Alpha Culinary Love

Jiyeon smiled, appreciating Yura's support, but the weight of the system's deadline gnawed at the back of her mind. No matter how helpful Yura was with the guest list or how much she encouraged her, Yura would never understand the relentless pressure Jiyeon was under. Not without knowing the truth about the Culinary System, a secret Jiyeon intended to take to her grave.

"I need to head to the restaurant," Jiyeon said, breaking the brief silence. "I've got some dishes to perfect. No more distractions."

Yura raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter with that annoying but oddly charming smirk of hers. "Distractions? Sweetheart, I'm your

inspiration

. You couldn't cook without me."

Jiyeon rolled her eyes. "Inspiration, my ass. If I stayed here any longer, we'd both end up burnt out and hungry."

Yura chuckled, pushing off the counter to walk Jiyeon to the door. "Fine, go on then. But don't overdo it. I don't need you collapsing in the middle of your masterpiece."

Jiyeon didn't bother responding to that. Instead, she threw a playful glare over her shoulder before slipping out of the mansion and heading to her restaurant,

Flavor of Seoul

. As much as Yura's teasing got under her skin sometimes, there was a warmth in their banter. Still, Jiyeon was ready to be alone with her thoughts, to focus on what truly mattered now: the food.

At the restaurant, the kitchen was already buzzing with activity, her team moving like a well-oiled machine. But Jiyeon didn't have time to marvel at their efficiency. She had to finalize the menu for the pop-up dinner. Each dish needed to be flawless, from the kimchi-stuffed escargot to the matcha and black sesame mille-feuille.

Chef Kang was waiting for her when she arrived, his arms crossed as he leaned against the stainless steel counter. "Finally decided to show up, huh? Thought you'd let me handle all the hard work today."

Jiyeon shot him a look. "Yeah, right. Like I'd trust you to not mess with my menu."

Chef Kang snorted. "Mess with it? I'd improve it."

"Improve it?" Jiyeon scoffed, grabbing an apron and tying it around her waist. "If by 'improve' you mean 'turn it into a disaster,' then sure."

Chef Kang grinned, but his expression quickly turned serious as they walked over to the prep table, where the ingredients for the night's test run were neatly laid out.

"So, we're really doing this fancy shit, huh?" he said, eyeing the lobster jeon with some skepticism. "Lobster and jeon. Seems a little... extra."

Jiyeon smirked, pulling a knife from the rack. "That's the point. This isn't some mom-and-pop restaurant dinner. It's a showcase, Kang. I want them to walk away thinking they've tasted the future of Korean cuisine."

Kang grumbled under his breath but started chopping vegetables. "Fine. But if some rich asshole complains that it's too exotic, I'm telling them it was all your idea."

Jiyeon snorted. "Trust me, they'll love it. Or I'll make them love it. Now, let's go over the menu again."

They started with the

kimchi-stuffed escargot

. Jiyeon took a deep breath, watching as her team plated the first test batch. It looked... good, but she wasn't aiming for good. It had to be perfect. She leaned in, examining the balance of kimchi and snail meat, and then took a careful bite.

Chef Kang raised an eyebrow, waiting for her verdict.

"It's... missing something," Jiyeon muttered, chewing thoughtfully.

"You think?" Kang scoffed. "It's a snail stuffed with fermented cabbage. Maybe it's missing some dignity."

Jiyeon shot him a glare. "Stuff it, Kang. I'm serious. It needs more punch—like, a deeper heat."

Kang threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let's up the spice. Maybe throw in a little more gochugaru. I mean, we don't want to scare these delicate elites off, but we're not holding back, right?"

Jiyeon nodded. "Exactly. We're not catering to their bland palates. They're here for

my

food, and my food isn't holding back."

Next came the

gochujang-infused coq au vin

. Jiyeon watched as her sous-chef, Hana, stirred the pot, the rich aroma of wine and gochujang filling the air.

"This one's going to kill them," Jiyeon said, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

Kang leaned over the pot, taking a deep whiff before grimacing. "Yeah, kill them with flavor—or with a heat stroke. You sure we're not overdoing it with the gochujang?"

Jiyeon rolled her eyes. "If they can't handle a little spice, they can get the hell out. This is

Korean

coq au vin. It's supposed to burn a little."

Kang shrugged. "Your funeral. You think Yura's gonna back you up when some billionaire's crying into his wine?"

Jiyeon grinned wickedly. "Yura will probably be laughing harder than me."

As they moved through the rest of the dishes, Jiyeon's confidence grew. The

lobster jeon

was crisp and light, the

matcha and black sesame mille-feuille

was delicate yet bold, and the

spicy escargot

had just the right amount of fire.

But it was the

truffle jeon

that was giving her the most trouble. Jiyeon stared at the plate in front of her, the golden-brown pancake gleaming with just the faintest hint of truffle oil.

"It's good," she muttered, "but is it

enough

?"

Kang, who was already munching on a piece, shrugged. "Tastes fine to me. What's the problem?"

"

Fine

isn't good enough," Jiyeon snapped. "It needs to be more... I don't know. Elevated."

Kang raised an eyebrow. "Elevated? It's a jeon, Jiyeon. You're not turning it into some Michelin star soufflé. It's a pancake. People love pancakes."

Jiyeon shot him a glare. "This isn't IHOP, Kang. It has to stand out."

He sighed, putting the half-eaten piece back on the plate. "Look, just drizzle a little more truffle oil on top. Fancy people love that stuff. They'll think you're a genius."

Jiyeon groaned, rubbing her temples. She was about to argue when the

ding

of the system echoed in her head.

[Mission reminder: 1 day left to finalize the pop-up dinner preparations.]

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she muttered to herself.

Kang frowned. "You talking to me, or did you finally lose it?"

"Shut up, Kang," Jiyeon snapped, glaring at him. "Just... give me a minute."

She closed her eyes, trying to push away the stress. The system's pressure was relentless, but she couldn't afford to crumble now. Not when she was this close.

Taking a deep breath, she focused back on the truffle jeon. It wasn't about doing more—it was about doing it

right

. She adjusted the balance of the truffle oil, adding just a hint of acidity with a squeeze of lemon, and suddenly the dish felt... complete.

"There," she said, a small smile creeping onto her face. "Now it's ready."

Kang took another bite, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Huh. Not bad, chef. You might actually pull this off."

Jiyeon smirked. "Damn right, I will."

After hours of prep, Jiyeon finally felt a weight lift off her shoulders. The dishes were ready, the flavors were balanced, and everything felt... right. But there was still one more thing to tackle—the decor.

Jiyeon glanced at the clock. It was late, but she couldn't afford to skip this step. The venue at The Rose Manor needed to match the sophistication of her food, and she wouldn't settle for anything less than perfection.

"Alright," she said, turning to Kang. "Let's go over the decor. We're not just feeding these people; we're giving them an experience."

Kang groaned. "Oh great. Now you're Martha Stewart."

Jiyeon ignored him, grabbing a notebook and flipping to the sketches she'd made earlier. "We're going with a sleek, modern theme. Lots of dark wood, low lighting. I want it to feel intimate but not too pretentious."

Kang looked unimpressed. "Sounds... fine. But what's the point? These people are here for the food, not the ambiance."

Jiyeon shot him a look. "Do you have any idea how much rich people care about ambiance? Trust me, if the lighting's off or the table settings aren't fancy enough, they'll spend the whole night bitching about it."

Kang sighed. "Fine. But if you start talking about centerpieces, I'm out."

Jiyeon grinned. "Oh, we're

definitely

talking about centerpieces."

He groaned dramatically, but Jiyeon knew he secretly enjoyed these challenges as much as she did. Together, they worked through the details, from the minimalist floral arrangements to the carefully curated playlist that would set the mood.

Jiyeon tapped her pen against the notebook, her eyes scanning over the sketches. "Alright, for the centerpieces, I'm thinking something subtle but elegant. No massive floral arrangements—just small, refined touches."

Kang leaned against the counter, eyeing her skeptically. "You know these people love their over-the-top crap. You sure they won't complain if they don't have flowers spilling off the tables?"

Jiyeon waved off his concern. "Trust me, simplicity is key. We'll use low glass vases with a single orchid, maybe a sprig of greenery, and soft candlelight. It's classy but understated. The food is the star, not some giant floral explosion."

Kang shrugged. "As long as it's not me arranging orchids, I'm fine with it."

Jiyeon laughed. "Don't worry, I've got a florist coming in for that. Your job is to make sure the tables are set perfectly—clean lines, no wrinkles in the linens, and those fancy silver chargers we rented need to be polished until they shine."

Kang gave her a look of mock horror. "You're really going all out for this, huh?"

Jiyeon raised an eyebrow. "This isn't some casual dinner. It's a showcase, and I want everything to scream elegance—without being obnoxious."

He snorted. "Good luck finding that balance."

Ignoring him, Jiyeon turned her attention to the lighting. "The key will be in the atmosphere. Low lighting, warm tones. We don't want it too dark, but I want it to feel intimate. Like they're stepping into something exclusive."

Kang rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah, yeah, alright. That could work. You make it sound almost doable."

"Because it is," Jiyeon said, grinning. "We're going to blow them away."