God-Given Business Genius

Yukgaejang.

Yukgaeja-what?

What on earth was this? Yukgaejang? We had never developed or sold such a menu item at Hapjae Soup.

“I didn’t mishear that, did I?”

“…I heard it clearly too.”

Jo I-ruk’s face hardened. It seemed he was just as clueless as I was.

“When I came here, there was definitely no menu item like yukgaejang…”

I opened the menu to ascertain the situation.

The design was similar to what we had created at headquarters, but the menu, which originally fit on a single page, had expanded to two.

The left side described the single Hapjae Soup menu item, while the right listed additional items like rice and drinks. And there it was, plain as day: “Yukgaejang” on the right.

Good grief. The photo looks like it was lifted from the internet. The description seems cobbled together haphazardly too.

“…How could this happen? They never mentioned anything like this to me.”

Jo I-ruk seemed even more shocked than I was. Understandable, given that he was in charge of overseeing this location.

This must have been his first time dealing with franchise owners, so he probably wanted to do a good job. He likely thought he had built trust with the owner.

But the world isn’t so simple. Some franchise owners lie to headquarters without batting an eye. And they often feel little guilt about it.

They think they’re just borrowing the franchise brand, and the store is still their own.

‘I can understand their anxiety about a single-item menu, but…’

This isn’t the way to go about it.

“You always gave notice before visiting here, right?”

“…Yes. To coordinate schedules.”

“They must have shown a different menu when headquarters staff visited. On those days, they probably told customers asking for yukgaejang that they were out of ingredients.”

You might think, ‘They’d go that far?’ But they really do.

I encountered similar situations before my regression. Even after I thoroughly explained the concept of a specialty restaurant, some owners would say nothing to me until the day before opening, then suddenly add several side dishes on opening day.

I was just as flabbergasted then. It was even more shocking because we weren’t strangers.

‘Having been through all that before, I guess this doesn’t surprise me as much now.’

It’s well within the range of what I expected.

“I’m sorry. I must have been too complacent.”

Jo I-ruk wiped away cold sweat, watching my reaction.

Hmm. I suppose he’d be anxious, coming to inspect the store with the CEO only to find the situation so messy. But I’m really fine with it.

“It’s not your fault, Team Leader Jo.”

Strictly speaking, it is, but…

We’re still short-staffed, and Jo I-ruk is working hard enough. I didn’t intend to scold him further.

Even I, with considerable experience before my regression, was fooled like this. When someone is determined to hide something, there’s not much you can do.

“Should I call the franchise owner right away?”

Jo I-ruk seemed to think I was about to make a scene here. Come on, with all these customers around? That wouldn’t do.

“Let’s eat lunch first and think about it.”

I said with a smile. I raised my hand, catching the eye of a nearby server.

“We’re ready to order.”

“Yes~”

As the server approached, I recited the menu items I’d decided on.

“One Hapjae Soup and one yukgaejang, please.”

“Certainly, one Hapjae and one yukgaejang. Order received!”

It seemed the owner was working in the kitchen. I heard the order being repeated once more from the open kitchen area.

“Hmm.”

The kitchen looked clean enough. Of course, we’d need to go in for a closer look, but at least the areas visible to customers seemed well-maintained.

‘This deserves a passing grade.’

As I nodded to myself, they began preparing our order in the kitchen.

Rustle.

As the order ticket came out, they attached it to one side of the kitchen and started making the Hapjae Soup first.

They began by scooping boiling broth from a large pot for the toryeom process. They must have learned this when setting up the store, and their technique looked quite convincing.

“I made sure to teach them the toryeom process thoroughly.”

Jo I-ruk suddenly started highlighting his efforts.

“You said the toryeom should be done as skillfully as a master, didn’t you, CEO?”

“That’s right. It’s the performance most visible to customers.”

Experience is often felt in the fingertips.

If you can’t cut well, you should at least know how to sharpen knives like a pro. People are more susceptible to what they see than you might think.

Seeing the mature owner perform the toryeom so skillfully made the place feel like a soup restaurant with 30 years of tradition.

In no time, a bowl of Hapjae Soup was ready.

‘But when are they making the yukgaejang?’

This was odd.

Usually, they’d start with yukgaejang, which takes longer, and finish by doing the toryeom for the soup at the end.

‘The owner here has previous restaurant experience, so they should know this. Why make such a rookie mistake… Huh?’

Just then.

From a side of the kitchen not fully visible, they lifted a stone pot and placed it on a tray.

The red broth sloshing inside was clearly yukgaejang.

‘When did they…?’

I’d been watching the whole time, but I didn’t remember seeing them take out any other ingredients. How was this possible?

‘Thinking back to the floor plan I saw before, that area has… Ah, there are a few more burners.’

It was a space with additional burners for boiling water to adjust the broth seasoning. It was pushed towards the back, out of customers’ sight.

Did they cook the yukgaejang there?

As I was puzzling over this, the mystery was solved while the server was bringing our dishes to the table.

“…!”

The owner took a stone pot out of the refrigerator and slipped back to where those burners were.

Through the open refrigerator door, I caught a glimpse of several stone pots stacked up.

“……”

They were pre-made.

I was 100% certain. They had pre-filled the stone pots with yukgaejang ingredients, ready to just add water and heat.

This method allows for faster table turnover without getting backed up during rushes.

“Team Leader Jo. You said this place had good turnover and was always busy, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct. The other locations don’t have such fast table turnover, but this place has an overwhelming number of customers.”

“…We have a big problem.”

“Pardon?”

Jo I-ruk hadn’t noticed the inside of the refrigerator, it seemed. So he didn’t understand what the issue was.

“Here’s your Hapjae Soup and yukgaejang~ Which side would you like the yukgaejang?”

“Here, please.”

“Certainly.”

Bubble, bubble.

I looked down at the steaming yukgaejang with a heavy heart.

“Enjoy your meal~”

“Thank you.”

The server was blameless. After bowing slightly, I gently stirred the yukgaejang with my spoon, examining its contents.

Finely chopped meat, large pieces of green onion, mushrooms, fern bracken… They had even added some fresh green onions and red chili peppers at the end for color.

The contents themselves weren’t bad. The red broth looked spicy and appetizing.

“The yukgaejang looks decent.”

Jo I-ruk commented, sounding surprised.

I needed to taste it, but I hesitated, feeling like I already knew what it would taste like.

Sigh. After a deep breath, I scooped up a large spoonful and put it in my mouth.

Hmm. As expected.

“How is it?”

Jo I-ruk looked at me with curious eyes. I smiled gently and handed him a new spoon.

“Try it yourself.”

Jo I-ruk hesitated for a moment before taking a small sip of the broth.

“How does it taste?”

“Well…”

After pondering for a moment, Jo I-ruk answered.

“It’s just average. Not particularly tasty, but not bad either.”

“Try the meat too.”

I used unused chopsticks to tear off a large piece of meat and place it on his spoon.

To others, this might look like an affectionate gesture between a couple, but we were dead serious.

Chew, chew.

Gulp.

After eating the bite, Jo I-ruk slightly furrowed his brow and said,

“It has a gamey smell.”

“Right?”

“It’s not severe, but sensitive people might find it hard to eat.”

The quality was far inferior to Hapjae Soup. I couldn’t help but sigh.

Looking around at nearby tables, most people were eating Hapjae Soup, but I could see one person at every two or three tables eating yukgaejang.

Slurp.

“The Hapjae Soup tastes fine. It’s just as we taught them.”

“That’s a small relief, at least.”

What to do about this… As I tapped the table with my fingertips, Jo I-ruk cautiously added,

“…Most people are eating Hapjae Soup anyway. And the yukgaejang isn’t bad, just unremarkable. There’s certainly a customer base that prefers spicy broth.”

He wasn’t trying to defend the owner, but rather suggesting that the situation might not be as bad as we thought.

It had exactly the opposite effect.

“There are often owners like this. Usually, it’s the ones with a lot of menu items. They’ll say that out of ten dishes, two or three are just okay, but the rest are fine.”

Once you go over ten items, it becomes difficult for all the dishes to be delicious. Two or three end up being filler dishes to cater to different tastes.

“But Jo I-ruk-ssi, if you ate this yukgaejang, would you want to visit this place again?”

“Ah…”

“I guarantee that customers who eat yukgaejang here won’t be particularly impressed, and in a few days, they’ll barely remember eating it here. That means a drop in return visits.”

What a waste.

“Saying ‘only one or two out of ten are like this’ is meaningless. If a customer eats one of those subpar dishes, the whole restaurant becomes mediocre in their eyes.”

“I… see.”

“That’s why if you’re not confident from the start, you shouldn’t sell it.”

I finally put down my spoon. Keeping an eye on the kitchen, I asked Jo I-ruk,

“The owner here used to run a yukgaejang restaurant, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And I’m guessing it failed.”

“…Yes, it did.”

They still can’t let go of that habit. Seems like going out of business once wasn’t enough to teach them a lesson.

“Let’s go. I don’t want to fill my stomach with this.”

“Alright. …How should we handle the owner here?”

In response to Jo I-ruk’s question, I paused for a moment before bluntly saying,

“Let’s come back when they’re closing up shop.”

Which meant,

“I’ll need to handle this personally.”