Chapter 10

He took another bite of tteokbokki and slowly chewed before pulling his chair closer to the table.

Even while eating, Jo Miwon’s chopsticks never stopped moving. He covered his mouth, his expression lighting up with delight.

“No way. This is insane. It’s so good.”

In no time, he cleaned the entire plate and looked at me with wide eyes full of awe.

“You came up with this recipe?”

“Yeah. Tastes good, right?”

He nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling.

“It’s amazing. I’ve never had tteokbokki like this. You’re seriously a genius, you know that?”

Ignoring his exaggerated praise, I smiled calmly and quietly placed a small item on the table.

Miwon looked down at it, curious.

A small box, simple but eye-catching in design.

He reached for it, then looked at me with an inquisitive gaze.

“What’s this?”

“The good thing I promised you earlier.”

He opened the box slowly, curiosity written all over his face.

And the moment he saw what was inside, his eyes widened.

“An… ASMR mic?”

“Yeah. You know what that is?”

“Not really. What’s ASMR?”

“ASMR is when your brain reacts to certain sounds. Some people feel relaxed or calm just from hearing specific noises.”

“What kind of sounds?”

“Like the sound of brushing paper, or a pencil scratching lightly across the page. When people hear those, it makes them feel oddly comfortable.”

He seemed to think for a while, then snapped his fingers.

“Right. I think I’ve seen a few videos like that on ShowTube.”

“Remember how we talked about broadcasting? I thought this might help you.”

He picked up the mic, examining it from every angle, and raised an eyebrow.

“But isn’t this expensive?”

“Consider it a gift for finishing your service.”

“I didn’t even get you anything…”

“You bought the drinks last time.”

That night we drank together, I’d spent hours thinking about what could help him.

Then the idea hit me. ASMR.

It had started gaining attention in Korea around the early 2010s and would explode in popularity by 2016.

Back then, it was mostly whispering, tapping, and crinkling sounds, but later it merged with mukbang content.

If Miwon got into it early, he could easily become one of the first ASMR mukbang creators.

Whether his channel succeeded or failed would depend on him, but I had faith he’d make it work.

“So how do you even use this thing for broadcasting?”

“You use it while you eat.”

“How’s that related to mukbang?”

“Very much so. The sound of chewing, drinking, crunching chips… all of that becomes content.”

“Oh, I get it.”

“People don’t just want to see someone eat. They want to feel the moment. The chewy sound of tteokbokki, the slurp of soup… that’s what they crave.”

He rolled the mic between his fingers and looked at me curiously.

“Why are you so invested in my broadcasting all of a sudden? You even bought me this.”

I shrugged lightly as if it were no big deal.

“Because you talk well and eat even better. You’ve got potential, that’s all.”

He looked doubtful but soon grinned.

“Well, thanks anyway. I appreciate it.”

* * *

The next morning, just as the sun rose, Jo Miwon slowly sat up, fighting off his drowsiness.

The house was quiet. His family was still asleep.

Moving carefully to avoid making noise, he packed his bag and slipped outside.

A cool breeze brushed against his face, waking him up.

The streets were already busy with people hurrying to work.

He kept his head down as he made his way to the study hall he’d been visiting.

After his discharge, he had felt completely lost.

In the army, he thought he could do anything once he was free. But reality was different.

‘What do I even want to do?’

The same question kept looping in his mind.

Meanwhile, Kang Chan already seemed to know exactly what he wanted.

Unlike him, no matter how hard Miwon thought about it, nothing came to mind.

So he took the safest path he could think of.

Civil service exam prep.

It was stable and seemed like a choice with little risk.

At the study hall, he went to his usual corner seat, opened his book, and picked up his pen.

But the words on the page wouldn’t sink in. The more pages he turned, the emptier his head felt.

He sighed and bowed his head.

‘Why am I even doing this?’

The question echoed again, unanswered. He shook his head, forcing himself to focus.

“Just concentrate.”

Time passed, and before he knew it, the sun had started to set.

Stretching his arms, he looked around. The study hall was still silent.

Packing up, he stepped outside.

The scent of food from nearby restaurants drifted through the air.

“I’m starving.”

He licked his lips and suddenly thought of one place.

Chani’s Snack Bar.

After tasting Kang Chan’s rose tteokbokki for the first time, he had come back three days in a row.

The creamy sauce and chewy texture of the rice cakes had stuck in his memory.

He couldn’t forget that taste.

Without thinking, his feet carried him there again.

When he opened the door, Kang Chan was working behind the counter. Seeing him, Kang Chan smiled.

“Back again?”

“Yeah. I was hungry. How many servings of tteokbokki do you have left?”

“About… ten? Why?”

When Kang Chan tilted his head, Miwon replied casually,

“Then pack them all for me.”

“All of them? You’re gonna eat ten servings by yourself?”

“Yup.”

He shrugged like it was nothing, making Kang Chan laugh as he began to prepare the order.

Soon, Kang Chan handed him a warm bag full of freshly cooked tteokbokki.

Miwon took it and hurried home.

The house was quiet when he arrived, his parents not yet back from work.

He tossed his bag and jacket onto a chair and sat down at his desk out of habit.

Turning on his computer, he unwrapped the tteokbokki.

It had cooled down a bit in the cold weather.

It would’ve tasted better hot, but he was too hungry to bother reheating it.

He picked up a wooden chopstick and put a piece in his mouth, chewing slowly.

Still delicious, even cold.

As the computer booted up, he logged into Play Live, one of the biggest streaming platforms that had recently taken off.

The homepage was flooded with live broadcasts.

Dance streams, game streams, mukbang streams.

Anyone could go live with just a few basic tools, and the sheer variety of content had attracted millions.

He clicked on a mukbang stream.

On-screen, a BJ chatted effortlessly with viewers while eating.

Miwon kept eating his tteokbokki while watching.

At first, he couldn’t understand the appeal. Why watch someone else eat? Why were so many people obsessed with it?

But after listening to Kang Chan and watching a few videos out of curiosity, he started to get it.

The way people ate on camera had a strange pull to it.

The sounds and slurping, the look of bliss after a big bite, everything about it drew you in.

It was oddly satisfying, like tasting the food yourself.

Still, he preferred eating over watching.

As he thought that, his gaze fell on the ASMR mic sitting on his desk.

It was the one Kang Chan had given him days ago.

He’d set it up but never actually used it.

He had no idea how to start broadcasting.

He ran his fingers over the mic absentmindedly while staring at the screen.

Just then, the BJ on the stream smiled and said softly,

“Why did I start streaming? Well… I just love eating, that’s all.”

Miwon’s hand froze.

Because I love eating?

It sounded simple, almost too simple. But for some reason, those words hit him deeply.

He thought back to how he used to be.

When he liked something, he went for it. No hesitation.

Even if he failed, he didn’t care. He just moved on to the next thing.

But somewhere along the way, that changed.

Responsibility.

He’d started believing that every choice had to bear weight, that he had to account for everything.

That pressure had built up until it held him back completely.

But now, a thought crossed his mind.

‘Starting a stream isn’t going to destroy my life. So why am I hesitating?’

It was as if a fog had lifted from his head.

Eyes brightening, he typed quickly on the keyboard.

After some thought, he chose a nickname. Logic King Jo Miwon.

When he pressed the start button, a red LIVE icon blinked on the screen.

He scratched his head and looked at the empty chat window.

No messages. Viewer count: zero.

‘Well, it’s not like anyone would show up right away.’

Shrugging, he picked up his chopsticks.

The smell of warm sauce and rice cakes rose up invitingly.

The chewy texture and creamy rose flavor filled his mouth.

“Tastes good, even cold.”

He murmured to himself and kept eating.

Then he noticed something through his headphones.

The sound of his chewing came through vividly.

Each bite echoed clearly through the mic.

He tried again, gently biting into another piece.

The chewy texture produced a sound so real it felt alive.

He marveled at how something so ordinary could sound so captivating.

Lost in the rhythm of eating, he finally lifted his head after a while.

Viewers: 1.

His eyes lingered on the small number in the corner of the screen, twitching slightly.