The Burnt Yakgwa Jelly Challenge showed no signs of stopping.
At the factory, yakgwa were stamped out all day long,
and shipped across the country.
It took over YouTube,
and conquered online communities.
Whenever people gathered, they naturally started talking about Burnt Yakgwa Jelly.
They made it and tried it.
Every time, incredulous laughter burst out.
More and more videos were uploaded.
The pattern was the same, but it never grew boring.
Every moment was entertaining, and every attempt felt fresh.
Then some people appeared who drove the final nail into the coffin.
The world-famous idol group NBT.
Among them,
NBT’s eldest member, Yoon Siwoo,
main vocalist Kang Hajun,
and youngest member Seo Doyoon sat down in front of the camera.
They would occasionally do surprise livestreams as fan service.
Their agency would have been horrified if they found out, but every now and then, the members enjoyed such little acts of rebellion.
Fans loved their easygoing and candid sides.
The livestream began quietly.
In what appeared to be someone’s living room, a portable gas burner, a pot, and a few cooking utensils had been set out.
Yoon Siwoo looked at the camera and spoke first.
“Today, we’re going to try cooking. We’re going to make the hottest thing around these days—Burnt Yakgwa Jelly…”
“Hyung. Are we really doing this?”
The youngest member, Seo Doyoon, cut in.
His voice trembled faintly.
He looked a little frightened.
Yoon Siwoo teased him.
“Why? Getting cold feet?”
“No… It’s not that I’m scared. It’s just… I feel like we shouldn’t be doing this.”
Main vocalist Kang Hajun joined in.
“What’s wrong with it? Are we doing something bad? We’re only going to eat a dessert.”
“Right. It’s just a dessert. Don’t overthink it. You just have to eat it.”
Yoon Siwoo spoke as if reassuring him.
With an awkward grip, Yoon Siwoo chopped up the yakgwa.
Some large chunks remained here and there, but it didn’t seem like a major problem.
“Then we put it in milk, add sugar and spices…”
When the youngest saw him pouring in the sugar, he squeezed his eyes shut.
It looked like more than he could bear.
“Hyung. I don’t think this is right. Let’s stop here. I really think we need to stop.”
“Why?”
“This isn’t right. Hyung, you know I’m watching my diet. I’ve lived on chicken breasts and broccoli since I was fifteen. I’ve never seen or heard of anything like this.”
Yoon Siwoo paused before speaking.
“Doyoon. I know how well you endure things. The hardship, the hunger. That’s why you need to challenge yourself now. You have to take on a challenge before you can either fail or succeed. A challenge is a door that opens up a new world.”
“Hyung. I think there’s more sugar in this than I’ve eaten in my entire life.”
Seo Doyoon spoke anxiously as he stared at the bag of sugar.
But Yoon Siwoo paid him no attention and spread cream cheese over the thinly flattened paste.
“It’s okay to rebel once in a while. Let’s have a taste of the devil. There. It’s almost done.”
Yoon Siwoo said it with an evil grin.
He seemed to be enjoying the thought of teasing his little brother.
He sprinkled a generous amount of brown sugar over the tightly rolled cylinder, then began torching it.
Seo Doyoon turned his head away, as if he couldn’t bear to watch.
Sizzle.
The sugar began to burn, and smoke rose into the air.
In an instant, the atmosphere changed.
It was sweet, but dangerous.
Seo Doyoon frowned.
“Hyung… I feel like I’m committing a sin.”
Yoon Siwoo turned off the torch.
“It’s done. Try it.”
He held out a beautifully made piece of Burnt Yakgwa Jelly.
The plate was arranged with the dessert in an appealing manner.
Seo Doyoon shook his head.
“I’m telling you to try it.”
“Hyung. I don’t think I can eat this. I appreciate you making it, but… I don’t think I can.”
Even as he said that, he couldn’t take his eyes off the Burnt Yakgwa Jelly.
Then Kang Hajun’s hand reached out first.
“I’ll eat it.”
Kang Hajun took a large bite and began chewing.
Pffft.
Pffft-hahahaha.
“I think I get it now. I understand why people laugh. This tastes like it makes you laugh.”
“Really? Then I should try it too.”
Yoon Siwoo took a piece and ate it.
His reaction was the same.
Pffft.
Pffft-hahahaha.
Their gazes turned toward the youngest, Seo Doyoon.
He thought he shouldn’t, but he was dying to know what it tasted like.
“Then… maybe I’ll try… just one piece?”
Unable to resist the temptation, Seo Doyoon picked up a piece of Burnt Yakgwa Jelly.
But he couldn’t bring himself to put it in his mouth.
He thought of all the days he had spent dieting.
He remembered forcing down chicken breasts,
and living with hunger.
He had lived in starvation.
This one piece was an act of betrayal against all those days.
And yet, he thought he would go mad from curiosity.
‘It’s just one piece. Just one piece.’
He put it in his mouth.
Crack.
The brown sugar shattered with a clear sound.
And Seo Doyoon’s expression crumbled.
A sweetness and sugary richness he had never experienced before filled his mouth.
He was happy.
The deep fragrance of cinnamon and the softness of milk.
The chewy texture.
Even the occasional chunks of yakgwa.
It was perfect.
Laughter burst from Seo Doyoon without him realizing it.
He had thought it was a betrayal, but heaven was right here.
Pffft.
Pffft-hahahaha.
Seo Doyoon’s hand reached for another piece of Burnt Yakgwa Jelly.
His brothers tried to stop him.
“Just one. Just one.”
“You said you’d only eat one. Just one.”
“Hyung. Eating only one of these is a sin. I can’t.”
“No. Just one more. I’ll have just one more.”
His brothers hurriedly moved the plate away, but Seo Doyoon already had a piece of Burnt Yakgwa Jelly in his hand.
.
.
.
In the end, Seo Doyoon ate all the remaining Burnt Yakgwa Jelly.
All that remained on camera was an empty plate and the youngest member, who had completely lost his mind.
After that day, the name of Burnt Yakgwa Jelly changed.
To Burnt ‘Devil’ Jelly.
NBT’s video ended, but NBT’s influence was tremendous.
Fans around the world watched the video and learned about Burnt Yakgwa Jelly.
Burnt Yakgwa Jelly grew even more famous.
People all over the world began searching for Burnt Devil Jelly.
Orders started pouring in from overseas as well.
*******
“Yes, yes. Then we’ll proceed as requested.”
Manager Kim hung up the phone and immediately placed the order.
It was a regular order.
Only the quantity changed slightly from month to month; the amount ordered was generally similar.
The call made before placing the order was little more than a formality.
They were simply checking whether anything had changed,
and whether there was enough capacity.
All the other conditions were the same.
The route, the unit price, and the shipping line were all unchanged.
There was no reason for any problems to arise.
About an hour passed.
Then the phone rang.
—Mr. Kim. We have a problem.
“A problem?”
Manager Kim’s hand stopped at the word.
Trade was strange.
A problem could arise and still lead to greater profits,
while a very minor variable could cause a huge loss.
The moment he heard the word “problem,” a chill ran down his spine.
He grew tense.
—We can’t secure cargo space.
“Ah… Cargo space?”
Once he heard the details, his tension eased.
Cargo space?
That was common enough.
It happened from time to time.
Sometimes a shipping line had so much freight that it couldn’t accept any more cargo.
It wasn’t welcome news, but they could simply use another shipping line.
It would be a little troublesome, but it wasn’t a major problem.
“Please use another shipping line. Even if it costs a little more, please go ahead with that.”
—That’s not the problem.
“What?”
—I contacted several other shipping lines as well, but none of them can secure cargo bound for Korea at all.
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
Manager Kim was genuinely bewildered.
They couldn’t secure cargo?
This wasn’t cargo bound for some place in South America or Africa.
They couldn’t secure cargo coming to South Korea?
—I found out while making the calls, but they mentioned something about reassessing Korea’s port exposure.
“Reassessing exposure? What does that mean?”
—I’m not entirely sure myself. They said it was insurance-related… But they flatly refused, saying that shipping to Korea was too burdensome for now.
“Ah, I see. Understood. We’ll look into it and get back to you.”
It made no sense.
He wanted to ask more, but he couldn’t.
The other party didn’t seem to understand the situation clearly either.
They had called simply to pass along what they knew.
There was no way he could press them for more information.
For a moment, Manager Kim felt completely lost.
They had to place the order now to receive the goods two months later.
He had worked in trade for more than five years.
He thought he had experienced every situation imaginable, but this was a first.
There was no answer to be found by agonizing over it alone.
He reported it to the team leader first.
.
.
.
The conference room that afternoon.
The logistics, finance, purchasing, and risk management teams all gathered at once.
“What happened here? Does anyone know the reason?”
The head of the risk management team asked.
But no one answered.
“There’s no problem with the supplier, the ships, or the ports, and yet the ships aren’t sailing?”
The risk management team leader asked again.
It made no sense, but that was the reality.
Then the logistics team leader opened his mouth.
“They aren’t refusing to sail. It’s just become more expensive.”
“What? More expensive?”
“We’ve been told the insurance premiums have gone up fourfold.”
“But nothing has changed. Why would the insurance premium change? The cargo is the same, the distance is the same, and yet the premium goes up? Does that even make sense?”
The risk management team leader spoke in frustration.
“I can’t say this is certain, but I heard something. Apparently, the reinsurance companies are reviewing the conditions for the Korea route.”
“Reinsurance?”
The finance team leader’s eyes widened as if he were hearing the term for the first time.
International shipping insurance was somewhat different from what people usually imagined.
With automobile insurance, one insurance company took sole responsibility.
I bought a car and took out insurance with a company called A.
If an accident occurred, Company A handled the insurance claim.
It was simple and straightforward.
Ships were different.
When an accident occurred, the scale of the losses could be impossible to bear.
If an insurer took the entire burden on itself, it would collapse outright.
For example, several years ago, a ship ran aground in the Suez Canal.
It remained stranded there for six days, blocking all ships from entering or leaving.
The Suez Canal authorities,
as well as the hundreds of ships waiting to pass,
had to be compensated for their logistics delays.
More than one billion dollars in insurance claims were demanded, but in the end, the parties were reportedly said to have settled for around five hundred million dollars.
In another case, a container ship that had lost power crashed into a bridge in Baltimore, completely destroying it.
It was an enormous disaster that caused up to four billion dollars—six trillion won—in damage due to the bridge reconstruction, the port closure, and the loss of life.
The incident was so serious that reinsurers from around the world gathered in London to devise countermeasures.
After that day, reinsurance premiums rose by an average of more than five percent.
A shipping accident could cause losses of hundreds of millions of dollars.
That was why ship insurers always shared their risks through reinsurance.
I might take out a policy with Company A, but Company A would distribute its coverage among B, C, D, E, and F.
There were companies that specialized solely in accepting reinsurance.
In the industry, this was both standard practice and common knowledge.
“The reinsurance companies said they were going to reassess their exposure on the Korea route, so the insurers started changing their conditions.”
“But what exactly is exposure?”
The finance team leader asked.
The topic was somewhat unfamiliar to him.
“It’s a measure of how much risk one is exposed to. The premiums and coverage are determined accordingly.”
“Are you saying they won’t insure us?”
“No, they will. Technically, they’ll still provide insurance, but they’re saying they may not be able to cover one hundred percent even if an accident occurs. Shipowners have a hard time operating without insurance.”
The conference room fell silent again.
“So, they’re going to reassess the risk level of every route entering Korea? That’s why the insurance premiums are rising, and even if shipowners operate with the more expensive insurance, they won’t receive one hundred percent coverage, so they’re reluctant to sail.”
“Exactly.”
Once everyone grasped the reality, sighs escaped them.
There was nothing they could do.
“But we still need to receive the goods, don’t we?”
“Of course we do. But do you think the shipping lines will operate without insurance?”
“Can’t we just tell them to deliver the goods and say we won’t hold them responsible if the cargo is damaged?”
“It isn’t that simple. We can give up our claim for the cargo, but we can’t guarantee coverage for damage to their ship or to third parties, can we?”
When they heard it explained that way, it made sense.
Suppose we ordered something through a delivery service, and the delivery vehicle got into an accident.
We might waive any claim regarding our own package,
but we couldn’t possibly pay for the vehicle repairs, the other packages loaded in the vehicle,
or, if it had collided with another car for reasons unknown, the repair costs for that car as well.
“Isn’t there any other way?”
“We’ll look into it.”
The atmosphere in the conference room grew heavy.
They said they would look into it, but there was nothing they could do.
This was beyond the level at which an individual or a company could take action.
.
.
.
Tokyo
Minase, the chairman of the Seiwakai, was sitting in the garden drinking tea.
A little while later, his secretary, Akiyama, entered.
As always, he approached quietly without making a sound and bowed his head to Minase.
“Chairman. Kuroda said that he had sent the ‘gift’ you mentioned to Korea.”
“What did he send as the gift?”
“He says he blocked off the reinsurance side.”
“Ho-ho-ho-ho. He struck them right where it hurts, didn’t he? How is Korea reacting?”
Minase rarely showed any expression,
but now he laughed aloud.
“They don’t seem to have properly grasped the situation yet.”
“Tell Kuroda he’s done a good job.”
Minase continued drinking his tea.
But a faint smile had formed at the corners of his mouth.