Meanwhile, Cheol had left the apartment and was on his way to the restaurant of Uncle Man-shik as per his deal with Rumi. Cheol: "Well, let's go. I am coming, Uncs."
On his way through the now-bustling streets, Cheol noticed a huge crowd gathered up ahead. Curious, he drifted closer—only to hear a sharp thup. A boy about his age was roughing up a younger kid.
Cheol's eyes narrowed. He marched forward, grabbed the older boy's wrist, and barked,Cheol: "Oi, why are you hitting the kid?"
The boy tilted his head with a cocky smirk, leaning in close.Boy: "Back off… unless you want to spend the day crawling with broken bones."
Cheol: "Don't hit the kid."
The boy scoffed, voice dripping with arrogance.Boy: "Don't act tough just 'cause there's a crowd. I wouldn't flinch while breaking you, bum."
The boy's face twisted with anger. He stepped back, then lunged forward with a wild, heavy swing.
Swoosh!
Before the punch could connect, Cheol's elbow snapped upward in a clean uppercut, smashing into the boy's chin. The crowd gasped as the boy toppled backward, landing hard on the ground. Blood trickled from his nose.
He quickly realised Cheol was out of his league—but pride wouldn't let him stop. Gritting his teeth, he staggered back up and charged again, arm swinging like a hammer.
Cheol didn't even flinch. In one smooth motion, he spun, his leg whipping around in a brutal roundhouse kick that cracked against the boy's face. The impact sent him sprawling, and the sight was enough to scare the troublemaker.
The kid got up, brushing the dust off his clothes."Thanks, old sir, for helping me."
Cheol raised an eyebrow. "Old sir? What's your name, kid?"
The boy grinned sheepishly. "My name is Erik Stenmar."
Cheol patted the boy's shoulder."If anybody ever tries to bully you again, don't just sit back and let them push you around—fight back, okay?"
Cheol left the scene and made it to Uncle Man-shik's restaurant.It wasn't anything fancy—just a cozy spot—but every table was packed, customers laughing and slurping away.
He walked to the counter, where Rumi was hunched over a pile of coins, counting with the focus of a banker.Without glancing up, she said, "Why are you standing there like a lamp post? Go wear the spare uniform and start serving plates. Ms. Kelen's off today, so chop-chop."
Cheol scrunched his face. "Tch… bossy witch."
Rumi's hands froze mid-count. She looked up slowly. "What was that?"
"I said bossy—as in, boss," Cheol said with an exaggerated innocent smile.
"Liar. I heard the witch part loud and clear."
"Well… you are kinda witchy. You're always ordering people around," Cheol teased, leaning on the counter.
Rumi slammed the counter. Thud! "Listen, you freeloading brat! Be grateful I'm letting you work here at all."
"Oh wow, thank you for making me your personal plate slave. How generous."
"At least I'm giving you food to eat, noodle-head!"
"I can get food myself!"
"With what money?!"
Cheol opened his mouth, paused… and crossed his arms. "Still doesn't mean you can boss me around."
Rumi smirked. "Oh, I can. And I will. Now go put on the uniform before I kick your butt out the door."
Cheol muttered, "Tch… old hag…" as he stomped toward the back.
"What was that?!" Rumi shouted after him.
"Nothing!" Cheol called, disappearing into the kitchen.
Cheol pushed through the swinging kitchen door, still muttering under his breath about Rumi.
Inside, Uncle Man-shik was bent over a sizzling pan, the smell of garlic and soy sauce filling the air. He glanced up, his face lighting up."Well, if it isn't Cheol! I didn't know you'd be coming in today."
Cheol shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Yeah, well… had some free time, thought I could kill it here."
Uncle Man-shik chuckled, flipping the food in the pan. "It's nice of you to help out now and then."
"Don't mention it, Uncle Shik," Cheol said, pulling on the spare apron.
From the front, Rumi's voice rang out, "And hurry up, plate-boy!"
Cheol groaned. "...I wonder how a angel like him had a daughter like you."
Although Cheol was still a bit inexperienced, he managed to handle the rush surprisingly well.
At the counter, a customer smiled. "Uncle Shik is the best chef!"
Rumi, already halfway through bowing, replied, "Thanks for dining here!"
The bell above the door jingled as the last customer left. Cheol wandered over to the counter, wiping his hands on the apron."It was one exhausting part-time shift… well, about time we closed the shop."
"Fair," Rumi said, stretching her shoulders. She tilted her head back toward the kitchen. "Father, I'm leaving!"
Shik's voice came from the back, still busy with the last bit of cleaning. "Okay, I'll come after a while."
Rumi untied her apron, tossed it onto the counter, and stepped outside into the night. Cheol stayed behind, leaning on the counter with a sigh.
"You're not going with her?" Uncle Shik asked, coming out with a damp towel slung over his shoulder.
"Nah," Cheol said, pulling out a stool. "I'll wait for you, Uncle. No fun walking alone anyway."
Uncle Shik chuckled. "Alright then, give me five minutes to lock up."
The two finished tidying the tables in quiet, the hum of the refrigerator and faint street chatter outside filling the silence.
Shik hung all the aprons neatly on the hanger inside, giving each one a little shake before hooking it.
"Uncle Shik," Cheol asked as he leaned against the counter, "do you ever plan on expanding this shop?"
Shik gave a small laugh, shaking his head. "I'm out of my prime now. Don't have enough of me left to take on all that."
Cheol hummed thoughtfully. "Hmm…"
Shik's expression softened. "These days, all I'm worried about is Rumi. She keeps working here, and I try to give her the easier tasks… but I'm afraid her hands might get too rough for marriage."
Cheol smirked faintly. "Well, what about the shop?"
Shik shrugged. "I don't know. Rumi's going to be a physician, and I don't want to force my dream over hers. If her husband someday wants to continue the shop, maybe it'll stay. If not… I might just sell it."
Cheol's eyes narrowed at a small bundle Shik was wrapping up. "Wait, what are you packing?"
Shik smiled and handed the bundle over. "You worked hard today. Take this—share it with Gao. A little treat for the both of you."
Shrrrrrrgh. Man-shik slid the shutters down, the metal rattling as it closed, then clicked the lock in place.
Cheol waved. "See you later, Uncle Shik."
"Get home safe, kid," Shik replied.
The streets were quiet as Cheol made his way home. In the dim light of an alley, he spotted a mother holding her young son close. They were shivering, their clothes thin against the night's chill.
"Mother… I'm hungry," the boy murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Cheol walked over. "Hey… here," he said, kneeling and holding out one of the food parcels.
The boy blinked in surprise. "Is… is this for me?"
"Yeah. Eat it before it gets cold," Cheol said with a faint smile.
The mother quickly bowed. "Thank you… thank you so much, young man."
"It's nothing," Cheol replied, scratching the back of his head. "Just… take care of him, alright?"
The boy hugged the warm parcel to his chest. "I will… thank you, sir!"
Cheol nodded and turned away, disappearing back into the quiet street.
Gao glanced at the clock. Tch, about time Cheol showed up.
Knock, knock.
He opened the door to find Cheol standing there, holding a food parcel.
Cheol: "So… how's that boy doing?"Gao: "First, come inside."Cheol: "Yeah, yeah."Gao: "Freshen up. I had a feeling you'd show up with some kind of treat."Cheol: [frowning] "Pfft—wow. You really think I'd help someone just for free food? That's disgusting."Gao: "Well… I didn't say you would, I said I expected it."Cheol: "Same thing, genius."
Cheol brushed past him with a look of mock offense and headed to the bathroom. After freshening up and changing clothes, he walked over to the bed where the boy was lying.
"Oi, wake up," Cheol said, giving him a light shake.
The boy stirred, blinking drowsily. With a slight slur, he mumbled,"Ei-gi ming asi Inglen Yumnak oi."
Cheol tilted his head, brows furrowed. "Uh… is he doing some kind of sleepwalking spell or something?"
Cheol: "I think he's a trans."Gao: "…what??"Cheol: "A transmigrator, genius. He's from another time, I believe."
Gao: "Right… because that's obviously the most reasonable explanation. Not fever, not head trauma—nope, straight to anothe time."
Boy: "I think I've figured something out about my memories."Gao: "And what did you figure out?"Boy: "I think… my name is Inglen Yumnak."Cheol: "Eeh?"Inglen: "Well, it's the only logical explanation for suddenly remembering a name like that."
Gao: "So, Mr. Inglen Yumnak… nice to meet you."Cheol: "Gao, come on. Think about it."Gao: "Well… if I believe your theory, things do add up. He's got a strange accent, and if he really was brought here, then his memories might've been sealed away by some kind of sealing magic."
Gao opened the parcel, the warm aroma filling the room. He sat cross-legged on the floor and waved Cheol over.Gao: "Come on, let's eat."Cheol stayed standing, hands in his pockets. "I've already eaten," he muttered, thinking to himself, The food won't be enough anyway.Gao: "Yeah, right. I know you gave part of it to someone on the way. Sit down and eat up… or else."Cheol sighed, rolling his eyes. "Okay, okay… fine."
None of them knew it then, but that night—sharing a simple meal in their cramped room—was the quiet before a storm that would change all their lives in ways they couldn't yet imagine.
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