We had been standing outside the entrance for quite some time.
A married couple sat facing each other in the middle of the empty dining hall.
It hadn't felt right to interrupt their conversation.
"I think we can go in now."
The man standing beside me was the Meat Gangster, who had recently taught my father his cooking techniques.
The restaurant owner had finally noticed us, so he was suggesting that it was time to enter.
Since winning the cooking competition, the Meat Gangster had been keeping himself extremely busy.
I was the one who had contacted him, but I hadn't expected him to become quite so enthusiastic about helping.
All I had wanted was some advice based on his own experience as a Gaon Charcoal Grill franchise owner.
Yet he'd rushed over as soon as his restaurant closed for the day.
That much was fine, but...
This could be dangerous.
Instead of his usual chef's uniform, he was wearing a tracksuit that looked ready to burst at the seams, displaying every muscle on his enormous body.
If a stranger saw him, ninety-nine out of a hundred would probably assume he was a loan shark or a neighborhood gangster.
"Are those really the only clothes you have for going out?"
"I have a black suit too, but I only wear that when I attend funerals. Hahaha."
He laughed with an innocent expression that didn't suit his appearance in the slightest.
Deciding that the tracksuit was probably better than the black suit, I followed him into the restaurant.
Jingle.
The first thing I noticed when we opened the door was the redness around the couple's eyes.
It was a somewhat awkward situation.
I was still wondering how to begin the conversation when the Meat Gangster strode forward and shouted,
"Let's have some meat!"
He's demanding meat right off the bat?
Not a menu.
Just meat?
What kind of meat was he even asking for?
Is this some kind of secret language that only people in the meat business understand?
The restaurant owner, whose eyes had been red just a moment ago, immediately sprang to his feet and guided us to a table.
"Please sit over here. This is the coolest spot in our restaurant."
That actually worked?
I followed the Meat Gangster, who had raised one corner of his mouth in satisfaction, and sat down.
Then the owner asked an even stranger question.
"What kind of meat would you like me to prepare?"
"If we're eating at Gaon, we have to try the aged rib meat. Bring us two servings of that first!"
How fascinating.
Had the owner mistaken the Meat Gangster for a regular customer?
They hadn't even looked at a menu, yet the order had already been placed.
The owner and two other people immediately began moving about in perfect coordination.
"Team Leader? What are you staring at?"
"Good grief. I told you to stop calling me Team Leader, didn't I?"
"Right! You did, didn't you? Hahaha. Then I'll call you President Kang. That's better. You'll be a company president in a year anyway, won't you?"
Who knows?
I had no idea whether I would become a company president or end up unemployed.
For now, the future recorded in the diary pointed toward the latter.
"President Kang, what should I do? Am I supposed to evaluate the owner's skills, just as you mentioned earlier? Determine whether these people are worth helping?"
"It's not so much about whether they're worth helping. Just check whether there are any other problems."
"Understood. Then let's do this. You're the president of a consulting company, and I'm here to film a video for my YouTube channel."
"What? We don't need to make the cover story that detailed..."
"Now, now! A convincing performance requires a thoroughly developed character! From this moment on, you're the president of a consulting company. Understood?"
"Haa... Fine. I understand. Could you just lower your voice?"
The Meat Gangster scratched his head awkwardly and gave me a broad smile.
How could I possibly stay annoyed when he smiled like that?
I was certain this man had never been scolded, not even once during his military service.
After calming the strangely excited Meat Gangster, I slowly looked around the restaurant.
"Take a look over there, President Kang."
His gaze was directed toward the counter.
I couldn't tell what he wanted me to see.
"Do you see that rectangular mark? The wallpaper around it has turned yellow, but that particular spot is still white."
"You're right. It looks like there used to be a small picture frame hanging there."
"Exactly. That's usually where people display something particularly precious. And it looks like they took it down quite recently."
I was beginning to understand what he meant.
"They've taken down something precious because they're preparing to leave?"
The Meat Gangster nodded.
Bringing him along had definitely been the right decision.
"Here are your two servings of aged rib meat. Would you like me to grill them for you?"
"Ahem. Let me see that."
Or perhaps not?
The Meat Gangster practically snatched the cutting board from the owner's hands.
He stared at the meat with such an intimidating expression that even I found him a little frightening.
The owner looked equally flustered.
"Ahem. Did you deliberately cut the meat in this direction?"
"What? Ah... Yes, that's right. It tastes better that way. Is there a problem?"
"There's no problem. Hand me the tongs, please. I'll grill the meat myself."
The Meat Gangster tried to take the tongs from the owner's hand.
But he failed.
"I'm sorry, but that goes against my principles..."
The Meat Gangster produced a black business card and held it out to the bewildered owner.
"Apparently, you don't know who I am. I'm this person."
An unexpected development.
What the Meat Gangster handed over was a business card unlike anything I'd ever received from him.
"What is this...?"
Beside the YouTube logo were several characters.
Yuksakkang.
Meat, person, gangster?
No, that didn't seem right.
"It's a channel where I visit barbecue restaurants and offer one-point cooking lessons. I'm actually quite famous in this field."
"Y-You really don't need to do that..."
"Hahaha. You really don't recognize me, do you? Don't worry. I'm not going to ask you for money or anything like that. Just treat me like an ordinary customer. All I ask is that you let me grill the meat myself."
The owner tilted his head, clearly unable to understand what was happening, before handing over the tongs.
Even after returning to the kitchen, he kept stealing glances in our direction.
But the Meat Gangster was staring at the meat with great interest, seemingly oblivious to everything else.
Meanwhile, my attention was focused on something entirely different.
"Is this business card real? You've been running a channel like this?"
The Meat Gangster shook his head with a solemn expression.
"Not exactly. It's a channel without a single video."
"Then why do you have business cards?"
"Because I was planning to start one. My ex-girlfriend was a television producer, and she suggested I try something like this. That's why I had the cards made. Sob."
Now I remember.
Had it been around dawn about a year ago?
There had been a time when I'd been woken up not by the alarm on my phone, but by a call from the Meat Gangster.
He had been so drunk that he'd mistaken my number for his ex-girlfriend's and called me by accident.
Then he'd spent an entire hour sobbing and pouring his heart out to me, even though I hadn't said a single word in response.
"Was she the one who came up with the name Yuksakkang too?"
"...Yes. It means 'the Gangster Who Loves Meat.'"
It was a pretty good name.
And I could understand why she'd chosen it.
"You still haven't thrown away those business cards?"
"Well, you never know. Maybe one day, we'll meet again... Sob."
This is getting awkward.
The Meat Gangster's eyes were beginning to fill with tears.
Meanwhile, inside the kitchen, Manbok and his wife were so overwhelmed by their nephew's excitement that they could barely think straight.
"Uncle! Uncle! It's him, right? This guy?"
Yeongseok held out his smartphone.
On the screen was a highlight video from the cooking competition that had ended recently.
Apart from his clothes, the man in the video looked exactly like the person sitting in their dining hall.
He was grilling meat with intense concentration, sweat pouring down his face.
"...H-He won the competition?"
"Yes! He's the Meat Gangster! He's incredibly famous!"
"He just looks like an actual gangster to me..."
"Right? There were rumors about that too. Some people said he really was a gangster and started cutting meat to control his anger toward other people..."
"Shh! Keep your voice down! The customer might hear you!"
Manbok hurriedly covered his nephew's mouth.
"But why would someone like him come to our restaurant? There might have been rumors about his past, but he must be incredibly busy right after appearing on television. Did he say anything earlier? Is he really here just to eat meat?"
"Hmm. He gave me this business card. He said he goes around visiting restaurants and teaching people something..."
Yuksakkang.
Yeongseok tilted his head and searched for the unfamiliar name.
"There's nothing here. Maybe he's only just starting the channel. That must be it. A program where he visits struggling restaurants and tries to figure out what's going wrong."
Manbok didn't answer.
Until just a little while ago, he had been determined to close the restaurant.
A program where someone visits struggling restaurants and identifies their problems?
The source of his problem was obvious.
There was a piece of land in the middle of the restaurant's access road.
The person renting that land, whoever he was, had been deliberately interfering with Manbok's business.
And yet Manbok couldn't take his eyes off the gap in the kitchen doorway.
Still... What if?
Manbok stared at Jinhyeok's table before gently pulling his wife closer.
There were too many memories in this restaurant, too many years they had spent building it together, to give up without trying everything they possibly could.
Back at Jinhyeok's table.
Sizzle.
The meat touched the grill.
The Meat Gangster was grilling it while using a toothpick he'd somehow brought along to poke tiny holes in the surface.
Watching his impressive performance, Jinhyeok couldn't help salivating.
But the Meat Gangster seemed entirely unaware of his companion's hunger.
Without paying any attention to Jinhyeok's longing gaze, he placed a thick piece of meat in his mouth and gently closed his eyes.
About ten seconds passed.
Then his eyes suddenly snapped open, and he finally gave his permission.
"Go ahead and try a piece. You'll notice something unusual."
Jinhyeok picked up a piece of meat and placed it in his mouth.
It was delicious.
But that was all.
His standards had risen considerably after tasting the meat prepared by the Meat Gangster and his own father.
"I don't notice anything particularly unusual. What's different about it?"
"Hmm. I see. You must not have tried the rib meat at the other branches."
That was true.
Just because he worked for Seongun didn't mean he had to eat at every single franchise branch.
"First, take a look at the grain of the meat. It isn't cut in this direction when it comes from headquarters."
The Meat Gangster lifted a piece of meat with his tongs and held it upright so Jinhyeok could see.
"Is that important?"
"Of course. Rib meat has thick muscle fibers, so it becomes tough if you slice it along the grain. But when you cut across the grain like this, the fibers become shorter and the meat turns much more tender."
The Meat Gangster used his chopsticks to pull the meat apart as he continued.
"It's easier to chew and digest too. More importantly, the marinade can penetrate deeper into the meat because the cut surfaces are exposed."
"...So you're saying he refused to use the meat sliced by headquarters and cut it himself?"
"Exactly. That means he's doing twice as much work. It looks like he also receives the marinade separately and marinates the meat himself."
Jinhyeok's hand stopped for a moment, his chopsticks still raised.
It had been roughly five years since the Gaon Charcoal Grill Gangnam branch closed.
It was remarkable that the Meat Gangster could still remember the flavor from back then.
"Pay close attention to the flavor. He's added a subtle smoky aroma. It's oakwood."
"You can actually tell?"
"Of course! Do you have any idea how much work goes into a process like this? I'd be ashamed of myself if I couldn't recognize it."
"It's that difficult?"
"If you don't control the charcoal temperature properly, all you get is a burnt smell. This isn't a flavor you can achieve after just one or two failed attempts."
After listening to the expert's explanation, Jinhyeok tried another piece.
He still couldn't tell whether there was an oakwood aroma.
To begin with, he wasn't even sure what an oak tree looked like.
But he couldn't simply dismiss the evaluation of someone who had won a cooking competition.
"What do you think? Should we order something else? The short rib soup I had at lunchtime was pretty good."
The Meat Gangster set down his chopsticks.
"No. There's no need for any further evaluation. I've seen enough."
"Really?"
"Yes. This is a restaurant that shouldn't fail. There's absolutely nothing wrong with the owner. Anyone who comes here will reach the same conclusion. This man is bringing out the very best flavor a franchise restaurant can possibly offer."
The corners of Jinhyeok's mouth curved upward at the Meat Gangster's glowing assessment.
There were so many remarkable people in the world.
Small giants.
And sometimes, all they needed was someone to help them realize just how well they were already doing.
