Supernatural Chef

Chapter 1: Pilot

The crisp evening air wrapped around me like a comforting embrace as I stood on the bustling platform of Seoul's busy train station. The soft glow of the city lights danced around, casting a warm golden hue on the surroundings. The chatter of the crowd merged into a harmonious symphony of urban life, filling the air with a vibrant energy.

As I waited for my train stop, I found myself humming the lyrics to my favorite song, a catchy tune that never failed to lift my spirits. "I'm sorry Miss Jackson~, I am for real~" I sang softly under my breath, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. The melody intertwined with the sounds of the bustling station, creating a unique soundtrack to my evening commute.

As the train glided into the station with a gentle hiss of brakes, I stepped inside, feeling a surge of excitement for the job interview that awaited me. The carriage was a mix of scents—coffee, sweat, and a hint of something sweet—creating a unique blend that somehow felt like the essence of Seoul itself.

Finding a seat by the window, I gazed out at the passing cityscape, watching as the buildings grew taller and the lights more dazzling. The rhythmic clacking of the train on the tracks provided a soothing backdrop to my thoughts, lulling me into a reflective mood.

Lost in my contemplation, I didn't notice the figure that slid into the seat beside me until a voice broke through my reverie. "Yo excuse me, is this seat taken?" The voice was smooth but deep, with a hint of coldness.

I turned to see a striking man with short, spiky black hair, bright red eyes and sharp, defined features. "No, it's all yours," I replied, trying to sound cool.

As the train lurched forward, the man beside me shifted slightly, his piercing gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside. I couldn't help but steal glances at him, intrigued by his mysterious aura.

After a moment of silence, he turned to me. "New to Seoul, huh? You don't seem like you're from around here," he remarked, his voice smooth like velvet.

I chuckled nervously, feeling a surge of adrenaline at the unexpected conversation. "Yeah, just moved here for a job. It's all so exciting and different," I replied, my words tumbling out in a rush.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "What kind of job brings you to this bustling city?" he inquired, his tone almost interested.

I hesitated for a moment, contemplating how much to reveal. "I got a job at a restaurant. It's nothing fancy, just a start," I admitted, feeling a bit self-conscious under his intense scrutiny.

The man nodded thoughtfully, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. "Ah, I see." he mused cryptically, as if speaking from experience.

Curiosity gnawed at me, and I couldn't help but ask, "Do you work in the food industry too?"

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "You could say that. I dabble in a different.....kind of cuisine," he replied enigmatically, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Before I could inquire further, the train screeched to a halt, announcing my stop. I gathered my belongings, preparing to disembark. As I stood up, the man turned to me, his gaze intense.

"Good luck at your job interview. Remember, Seoul is a city of surprises. Embrace them," he said cryptically, his words lingering in the air like a haunting melody.

With a nod of thanks, I replied, "Thanks, also I dig the contact lenses!" The words slipped out casually, but my mind was far from at ease. Stepping off the train, the encounter with the mysterious man replayed in my mind like a haunting melody, each note laced with intrigue and curiosity.

As the doors slid shut behind me, I couldn't shake the feeling of his piercing gaze still lingering on me. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine, a strange mix of creepy and unease coiling in the pit of my stomach. Seoul's bustling energy surrounded me once more, but my thoughts were tethered to the enigmatic man I had just encountered.

Glancing back through the glass, I caught a final glimpse of the man. His sharp features were etched with a deep stare without blinking, his eyes still fixed on me as if unraveling a mystery. Our brief interaction had left me with more questions than answers, a sense of foreboding settling over me like a heavy cloak.

The man looked at me as I left, his gaze unfathomable. "Interesting....I wonder if it's that restaurant...." he muttered to himself. With a smirk, he took a sip from the bottle before returning his focus to the skyline outside.
***
When I arrived at the restaurant, I was greeted by a friendly waiter, who led me to the hostess stand. After receiving my reservation, she informed me the chef would be ready shortly.
"Would you like anything to drink while waiting?" he asked me.

Taking a quick look around the small restaurant, I saw there were only two other customers. I pointed to a glass of wine with a shrug and a small smile. "A glass of wine please," I said.

"Would you like a glass of REAL red wine?" he asked with a slight tilt of his head. I looked at him confused, "What's that??"
The waiter looked at me for a second the smiled. "Nevermind, I'll be back shortly with your....wine sir~"

I waited impatiently for the wine. Just when I was starting to feel bored, the waiter returned with my bottle of wine. He set it down on the table along with a small napkin. "Enjoy."
After thanking him, I picked up the wine, swirling the liquid around the glass. I held it up and sniffed it before taking a tentative sip.

It was fruity and flavorful; perfect for a chilly night out. Setting the glass aside, I noticed my wine seemed to linger a bit longer than the average red wine.
As the time ticked away and I continued waiting patiently for the chef, the familiar clanging of pots and pans and the clink of plates filled the air.

Eventually, a middle aged man wearing a chef's hat and apron strolled across the room towards me. "Hello, welcome to Seolhwa Restaurant! I am Jackie Po-Wong. Please follow me. We have some things we need to discuss," he said.

I glanced around the restaurant, noticing that several diners were staring curiously at us. I followed him to a cozy booth near the door, a wide variety of dishes placed neatly along its length.

"How many people are working tonight?" I asked, eager to learn more about the restaurant.
"Only one person right now." He replied.
I gave him a puzzled look. "Who does the rest of the waitstaff work for?"

Jackie sighed and shook his head. "We do not hire a full staff, since our kitchen has very little demand and therefore requires fewer personnel for our jobs. In exchange, they take on the responsibility of serving the restaurant. There should be six or seven people working on shift tonight, depending on their skill level. Some of them have been working here for years, others are new hires.