Became a Failed Experimental Subject

“Grrrr...”

Why does gukbap taste so damn good?

The crisp snap of jeongguji—or chives, or whatever name that green has depending on who you ask—was so clean, so sharp in its freshness that it lifted the heavy broth like a breeze in a fog.

Though I wasn’t sure if “fresh” was the right word, or maybe it should’ve been “clean,” the truth was that the deep, salty, dense warmth of it all filling my belly left behind a kind of solemn contentment that was almost impossible to describe in words.

“Um... isn’t that hot for you?”

“It’s warm.”

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Even the thick stoneware bowl felt perfect.

It made regulating my strength easier, and the heat—just right—let me keep drinking the broth endlessly.

Ten bowls today.

I held back a little, but maybe because I’d monsterized earlier, I was still hungry.

“Thank you for the meal.”

“Seriously, who slams down gukbap like it’s makgeolli...?”