The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low

Chapter 253.1

On a day leading up to the Chuseok holiday, Uijae was asked a question by his regular customers: "Will your restaurant be open for Chuseok?" Uijae had responded indifferently.

“Where do small business owners get holidays?”

The Hunters seemed excited. Time passed, and soon the Chuseok holiday arrived. Uijae stood in front of the supermarket display, deep in thought. After all, it was Chuseok, and wasn’t it only right to eat traditional holiday food? He thought about making food for Haeun and his grandmother for the holiday.

‘I could buy it at the market, but wouldn’t it be better if I made it myself?’

Kids love to mess around in the kitchen, don’t they? It was the age of toys infused with real slime, after all. He’d heard that children’s fine motor skills are important, so making *songpyeon* (rice cakes) by hand could be fun for them.

Uijae moved to the large Chuseok display, his expression serious. The display was filled with offerings for ancestral rites, various types of *jeon* (Korean pancakes), and ingredients for *songpyeon*. The first thing Uijae picked up was sesame seeds.

‘Haeun doesn’t like beans, so sesame filling would be better...’

He pulled out his phone and searched for a *songpyeon* recipe. Sesame seeds, sugar, rice flour. Should he also make mugwort *songpyeon*? His grandmother might like that better. And while he was at it, he should fry up some *jeon*. After all, the smell of oil is what really makes the holiday feel special.

‘*Donggeurangttaeng* is a bit boring... What other kinds of *jeon* are there? *Donggeurangttaeng*, *sanjeok*, *dongtaejeon*, zucchini *jeon*... It would look nice to have a variety.’

Without realizing it, Uijae’s hands grew busy as he gathered ingredients. The way he swiftly dropped items into his cart was efficient, leaving no room for excess.

By the time he left the store, both of Uijae’s hands were full.

“Thank you~”

‘...Did I buy too much?’

He was carrying two heavy shopping bags that were stuffed to the brim like Santa’s sack. The strawberry patterns on the bags were stretched to the point of bursting. Uijae looked up at the sky and let out a long sigh as he trudged forward. Well, whatever. If there was too much, he could always serve the leftovers as side dishes at the hangover soup restaurant.

He didn’t realize at the time that this decision would turn out to be a major mistake.

---

*Hiss*— the *jeon* sizzled as they browned on the frying pan. The savory smell of the oil tickled Uijae’s nose, but he couldn’t enjoy it. Holding the spatula, his hand trembled.

‘There’s too much to do…!’

He was handling all the holiday preparations alone, which was difficult even for someone with fast hands. On top of preparing ingredients for the *songpyeon* and *jeon*, he had to get ready for the restaurant’s business later. The *songpyeon* dough and filling were ready, but he hadn’t even touched them yet.

There was no helping it. The dough could rest a bit longer, and the *jeon* could be reheated. He quickly transferred the finished *jeon* onto parchment paper.

‘I’ll finish them after I close the shop…’

He sighed and checked the time. He had been so absorbed in frying the *jeon* that it was almost time to open the restaurant. He couldn’t even air out the smell of oil. Uijae trudged to the door, took down the “Closed” sign, and swapped his flour-dusted apron for a clean, toad-themed one. He washed his hands thoroughly.

Before long, the sliding door rattled open, and a crowd of familiar faces—mostly Hunters—came rushing in.

“Hello!”

“Yes, one moment, please.”

Uijae stuck a pen and order pad in his apron pocket and stepped out of the kitchen. Many of the faces were regulars. Baewon-woo, one of the most loyal, had already eaten two bowls of soup that morning and yet had come back for more. For some reason, Honeybee had joined him this time. Clicking the back of his pen, Uijae spoke.

“Three bowls for Baewon-woo, two for Honeybee, right?”

“Yes, that’s right!”

“That’s right.”

Uijae moved from table to table, taking more orders. Meanwhile, Baewon-woo sniffed the air, his nose twitching.

“But what’s that delicious smell? It doesn’t smell like hangover soup.”

“Right? It smells like *jeon*. It’s Chuseok, after all.”

“No, it smells more like sesame oil… like what you’d smell in a mill.”

‘What a sharp nose…’

How did he even pick up the scent of toasted sesame seeds? Now, the other Hunters started sniffing, clearly intrigued. It seemed like they might come into the kitchen any second. Well, if they were going to find out anyway, better to come clean. Uijae shrugged his shoulders and confessed.

“I toasted some sesame seeds to make *songpyeon* for Haeun. I also fried some *jeon*.”

*Songpyeon*? He said *songpyeon*. He made *jeon* too. No wonder it smelled so good. The murmurs spread quickly among the regulars. A strange sense of anticipation began to fill the air, almost prickling at Uijae’s skin. Just ignore them, he thought, pretending not to notice as he shoved his hands into his apron pockets. Baewon-woo’s eyes sparkled.

“Oh, *songpyeon*! You made them yourself, too?”

“Yeah… I thought Haeun would like it.”

“Are you selling them along with the *jeon*?”

“No, I’m not selling them. I just made them…”

“Can’t you sell them? We didn’t get to eat any Chuseok food.”

The pen in Uijae’s hand froze mid-scribble. He blinked.

“Why couldn’t you eat any?”

There was a brief silence. Just when he thought he shouldn’t have asked, the Hunters burst out with their stories, clamoring to explain.

“We’ve been raiding dungeons since morning!”

“I was busy dealing with the rift that appeared near the intersection.”

“I had to gather some leather by today. Can’t even rest on holidays, it seems.”

“Rifts don’t care about holidays.”

“I didn’t want to go home and deal with my mom nagging me about getting married.”

“Looks like I won’t be going back to my hometown this year either.”

Yang Hyejin, a Hunter working for the Rift Management Agency, sighed. She was still wearing her bright neon-green safety vest, and the Hunters seated around her nodded fervently. It was so common to see them in their work gear that Uijae hadn’t realized they were still dressed like that, even on Chuseok.

Come to think of it, Uijae hadn’t had much of a holiday when he was working as a Hunter either. If his aunt hadn’t made him *tteokguk* and *songpyeon*, he probably would have forgotten about the holiday entirely.

“...”

Sa-young would have laughed at him, saying he brought this on himself. But even so, Uijae couldn’t stop the words from slipping out.

“…Would you like to make the *songpyeon* yourselves?”

“What?”

“I’ve only prepared the ingredients but haven’t started yet. I don’t have enough time to make them for everyone, but if you want, I can steam them for you after you make them.”

“Wow! That sounds great!”

“You’re the best, Uijae!”

Cheers and applause erupted from the Hunters, their voices rising excitedly.

“Wow... I can’t even remember the last time I made *songpyeon*.”

“We always bought them at my house.”

“I think I made them in kindergarten.”

“You actually remember that?”

“What shape should I make?”

“Are you planning to sculpt something out of *songpyeon*?”

The Hunters began chattering among themselves, their childlike excitement both amusing and heartwarming. Uijae turned back toward the kitchen, his lips curling into a faint smile as he went to prepare.

---

With a heavy thud, a fist punched into the soft, white dough. Uijae looked up at the ceiling and sighed deeply.

‘I shouldn’t have done this.’

It didn’t take long for Uijae to regret his decision. Sure, watching the Hunters happily make *songpyeon* like children was great. It made him feel proud, and it gave the holiday a festive atmosphere.

The problem arose from the popularity of the hangover soup restaurant. It was a hotspot for Hunters, and Hunters never took holidays off. In other words, even during Chuseok, there were many customers looking for hangover soup.

But what happens when the usual quick eat-and-go customers linger at the restaurant, making *songpyeon*?

“Hey, hurry up and come out!”

“We condemn those hogging tables just because they got here first!”

“We want to make *songpyeon* too!”

“I’m starving!”

Outside, a group of Hunters had started a protest, shaking their fists. This experiment was officially over. Uijae, ignoring the commotion outside, quietly roasted sesame seeds in the kitchen. This wasn’t

 the kind of social experiment he had hoped for. And for some reason, they were so enthusiastic about making *songpyeon* that he had to keep making more dough in real-time because they were running out.

‘I’m exhausted.’

Honestly, he would have rather taken up a spear and fought a Kraken. That seemed like it would be less tiring.

At that moment, the protest noises outside began to die down. A tense silence took its place. Uijae instinctively knew the cause. Only two people could silence such noisy Hunters so quickly: Jeongbin or Lee Sa-young.

The sound of the sliding door opening reached Uijae’s ears. With his eyes closed, he took a deep breath, bracing himself for the inevitable. He didn’t bother to check who it was, just waited for fate to take its course. Then, he stepped out of the kitchen and spoke.

“Welcome—”

“Ah, hello.”

Jeongbin stood by the door, smiling brightly. Thank goodness! Before Uijae could relax, Jeongbin stepped aside. In the doorway, a dark silhouette appeared, followed by the entrance of a figure in a black gas mask. The eyes behind the mask narrowed slightly. Uijae clenched his eyes shut.

‘It’s both of them!’

Honeybee raised an eyebrow from where he was expertly shaping *songpyeon*.

“What’s with you two?”

Jeongbin laughed lightly and said,

“We received a report about some rowdy Hunters. But... are you selling *songpyeon* instead of hangover soup today?”

“You make *songpyeon*, and Uijae steams them for us.”

“Ah, right. It is Chuseok, after all…”

Judging by his tone, Jeongbin hadn’t even realized it was Chuseok. Uijae looked at his former colleague with pity in his eyes.

“Do you want to join us?”

Someone offered Jeongbin a ball of dough. He blinked, wide-eyed, then laughed, covering his mouth with his hand.

“If it’s alright for me to join. But first, I’ll take care of the situation outside.”

Jeongbin glanced at Uijae, as if asking if it was okay. Of course, Uijae nodded so vigorously that it looked like his head might fall off. Please, take care of them, he was practically begging. Jeongbin smiled and stepped outside, phone in hand.

Meanwhile, Baewon-woo, carefully shaping the corners of his *songpyeon*, turned to Sa-young.

“What brings you here?”

“I was with Jeongbin, doing some work together.”

His lazy voice hit Uijae’s ears like a sharp jab. He was probably smirking, too.

“I came along because it seemed fun.”

‘It’s not fun at all, you jerk.’

Whether Sa-young noticed Uijae glaring at him or not, he strolled leisurely over to Baewon-woo’s table. Just then, a Hunter who had finished making a rabbit-shaped *songpyeon* stood up, offering their seat to Sa-young. Sa-young sat down and, looking at the white dough, propped his chin on his hand.

“I want to make one too.”

“What? You sure you’re up for it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

From the moment Sa-young had stepped into the restaurant, Uijae had mentally prepared for this. He had even run through simulations in his head. Without hesitation, Uijae went to the kitchen and returned with two pairs of plastic gloves and an apron. He thrust them at Sa-young, who sat with his legs crossed. His violet eyes flicked between Uijae’s hand and his face. Uijae spoke gruffly.

“Put these on.”

If he wore the plastic gloves over his protective ones, there’d be no risk of poison contamination. Uijae had nearly slipped into his usual casual tone but quickly added formal endings, given that Baewon-woo and the other Hunters were around. He didn’t feel comfortable speaking casually in front of them. Sa-young let out a low, amused laugh and accepted the gloves and apron. As he pulled the plastic gloves over his black ones, he continued to watch Uijae.

“...Thanks?”

Laughter danced in Sa-young’s violet eyes. Uijae, feeling awkward, quickly looked away.

---

Jeongbin, who had gone outside, managed to calm the protesting Hunters and even rented some plastic tables and chairs from a nearby convenience store. Of course, the Guildmaster of Pado Guild generously covered the rental fee. Once the waiting Hunters were seated and making *songpyeon* outside, peace seemed to have finally returned.

Except for Uijae.

---

Late into the night, Uijae crouched in the now-quiet restaurant kitchen. The steamer on the stove let out a steady *hiss* as steam escaped.

Once they got the hang of it, the Hunters had gotten quite enthusiastic about making *songpyeon*. They had made so many that it wasn’t possible to steam them all at once. Realizing this would take all night, Uijae had chased the Hunters out after they finished making their *songpyeon*.

‘I’ll steam them tonight and give them to you tomorrow.’

The Hunters had left reluctantly, grumbling, “Really? I’ll come back tomorrow,” and, “Please take care of my dinosaur-shaped one.”

Uijae stood up and carefully opened the steamer lid. A cloud of white steam billowed out, revealing the glossy, perfectly cooked *songpyeon*. Neatly shaped *songpyeon*—the crescent-shaped one was Jeongbin’s, the dumbbell-shaped one was Baewon-woo’s, the shiny one was Honeybee’s, the bear-shaped one was Bulgomi’s, and the dinosaur-shaped one belonged to Yang Hyejin’s new recruit. And then...

“...”

Uijae picked up a *songpyeon* that had been set aside. He held it gingerly. It was a beautifully made crescent moon shape. Sa-young had said it was his first time making *songpyeon*, yet it was perfectly shaped with no cracks.

‘Of course, it looks perfect.’

After finishing his *songpyeon*, Sa-young had stood up with no sign of lingering regret and left easily, unlike the others. Before leaving the restaurant, though, he had leaned toward Uijae and whispered.

‘I made that one for you. A gift.’

I don’t need it.

‘Why? Afraid it’s poisoned?’

...

‘Try it. I made it look nice.’

“…It really does look nice.”

Uijae held the crescent-shaped *songpyeon* up to the light, then blew on it softly before taking a small bite. The warm, chewy rice dough gave way to the sweet, nutty sesame filling. He let out a quiet sigh as a smile spread across his tired face.

“…It’s delicious.”

Poison? What poison? It was perfectly fine.

After finishing off Sa-young’s *songpyeon*, Uijae stretched his arms wide, feeling refreshed. Another warm Chuseok day was coming to a close.