The morning sun filtered through the large windows of
Flavors of Seoul,
casting a warm glow over the restaurant. I arrived early, as usual, eager to start the day. The previous night had been peaceful, and I was still riding the high of the progress we'd made on the new branch. The thought of expanding our brand filled me with a sense of purpose, and I was determined to make it a success.
As I walked through the dining area, I greeted my staff, who were already bustling about, preparing for the busy day ahead. Chef Kang was in the kitchen, overseeing the prep work with his usual precision. The aroma of freshly chopped herbs and sizzling meat filled the air, creating a comforting backdrop to the morning's activities.
"Good morning, everyone," I called out, smiling as I moved through the space. The team responded with enthusiasm, their energy palpable. It was clear that the news of the new branch had sparked excitement among them. There was a buzz in the kitchen, a collective anticipation for what was to come.
As the morning progressed, however, I began to notice small things going wrong. First, we discovered that a key ingredient for one of our popular dishes was missing. It was something we used daily, and its absence was puzzling. I shrugged it off, thinking it was just a minor oversight. I quickly sent someone to fetch it from a nearby supplier.
Next, a delivery arrived late, throwing off our preparation schedule. Normally, our deliveries were punctual, so this delay was unusual. I felt a twinge of unease but pushed it aside, focusing on getting the kitchen back on track.
Then, during the lunch rush, there was a misunderstanding with a customer's order. It was a small issue, easily rectified, but it added to the growing list of minor annoyances. I kept my composure, addressing each problem as it arose. My staff followed my lead, their confidence in me evident in the way they handled the situation.
Despite these setbacks, I remained calm. I'd dealt with worse in the past, and I knew that running a restaurant meant dealing with the occasional hiccup. However, there was a subtle tension in the air, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. It felt as though something more significant was brewing beneath the surface, waiting to reveal itself.
After lunch, I retreated to my office for a brief moment of respite. The morning had been hectic, and I needed to collect my thoughts. My office was my sanctuary—a quiet space filled with documents, restaurant plans, and my laptop. The walls were adorned with photos of the restaurant's journey, from its humble beginnings to its current success.
I sat down at my desk, opening my laptop to review the latest plans for the new branch. The excitement I felt earlier began to resurface as I imagined the possibilities. We were on the verge of something great, and I was determined to see it through.
Just as I was getting lost in the details, my phone buzzed on the desk. I picked it up, expecting a routine message from one of my suppliers or staff. Instead, I was met with a text from an unknown number. The message was short, but its contents made my heart skip a beat:
"Be careful with the new property. Things aren't always as they seem."
I stared at the screen, trying to process the words. The message was cryptic, its meaning unclear. Was this a prank? Or was someone genuinely trying to warn me? My mind raced with possibilities. Could there be a problem with the new property? Had I overlooked something crucial?
I tried to trace the number, but it was unlisted. Frustration bubbled up inside me as I hit a dead end. I considered showing the message to Yura, but something held me back. I didn't want to worry her, especially not with something so vague. She had enough on her plate with her own work.
Just as I was about to call it a night, my phone buzzed again. Another message from the unknown number:
"Stop your plans for the new branch. This is your final warning."
I stared at the screen, a mix of fear and determination flooding through me. The message was direct, threatening even. Whoever was behind this wanted me to back off, but why? And what would happen if I didn't?
The tension in the room was palpable as I realized that I might be up against more than just a challenging renovation. There was someone out there, someone who didn't want
Flavors of Seoul
to succeed.
I knew I had to find out who was behind this and why they were targeting me. But the real question was: should I tell Yura and risk dragging her into this mess, or should I continue investigating alone?
As I sat in the dim light of my office, staring at the ominous message on my phone, I felt a chill run down my spine. The stakes had just been raised, and I was caught in the middle of a game I didn't fully understand.
But one thing was clear—I wasn't backing down. Not now, not ever. The future of
Flavors of Seoul
depended on it.
I clenched my phone in my hand, the screen glowing ominously in the darkened office. The fear gnawing at me was real, but so was the anger simmering beneath it. Whoever was behind these messages, they clearly underestimated my resolve.
I wasn't the type to be easily intimidated, and if they thought a few cryptic warnings would scare me off, they were wrong. But as much as I wanted to charge ahead and confront this threat head-on, I knew I needed to be smart. Rushing in without a plan could jeopardize everything I'd worked for, including the people who depended on me.
I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves. Tomorrow, I'd start gathering information—talk to the workers, dig deeper into the property's past, and maybe even consult a few trusted contacts. But for now, I needed to rest and clear my mind.
Still, as I stood to leave, the weight of the unknown pressed heavily on my shoulders. There was more at play here than just business, and the thought that I might be stepping into something far darker was impossible to shake.