Alpha Culinary Love

With the final touches nearly complete, the trio took a moment to admire their work. The grandeur of The Rose Manor was impressive on its own elegant chandeliers glittering overhead, rich wood panels lining the walls, and floor-to-ceiling windows framing the breathtaking garden outside. But now, thanks to Jiyeon's obsessive attention to detail, the place had been transformed into something even more stunning. It was as if the entire space had been infused with her culinary vision.

Jiyeon stepped forward, running her hand over one of the linen-draped tables, making a final adjustment to a centerpiece of delicate white lilies arranged in crystal vases. She could already imagine her guests arriving, taking their seats, and marveling over the seven-course menu she had crafted with such care. Every detail mattered, from the soft glow of the candlelight to the perfectly folded napkins, each resembling a lotus flower.

Beside her, Kang stretched his arms above his head, clearly satisfied that his labor was nearly over. "So, Chef, how much longer do we have to stand here admiring the feng shui before we can call it a day?"

Jiyeon shot him a look. "Until I say it's perfect. Which means no cutting corners, Kang. I saw that wonky chair in the back, by the way. Fix it."

Kang groaned. "You've got eyes in the back of your head, don't you?"

"Nope," Jiyeon replied, straight-faced. "Just better standards than you."

Yura, who had been quietly observing, couldn't resist interjecting. "Kang, if you're that tired, maybe you can swap places with one of the waitstaff tomorrow. How do you feel about serving? I hear the uniforms are... breathable."

Kang gave Yura a flat look. "Very funny, Yura. I'm sure I'd look amazing in one of those vests, but I think I'll leave the waiting to the professionals."

Jiyeon chuckled as she turned her attention back to the table settings. "You're safe... for now. But I do need your help figuring out the place cards. These VIPs are picky, and heaven forbid we seat someone too close to their competitor."

"Let them fight it out over dessert," Kang said with a shrug. "I'll bring popcorn."

Yura, ignoring Kang's sarcasm, moved closer to Jiyeon and scanned the list on the tablet in her hand. "I can help with the seating. Half of these people only show up to events like this to remind everyone how important they are. It's all about the hierarchy."

"Hierarchy?" Jiyeon raised an eyebrow. "I'm a chef, not a royal wedding planner. How do you even know this stuff?"

Yura gave her a sly smile. "Darling, I

am

the hierarchy. I've attended enough of these snooze-fests to know who to sit where."

Jiyeon sighed, leaning against the table. "This is the part I hate. I just want people to eat good food. Why does it matter where they sit?"

Kang, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow, chimed in. "Because, Chef, the elites can't survive without their power games. You put one hedge fund manager next to another, and suddenly, they're eyeing each other's net worth like it's a boxing match."

Jiyeon pinched the bridge of her nose. "Great. Just what I need drama over salad forks."

Yura smirked, scrolling through the list. "Don't worry, I've got it under control. I'll make sure the only thing people are fighting over is who gets the last bite of your crème brûlée."

With that, Yura swiftly began rearranging the names, creating a seating chart that only someone deeply entrenched in corporate politics would understand. Jiyeon watched her work for a moment, amused by how easily Yura could navigate the tangled web of personalities and egos.

"You're disturbingly good at this," Jiyeon muttered.

Yura flashed her a wink. "I have many talents."

Kang leaned over, trying to get a peek at the tablet. "Is there going to be a quiz on this later? Because I have no idea who half these people are."

Yura swatted him away. "Don't worry. Just smile, nod, and don't drop anything. That's all you need to do."

Jiyeon crossed her arms, shaking her head with a bemused smile. "So much for my pop-up being about the food."

"Oh, trust me, love," Yura said, her voice softening as she glanced at Jiyeon. "They're coming for the food. The rest is just... theater."

Jiyeon smiled, appreciating Yura's support, but beneath it all, the weight of the Culinary System's mission loomed. No matter how well things seemed to be going on the surface, that invisible deadline was always there, ticking away. And no one not even Yura could understand the pressure that came with it. Not without knowing the truth about the system.

"Alright," Jiyeon said, breaking herself from her thoughts. "Enough about seating. Let's talk about the lighting. I don't want anything too harsh, but it still has to highlight the food. Soft, but not dim. Got it?"

"Lighting," Kang muttered under his breath. "We're really doing this."

Jiyeon shot him a glare. "Yes, we are."

As they walked over to the lighting panel to test different settings, Yura looked at Jiyeon with a hint of mischief in her eyes. "You're really in your element, aren't you?"

Jiyeon turned to face her, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I might be a control freak, but you can't deny I know how to pull off a show."

Yura stepped closer, her gaze softening as she brushed a loose strand of hair from Jiyeon's face. "You do. And it's going to be perfect, just like you always make it."

Kang groaned loudly, dramatically turning away. "If you two start getting mushy again, I swear I'm quitting."

Jiyeon rolled her eyes but couldn't help laughing. "Relax, Kang. I'll save the sappy stuff for later. Now, focus where's the dimmer switch?"

Kang fumbled with the lighting panel, squinting at the array of switches and dials. "You know, there are too many buttons here for something that's just supposed to light up a room."

Jiyeon tapped her foot impatiently. "It's not rocket science, Kang. Just dim it a little—enough to make the room feel intimate but still let people see their food."

"Intimate, huh?" Kang muttered, flipping a switch. The lights dimmed dramatically, casting long shadows across the room. "How about

mysterious

?"

Jiyeon groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm not trying to turn this place into a haunted house. Bring it up, but softly. We want

mood lighting

, not a séance."

Yura chuckled from her position by one of the tables, where she was now adjusting napkin folds for the hundredth time. "I think you're asking too much of him, Jiyeon. I'm not sure Kang even knows what 'mood lighting' means."

"I do too!" Kang protested, twisting another dial. The lights brightened slightly, though the effect was still too harsh. "It's like... uh... lighting that sets the mood. Obviously."

Jiyeon stared at him, unimpressed. "And what mood would that be? Blinding interrogation?"

"Hey, I'm doing my best here," Kang grumbled, flipping a few more switches. The lights flickered, alternating between dim and bright as he struggled to find a balance.

Finally, Yura stepped in. "Move over, Kang. Let the adults handle this."

Kang threw his hands up in exasperation but stepped aside. "Fine, take over. But when this place looks like a club from the '90s, don't say I didn't warn you."

Yura shook her head, suppressing a smile as she adjusted the dimmer switch with ease, creating the soft, golden glow Jiyeon had been envisioning. The chandeliers overhead cast a warm, even light over the tables, highlighting the elegant centerpieces without overpowering the room.

Jiyeon's shoulders relaxed, a small smile of satisfaction appearing on her face. "Perfect. See, Kang? It's not that hard."

Kang squinted at the now-perfect lighting, pretending to be unimpressed. "Yeah, yeah, well... I loosened it up for her."

Yura couldn't help but laugh, giving Kang a playful nudge. "Sure you did, lighting expert."

Jiyeon glanced around, her eyes scanning the room one last time. Everything was finally falling into place. The lighting, the tables, the decorations—it was all exactly as she'd envisioned. Now, the only thing left was the food, and she had full confidence that her dishes would dazzle the guests.

But then, as if the universe couldn't let her have a moment of peace, the door to The Rose Manor burst open, and in came the event's coordinator, a wiry man with glasses too large for his face. His clipboard clutched tightly to his chest like it held the answers to the meaning of life.

"We have a problem," he announced breathlessly, his eyes wide with panic. "A

big

problem."

Jiyeon's heart sank. Of course, there was a problem. There was

always

a problem.

"What now?" she asked, rubbing her temples as if bracing herself for whatever disaster was about to be unleashed.

The coordinator fidgeted, flipping through the pages of his clipboard like they might somehow offer him solace. "The flowers! The delivery is delayed, and the arrangements won't arrive until tomorrow afternoon."

Jiyeon blinked at him, waiting for more. "That's the problem? Flowers?"

Kang let out a snort. "Panic over a few petals? Please, I thought someone was going to tell us the lobsters had escaped or something."

The coordinator's eyes darted nervously between them. "But... the flowers are an integral part of the ambiance! The guests will expect—"

"They'll expect food," Jiyeon cut him off, her voice steady. "The flowers are decorative. The food is the main attraction. If anyone is more concerned about a centerpiece than the seven courses I'm serving, they can leave."

The coordinator's mouth opened and closed, clearly not used to dealing with someone who cared so little for frills and so much for substance. "But the ambiance—"

"Is fine," Yura interrupted, her tone sharp but composed. "We have candles, we have crystal vases, and we have

plenty

of charm. The flowers will be here before the event starts, so we'll manage. You're worrying over nothing."

Jiyeon nodded in agreement. "We can live without flowers for a few hours. I can't cook ambiance, but I can make sure the food is perfect. So, unless there's an actual emergency, I suggest you calm down and let us do our jobs."

The coordinator gulped, clearly out of his depth when it came to dealing with Jiyeon's no-nonsense attitude. "Right. Yes. I'll... I'll handle it."

As he hurried out of the room, Kang let out a low whistle. "He's wound tighter than a soufflé in the oven."

"Tell me about it," Jiyeon muttered, crossing her arms. "If I had to work with him full-time, I'd lose my mind."

Yura smiled, stepping beside Jiyeon and slipping an arm around her waist. "You're good at handling crises. A true chef's talent."

Jiyeon leaned into Yura's touch for a moment, feeling the warmth of her support. "I guess. But I'd rather have no crises at all."

Kang clapped his hands together, breaking the moment. "Alright, if the crisis is averted, can we please take a break? I haven't eaten since... ever."

Jiyeon rolled her eyes. "Always thinking about your stomach, Kang."

"I work for a chef," Kang shot back. "Can you blame me?"

Yura chuckled, turning to Jiyeon. "Maybe we should feed him before he faints on us."

Jiyeon sighed but smiled. "Fine. Let's head to the kitchen. We can make some final checks on the dishes while we're at it."

Kang perked up instantly. "Now you're speaking my language."