I got a job. And a managerial position at a place that could fairly be called a major enterprise, no less.
Starting today, I would be handling affairs at the Seokho Pavilion, the main tavern of Seokga Estate.
Well, there had been a request for me to take charge of the entire establishment, but I hadn’t been too keen on it. Unlike the first and second floors, which involved plenty of face-to-face interaction with customers, the third floor and above consisted of private guest rooms.
These kinds of places generally ran smoothly enough even without me sticking my hands in them.
I lacked sufficient knowledge of this world to scatter my attention by taking charge of areas that didn’t strictly need my touch.
With that in mind, I cut off the upper floors entirely and only took the lower ones.
If I produced results later, they might try to hand the upper floors over to me too.
But when that time came, I just needed to take what else I wanted along with them and claim the credit.
Having thought that far ahead, I had quietly begun plotting my next move.
To be honest, a single tavern wasn’t enough to show off every skill I currently possessed.
No matter how knowledgeable a bartender might be about alcohol, that was only true in the modern world.
I was more than ignorant—I was practically clueless when it came to this world’s liquors.
So, what did I need? First, I needed experience encountering many kinds of alcohol.
If I could taste a new liquor even once, figuring out how to handle it wouldn’t be difficult.
From that perspective, a tavern was a fairly decent job.
But even that had its limits. That was why the move I was plotting was precisely the next step.
‘A brewery. That’s what I need.’
After producing show-stopping results at the Seokho Pavilion, I would take charge of the brewery as well.
That was my ultimate goal.
If I could influence the brewery, the things I could do would increase exponentially.
I could make liquors I knew, or I could modify the ones already being produced to make them easier to work with.
I could have asked for the brewery from the start, but asking for too much at once would only damage my reputation.
‘Let’s take it step by step.’
It wasn’t as if I had a way to return right away. If so, I simply needed to spend my time doing what I could do here.
With my resolve firm, I finished preparing for my first day at work.
“Are you ready?”
Right on cue, Chief Steward Gong’s voice came from outside. Today was my first day, and he had offered to escort me there.
Since I had no acquaintance with any of the employees working at the Seokho Pavilion yet, he had decided to accompany me.
“I kept you waiting. I was a bit late packing my things.”
“Things? You mean that leather bag?”
“Yes. These are tools I used at my previous workplace.”
“Ho. Then, are they for… brewing?”
“Precisely.”
Chief Steward Gong observed my bag with curiosity. It was tightly fastened with leather and shaped unlike anything found here; it must have seemed quite novel to him.
“Hmm. Let’s go, then.”
After scrutinizing the bag for some time, Chief Steward Gong urged us forward first. I followed close behind, heading toward the Seokho Pavilion.
“You’ve arrived, Chief Steward.”
“So you came out to greet us. It has been a while.”
Thanks to Chief Steward Gong having sent word ahead, someone came out to meet us as soon as we reached the entrance of the Seokho Pavilion.
It was the guard warrior I had run into before at an inn in the city—Cheol-hwan.
“Might you be Great Hero Cheol-hwan?”
“You remember me. It has been a while. I had been hearing news from afar.”
“So Great Hero Cheol was affiliated with the Seokho Pavilion?”
“Ah. Not exactly. I was promoted not long ago and came here as the head of security. It’s been about eight days since I started.”
“Were you two acquainted?”
“We crossed paths briefly at an inn some time ago.”
“I see. Heh heh. Of all the figures in Seokga Estate, the one to meet this young master first was the Iron-Blood Long Blade. What a fateful connection.”
“Please, come in. Everyone is waiting.”
We followed Cheol-hwan inside, where the first floor of the Seokho Pavilion was packed with all sorts of people.
There were attendants in fine fabrics but mismatched outfits, a chef boasting thick forearms in short sleeves, and sword-bearing warriors in martial uniforms like Cheol-hwan.
Each of them wore their role on their sleeve, casting gazes my way as if to ask who I was.
“Greetings to the Chief Steward.”
When Cheol-hwan delivered the formal greeting, the gathered crowd bent at the waist in unison, following his lead.
A figure of Chief Steward Gong’s stature would be known to every employee at the Seokho Pavilion.
“You’ve all gathered well. I supposed it would be best for everyone to be present when introducing a new face. Heh heh. I’ll keep the introductions brief. This is Young Master Lee Jeong-hwan, the proxy who will manage the lower floors of the Seokho Pavilion from today. He was a guest of Seokga Estate, someone the Master personally invited.”
“What do you mean by manager?”
The oldest-looking attendant among those seated toward the inside asked.
Chief Steward Gong glanced at him, then directed his gaze elsewhere as he continued his explanation.
“Full authority over all matters pertaining to the operation of the first and second floors. From now on, everyone gathered here is to follow this young master’s words in all things.”
“Ohh.”
A murmur rippled through part of the crowd. I could understand it. These weren’t people who came and went from Seokga Estate, so they might not have heard any rumors.
To such people, I was nothing more than some nobody who had rolled in from who-knows-where and plopped himself down above them.
“Now then, please introduce yourself, Young Master.”
Once the murmuring had suitably died down, Chief Steward Gong passed the word to me. I stepped forward, briefly cupped my fists in salute, and delivered a short greeting.
“I am Lee Jeong-hwan. There is much I do not know, so I ask for your guidance.”
One by one, those in charge of the lower floors of the Seokho Pavilion approached to greet me.
The first to approach was Cheol-hwan. And next came:
“I am Pyo-chu, the head chef. I can cook just about any dish with a name in the Central Plains. If there’s anything you ever wish to eat, just say the word. Hahaha.”
Pyo-chu, the head chef. A man who looked like nothing so much as a bandit kept flexing his forearms as he greeted me cheerfully.
He looked far more suited to being a guard than a chef.
“I am Hong-ak… I carry the food. I have the longest career among the attendants. Well. If you need anything, call for me.”
Next was that same Hong-ak, the oldest-looking attendant from earlier.
With his pursed lips, he seemed somewhat displeased about something.
They went around one by one, introducing their work and experience. Just as the introductions were drawing to a close—
“You rascals! Aren’t you working?!”
—a thunderous roar rang out, and everyone’s eyes turned toward the main gate of the Seokho Pavilion. There stood a short old man—truly stubby in stature—with a red bridge to his nose, glaring at the place with an irate expression.
“W-why is he here?”
Chief Steward Gong went pale at the sight of him and took a step back.
It was the expression of someone meeting a figure they found deeply unsettling.
“Hey, you lot! Can’t you hear me telling you to work?!”
As far as I knew, Chief Steward Gong was not a man to be trifled with. Even if his martial arts were beneath those of Seok Du-won, he was still someone said to have learned a decent amount of them.
What kind of person could make Chief Steward Gong react this way? I watched with curiosity, for I had never seen him like this even before Seok Du-won.
Chief Steward Gong pressed his temple firmly, then stepped forward.
“Is that not Lord Ju? It has been a while.”
“Damn it! So it was your doing! These Seokho Pavilion brats aren’t working and are all gathered here wasting time! You, Hong-ak! I’m busy! Aren’t you working?!”
“Y-yes. I’m going. Everyone, get moving!”
Even with Chief Steward Gong standing right before him, he looked past him at someone else. His tone was also informal, hardly fitting for a chief steward.
At his mocking demeanor, Chief Steward Gong’s face flushed red.
“You haven’t changed. What brings you all the way here?”
“What business?! A drunkard’s come with a liquor delivery! Aren’t you going to hurry up and move it?!”
“You’re delivering it personally? Heavens. Doing something you don’t usually do.”
True to his words about a liquor delivery, outside where Hong-ak led the attendants, stacks of liquor jars were piled high.
The alcohol delivered from the brewery was headed to the storage cellar underground.
‘An artisan working at the brewery?’
Watching this, I could more or less guess the identity of this old man called Ju Gong.
“Who’s that white-faced brat?”
As the attendants filed outside in unison, Ju Gong clasped his hands behind his back and approached me.
His constant sizing me up from head to toe felt nothing if not unpleasant.
“This is Young Master Lee Jeong-hwan. From today, he is the proxy managing the lower floors of the Seokho Pavilion. You should remember his face. You’ll be running into each other.”
“Has the little master finally lost his mind?”
“Hey, you!”
“Why else would he entrust the Seokho Pavilion to some pale-faced brat like this? He’s mad. Yes. Plain mad.”
“Mind your tongue. He has been here since the previous generation, so even the Master can only tolerate him so much.”
“Pft. If you want to throw me out, do it whenever you like. I was already sick to death of the stench of liquor dregs anyway.”
“You really are…”
“Tch, tch. I heard from the underlings that a new face had come to the Seokho Pavilion, so I scraped together some time and sauntered over, but what a wasted trip. You! You there!”
“Ptfff. M-me, sir?”
Ju Gong half-listened to Chief Steward Gong’s words, repeating them absentmindedly before soon tossing his gaze to me.
With his rough beckoning, he looked just like an angry raccoon. I nearly burst out laughing right in front of him.
“I don’t care if you run the Seokho Pavilion or ruin it! But if you blame the liquor when business goes bad, that day will be your death anniversary, mark my words! Do you understand?”
“Well, if there is a problem with the alcohol, shouldn’t we lay some of the blame on the alcohol?”
“Wh-what? What do you know about liquor?!”
“I know a thing or two. You’ll see that in due time. But do you have much time?”
“Huh?”
“The liquor seems to have all been moved. Shouldn’t you be going? You said you were busy… Or perhaps not.”
“Heavens. This brat is crazier than he looks.”
He had come picking a fight, trying to seize the upper hand, and I hadn’t backed down.
The battle of wills between those who made the alcohol and those who sold it was ever-present.
Having butted heads with such people countless times back where I came from, this provocation wasn’t even amusing.
“That’s enough testing the waters, Ju Gong. Didn’t you come to size up a newcomer? I think you’ve seen enough by now.”
When Chief Steward Gong interjected at the right moment, Ju Gong merely glared at him and then turned around.
He probably felt like he had tried to seize the upper hand only to come out at a loss.
“Damn it. You shouldn’t deal with madmen. Anyway! Just try blaming the liquor!”
“We’ll see each other again soon. I daresay it will be very soon.”
“Y-you, to the very end! This brat!”
“The guest has left. Let’s prepare for business!”
—Swish.
Even as Ju Gong turned away with a parting remark, he refused to show any sign of losing until the very end.
The way he deliberately let his long robe flutter nonchalantly was also a calculated move. Since I planned to extend my reach to the brewery eventually, I had no intention of being looked down upon by that old man.
“You’re quite something too. Heh heh. You’re the first young man who could withstand Ju Gong’s fierce spirit. Yes. Heh heh.”
“Who is he?”
“As you more or less gathered, he is the artisan at the brewery. His temper is quite… Everyone avoids him because dealing with him only leaves you fuming inside.”
“And he still manages an entire business?”
“There used to be a separate manager there too. You saw for yourself—who could stand that temper? However, his brewing skill is the best in Jeolgang. So now, the brewery is run solely by that man without a manager.”
“Then the Hwangju I drank some time ago was his work?”
“Of course. Nearly all the liquor produced in Seokga Estate for the past forty years has passed through his hands.”
“Ho.”
I had tasted the Hwangju at the banquet held at the Seokho Pavilion earlier.
That Hwangju was a liquor that could rightly be called a fine wine, a renowned brew.
Perhaps saying his skill alone was the best wasn’t exactly wrong.
‘Ju Gong.’
He was too important a figure to dismiss as merely a nasty old man. While clashes between those who sold and handled alcohol and those who made it were a common occurrence, the relationship was equally inseparable.
Somehow, it felt as though I would frequently clash with this man called Ju Gong.