So polite.”
“Without manners, I’m nothing!”
“Let’s work hard today!”
“Yes, sir! I’ll do my best! Haha!”
When Yoo Tae-an entered the kitchen, Seojin greeted him.
“You’re here.”
Yoo Tae-an straightened up like he hadn’t just been bowing moments ago and looked down at Seojin.
“For someone your age, you’re awfully stiff.”
“…”
Seojin stayed silent.
Yoo Tae-an, the very definition of “weak to the strong and strong to the weak,” constantly nitpicked Seojin, thinking of him as beneath him.
At first, it was infuriating—but after three months, Seojin had become numb to it.
“You’re the kitchen assistant, and I’m the head chef. Shouldn’t you show a little respect? Didn’t you see how I greeted the boss? Don’t you think you should learn from that?”
“…”
“Sigh. You’ll be thirty soon. If you act like this, people will call you socially inept. I’m older than you, so I’m telling you this out of affection. In today’s individualistic world, no one gives sincere advice like this. Let’s try to improve, okay?”
Yoo Tae-an was 28—just one year older—but acted like a complete boomer.
After his speech, he started preparing for the day’s service.
By 10:30 a.m., Jang Young-shim, a part-time server, also arrived.
She didn’t seem particularly attached to the restaurant. She just silently cleaned the dining area and opened the restaurant at 11 sharp.
The restaurant opened, and Jo Sang-man took his place at the counter.
Ding-ling—
Customers started filing in for lunch, and a busy day at Onjeong Korean Restaurant began.
* * *
“God, this is disgusting.”
A red-haired woman wearing a black masquerade mask made from monster loot muttered.
She was an S-rank Hunter affiliated with Korea, known as Delicate, though some called her “Dokkaebi.”
No one knew her real name or what lay behind her mask.
Prioritizing privacy, she operated as a Hunter under strict anonymity.
Three days ago, a large dungeon had appeared in a Field that invaded Korean territory.
Because of the dungeon’s high danger level, one of Korea’s top three Hunters—Delicate—was dispatched.
She assembled a party of elite Hunters and entered the Field, now two days into the mission.
Items from the Field could be brought into the real world, but not the other way around.
That meant all Hunter gear had to be crafted from monster materials.
This wasn’t a big issue—Delicate had even brought a party member with a water-based skill, ensuring they had clean water.
But…
“The problem is the food.”
Monster meat was disgusting—inedible even.
It was toxic, rubbery, and reeked.
After lots of experimentation, it could be made edible—but never tasty.
The foul, gamey taste never fully disappeared, no matter how it was cooked.
No amount of tenderizing or spices could fix it.
In fact, cooking it often made it worse.
It was a scientific triumph that monster meat could be consumed at all—but that didn’t change the fact that it tasted awful.
Chomp. Chomp. Gulp.
“This is dog food.”
Delicate grimaced as she forced down the meat.
The other Hunters also looked miserable, faces scrunched from the awful meal.
Someone clutched their stomach and groaned.
“Ugh. So bloated. When is this food situation going to improve? Isn’t there any Hunter with a cooking skill?”
“If there was, the government would’ve snatched them up already. Heck, the whole world would be fighting over them. But it’s been radio silence.”
“Does a cooking skill even exist?”
No one had an answer.
Talking used energy. Hunger would come faster, and they’d have to eat this crap again.
Better to stay quiet and get some sleep.
“…I can’t take this anymore.”
Delicate muttered as others lay down.
She’d almost quit being a Hunter more than once—just because of the food.
Ordinary people thought Hunters had it easy. They had no idea how rough it really was.
“If I could just eat something tasty in the Field… that’s all I want.”
[Skill analysis complete.]
“…Hmm?”
As the morning sun warmed him on his way to work, a message appeared in front of Seojin’s eyes.
It had been 24 hours since he awakened.
“Please, just a decent skill…”
He wasn’t even hoping for an S-rank.
Even a C-rank would do—enough to hunt a few monsters, sell their loot, and pay off his debt faster.
His heart raced with hope.
Moments later, Seojin’s eyes widened as he read the new message.
[You have awakened the skill: “Hand Taste.”]
