Alpha Culinary Love

The kitchen of *Flavor of Seoul* was buzzing like a hornet's nest. Pots clanged, knives sliced through vegetables with precision, and the smell of searing meats mixed with exotic spices filled the air. Jiyeon stood in the center of it all, hands on her hips, surveying the chaos with an intense focus that hid just how *freaked out* she really was.

The Culinary System's mission was still looming over her head like a guillotine, and every second that ticked by felt like it brought her closer to that metaphorical blade. Three days. That's all she had to create a menu that could wow the wealthiest, most entitled people in the city. And the worst part? She couldn't tell a soul about it. Not Kang, not her staff, not even Yura.

If there was ever a time to be terrified, this was it.

"Alright, people!" Jiyeon barked, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. "We've got less than seventy-two hours to nail these dishes, and I'm not interested in any half-baked, soggy-assed attempts. If your heart isn't in it, get out of the kitchen now."

Kang, who had been stirring a pot of stock, gave her a side-eye. "You really know how to motivate the troops, don't you?"

Jiyeon shot him a grin. "What can I say? I inspire fear."

Kang snorted. "More like rage."

As the team scrambled into action, Jiyeon walked over to the prep station where the ingredients for the first dish—the lobster jeon—were laid out. Two of the junior chefs were staring at the live lobsters like they were about to face off in a gladiator match.

"Uh, Chef Jiyeon?" one of them, a gangly kid with shaky hands, called out nervously. "I've never worked with lobster before."

Jiyeon raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling me you've never murdered a lobster in cold blood?"

The kid swallowed hard. "No, ma'am."

"Well, today's your lucky day," Jiyeon said, grabbing a lobster and waving its claws dramatically. "This bad boy's going to be the star of our first dish, but first, you've got to show it who's boss. None of that 'I feel bad for the lobster' crap. It's you or him. And guess what? He's going in the fryer."

The kid paled, but Jiyeon slapped him on the back. "Don't worry. It's just like breaking up with a crappy boyfriend. Quick, painful for him, and you move on."

Kang wandered over, arms crossed. "You really have a gift for metaphors, don't you?"

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"Hey, I didn't make the rules. Lobsters are bastards." Jiyeon handed the junior chef the lobster and a knife. "Now, put him out of his misery, and we'll get started on this jeon."

As the kid hesitantly went to work, Jiyeon turned her attention to the mix of ingredients they were going to use for the jeon batter. She eyed the white truffle sitting next to a stack of potatoes. "We're going all out with this, right?" she asked Kang, who nodded, looking mildly suspicious.

"Why do I feel like you're about to do something insane?" he asked.

Jiyeon grinned. "Because you know me too well. Get the microplane—we're going to grate the truffle into the batter. These rich bastards love anything that smells expensive."

Kang shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. "Truffle jeon. You're either a genius or completely out of your mind."

"Probably both," Jiyeon said, whisking together the ingredients. She glanced over at the lobster, which had been successfully dispatched and was now being expertly dismantled by the junior chef. "Alright, once the lobster's ready, we'll fold it into the batter, fry it up, and give these snobs something to cry about."

The kitchen moved like a well-oiled machine—if that machine occasionally made clunky noises and was prone to expletives. Jiyeon was bouncing from station to station, making sure every dish was being prepped to perfection.

At the galbi tartare station, one of the sous chefs was working on the wagyu beef, slicing it into delicate pieces. Jiyeon hovered over his shoulder. "Make sure that beef's cut thin enough to make angels weep, or I swear to God I'll weep on your behalf."

The chef nodded, not daring to look up from his work. Jiyeon smirked, knowing she was half-joking. Half.

"We're adding nashi pear and pickled daikon for that extra crunch, right?" she asked.

"Already prepped and ready, Chef," the sous chef said, showing her the perfectly cubed pear and daikon.

"Good, because if we don't get that crunch, I'll hunt you down with this whisk," Jiyeon said, brandishing a whisk like a weapon.

"Noted," the sous chef replied, a slight tremor in his voice.

Satisfied, Jiyeon moved on to check the braised short ribs. Kang was overseeing the process himself, stirring the massive pot that smelled like heaven.

"How's the doenjang and red wine working together?" Jiyeon asked, leaning in to take a whiff.

Kang dipped a spoon into the rich, bubbling liquid and offered it to her. Jiyeon tasted it, her eyes closing as the deep umami of the doenjang hit her tongue, followed by the smoothness of the red wine.

"Damn," she said, eyes popping open. "That's f***ing magical."

Kang grinned. "Told you. We braise this long enough, and these ribs are going to melt in their mouths. Add the roasted chestnuts and shiitake mushrooms, and they'll be too busy weeping to even notice they're eating short ribs."

Jiyeon nodded, impressed. "This is the kind of dish that makes you believe in God. Or at least in fermented soybean paste."

"Same thing, really," Kang muttered.

They moved on to the dessert station, where the pastry chef was carefully layering yuja jelly onto small bowls of matcha crème brûlée. The vibrant green of the matcha and the bright yellow of the yuja were stunning together, but Jiyeon wasn't satisfied with just looks.

"Let's torch one of these bad boys," Jiyeon said, grabbing a blowtorch. "I need to know if that caramel crack is as satisfying as it looks."

The pastry chef handed her one of the prepared bowls, and Jiyeon fired up the torch. With a practiced hand, she caramelized the top until it was a perfect golden-brown. She tapped the top with a spoon, grinning when it gave a sharp, satisfying crack.

"There it is," she said, pleased. She scooped up a spoonful of the creamy, citrusy dessert and tasted it, nodding in approval. "Perfect balance of sweet and tart. The yuja jelly is a stroke of genius. But make sure we have enough churros to go with this. These rich a**holes will riot if they don't get their soy caramel fix."

"Already got the dough prepped, Chef," the pastry chef said, holding up a tray of churro dough ready to be fried.

"Good," Jiyeon said, licking her spoon clean. "Because if I hear one complaint about dessert, I'm throwing someone into the fryer."

With all the dishes underway, Jiyeon felt a surge of adrenaline. It was all coming together, and they were on schedule, which was a miracle in itself. But there was no room for complacency. They had to be perfect.

Suddenly, Jiyeon's vision flickered, and she felt that all-too-familiar tingle in her mind.

[Mission progress: 15% complete. Time remaining: 48 hours.]

She nearly groaned out loud but managed to keep her face neutral. Of course, the Culinary System would be breathing down her neck, reminding her of the ticking clock. Two days left, and they still had to do test runs, perfect plating, and—oh, right—figure out the logistics of actually getting this all to The Rose Manor.

But no pressure, right?

"Hey, Jiyeon," Kang called from across the kitchen, snapping her out of her thoughts. "You look like you're plotting someone's murder. What's going on?"

Jiyeon shook her head, forcing a grin. "Just mentally preparing myself for the inevitable panic attack I'll have tomorrow."

Kang chuckled. "That's the spirit."

Jiyeon took a deep breath and turned back to the chaos of the kitchen. There was no time to think about the system or the mission. She had to stay focused. Every dish needed to be flawless, every detail perfect.

If she could pull this off—if her team could pull this off—*Flavor of Seoul* would not only survive but thrive. And maybe, just maybe, Jiyeon could stop feeling like she was two seconds away from disaster at all times.

But for now? She had a kitchen full of talented, terrified chefs and a menu that was going to make the high society snobs at The Rose Manor question their very existence.

It was go time.

Just as Jiyeon was inspecting the final batch of lobster jeon, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She wiped her hands on her apron before fishing it out. Yura's name flashed across the screen.

"Well, speak of the devil," Jiyeon muttered, accepting the call.

Yura's voice was as icy as ever, but Jiyeon could hear the soft undertone of affection she was trying to hide. "Busy?"

"Only if you count trying to stop my kitchen from burning down," Jiyeon replied, grinning. "What's up?"

"I have a meeting in fifteen, but I wanted to check in. You haven't burned down the restaurant… yet?"

"Please, this place is practically a fire hazard, but no casualties. Yet."

Yura let out a small huff, which Jiyeon liked to think was her version of a laugh. "Good. Just make sure you come home tonight without smelling like you've fought a grease fire."

Jiyeon leaned against the counter, voice teasing. "Can't make any promises. Besides, I thought you liked the smell of burnt food on me."

"Hardly," Yura replied, deadpan. "I prefer the scent of someone who knows how to handle their kitchen."

"Alright, alright. I'll be home in one piece. No fires. Scout's honor."

"Good," Yura said softly. "See you tonight."