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Cale woke up one day craving for something.
He was taking his afternoon nap when he realized that he was hungry, but he was not hungry for the usual snacks. The Korean in him was craving for something.
He left his room and went to the food room that he was still hiding from everyone, especially his fellow Koreans (Choi Han, Choi Jung Soo, and Sui Khan). He used his fingerprint to open the door, yes, it has a fingerprint lock; he was keeping the two idiots (Jung Soo and Sui Khan) from raiding this large pantry.
Ding!
He could only sigh in content as he was greeted by the sight of all the foods he used to enjoy when he was Kim Rok Soo, or the foods he wished he had the money to try and enjoy back then. He nodded in satisfaction that the Gods did not go back on their words about making everything never-ending.
He has food for days. Hell, even his favorite beverages are all here.
This room was like a large grocery store really. He walked slowly between the aisles, his slippers shuffling against the cold marble floor. Shelves upon shelves of Korean instant noodles, tubs of fermented kimchi—cabbage, radish, cucumber—lined up like proud soldiers, spicy sauces, snacks, and neatly stacked containers of meat waited for their turn to shine.
And there it was.
The loaf of milk bread, soft and fluffy, called out to him from the corner of the bread section. Next to it, a pack of pre-sliced cheddar and mozzarella cheese blinked invitingly under the subtle lighting. A jar of kimchi, specially labeled "Extra Funky – Aged Three Months" , sat beside a golden bottle of sesame oil.
A kimchi toastie. That was it. That was what his soul wanted.
He gathered all the ingredients into a basket and, with the stealth of a seasoned thief, slipped out of the hidden pantry and made his way to the main kitchen.
Not just any kitchen.
Beacrox’s kitchen.
Yes, that Beacrox. The scariest, most intense, and arguably the cleanest man in the entire Henituse territory. The kitchen was practically sacred ground. There were unwritten rules, terrifying glares, and an implied death sentence for anyone who left a mess or dared to touch Beacrox’s pristine tools.
(Hell, both Choi uncle and nephew pair were banned from the kitchen.)
But Cale was a man on a mission.
He checked the hallways—clear.
He eased the door open—quiet.
He stepped inside—and immediately felt like he had entered enemy territory.
The stainless-steel counters gleamed. Knives hung on the wall in perfect order, each one polished to the point of acting as a mirror. A white cloth sat folded with military precision. The scent of bleach and expensive spices lingered in the air.
Cale gulped.
“Just a quick toastie,” he muttered to himself. “Five minutes. Ten tops. He won’t even know.”
He turned on the stove, laid out the bread, layered the spicy, crunchy kimchi, and added the cheeses. The sizzle of butter hitting the pan made his heart race—both from excitement and mild panic. The smell was glorious, filling the kitchen with spicy, cheesy comfort.
He was just about to flip it when—
Click.
The sound of the door unlocking made him freeze.
No. No. No no no.
Beacrox Molan stepped inside, his eyes narrowing instantly as he took in the scene. Cale standing in front of the stove. A suspicious pan. The smell of strong kimchi. And… one very unauthorized toastie in progress.
Cale met his eyes.
Beacrox looked at the pan. Then back at Cale.
Then at the mess—minimal, but to him, it might as well be a battlefield.
“…Explain.”
Cale stood straight, cleared his throat, and said with all the calmness he could muster:
“I was hungry.”
Beacrox’s eyebrow twitched. “You could have asked me.”
“But you don’t know how to make a kimchi toastie.”
“Ah what?”
“Kimchi toastie.”
“Is that from your old world, young master?”
Cale nodded. “Yes.”
Beacrox sighed. “Very well, but I do wish to watch the process so I could make it for you in the future.”
Cale blinked.
“…You want to watch?”
Beacrox crossed his arms, his usual scowl firmly in place. “If you’re going to risk contaminating my kitchen, I at least need to know how to replicate this so it won’t happen again.”
Cale eyed him warily. “…You’re not going to scold me for breaking in?”
“I am scolding you. Silently. In my soul.”
“…Fair.”
Turning back to the pan, Cale gently pressed the bread with the spatula, hearing the satisfying crunch of perfectly browned toast. The cheese was beginning to ooze out slightly, hugging the edges like a warm blanket. He flipped the sandwich with practiced ease, releasing a burst of kimchi-laced steam into the air.
Beacrox squinted at it like it had personally offended him. “It looks… messy.”
“It is messy. That’s part of the charm,” Cale replied. “You eat it with your hands, let the cheese stretch, let the spicy kimchi wake your taste buds and ruin your mouth a little. You suffer, but you’re happy.”
Beacrox blinked. “Why would you want food that makes you suffer?”
“Because it reminds me I’m alive.”
“…You are the strangest noble I’ve ever met.”
“And yet I’m your boss.”
Beacrox made a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a grumble of resignation. “Continue.”
Once the toastie was golden and crispy on both sides, Cale turned off the heat and carefully moved it to a plate. He let it sit for a moment, savoring the moment before slicing it in half. The cheese stretched perfectly between the toasted halves, and the kimchi’s rich red hue peeked out enticingly.
Beacrox observed like he was studying a magical potion.
“Do you want a bite?” Cale asked, smirking slightly as he held up a half.
Beacrox looked deeply offended. “Not until the counter is cleaned and the spatula is returned to its original place.”
Cale rolled his eyes but complied, wiping everything down with surprising precision. Beacrox’s gaze softened—barely—as he took the offered toastie half and inspected it like a scientist inspecting a sample under a microscope.
He took a bite.
Pause.
“…Huh.”
Cale raised an eyebrow. “Well?”
“…It is… Acceptable,” Beacrox said slowly, chewing thoughtfully. “Savory. Rich. Spicy. The cheese balances the acidity of the kimchi surprisingly well.”
Cale stared. “Beacrox. Are you—praising something?”
Beacrox narrowed his eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”
Cale snorted and took a bite of his own toastie, letting the warm flavor wash over him. For a moment, it was like being home again—messy, spicy, and just a little bit chaotic.
Then—
BANG.
The kitchen door slammed open.
“Hyung, I smell something unholy and delicious!” Jung Soo yelled, bursting in with Sui Khan right behind him. Choi Han peeked in over their shoulders, expression suspiciously too calm.
Cale froze mid-bite.
Beacrox’s eye twitched.
“…You brought them here ?” he hissed.
“I didn’t! They have the noses of bloodhounds, I swear!”
Jung Soo was already bounding toward the plate. “Is that— kimchi toastie?! You traitor! You were holding out on us!”
Beacrox drew a knife—not to throw, but he did not look like he would hesitate.
Cale stuffed the rest of the toastie in his mouth, cheeks puffed like a squirrel.
Sui Khan was being dramatic and clutched his chest, “Cale-ya made his famous kimchi toastie and didn’t even call his hyung for some!”
Choi Han blinked. “Cale-nim could cook?”
“At least he’s better than you and your nephew.” Beacrox snorted.
Cale interjected before an actual fight could happen. “I used to work at a diner from the age of eighteen to almost twenty when I was Kim Rok Soo.”
The room went quiet.
Even Sui Khan and Jung Soo stopped mid-dramatics to blink at him.
“…Wait, what ?” Jung Soo looked personally betrayed. “You worked at a diner and you never cooked for us?”
“I did,” Cale said flatly. “Once. You just tried to dump a whole bottle of gochujang in the soup because it wasn’t ‘spicy enough.’ After that, I quit.”
“Oh.” Jung Soo had the decency to look sheepish. “Fair.”
Beacrox, meanwhile, had narrowed his eyes again. “So you’re telling me you have functional culinary skills and you chose to sneak in here instead of asking to use the kitchen?”
Cale shrugged, biting into his toastie again. “I was craving an afternoon snack. This was an emergency.”
Sui Khan dramatically flopped onto the clean prep table (Beacrox visibly flinched). “Cale-ya… why must you hide your talents from us? Is this how it ends? With toasties we don’t get to taste?”
Beacrox looked like he was considering chasing them all out with a ladle.
Cale sighed and stood up, brushing crumbs off his fingers. “There’s still enough ingredients left for a few more.”
Three heads turned to him in unison.
“Say less,” Jung Soo declared, already rolling up his sleeves.
Beacrox blocked him with the flat of a knife. “Touch nothing .”
“I can help—”
“No.”
“I’ll just—”
“No.”
“…I’ll sit quietly and breathe?”
“…Debatable.”
Eventually, Beacrox sighed and relented. “Everyone out . I’ll assist the young master. You may line up for a sample, if you behave.”
“Like a toastie buffet?” Sui Khan asked hopefully.
Choi Han, still half-hidden by the door, raised a hand. “May I request a non-spicy version?”
“No,” Cale and Beacrox said in unison.
Choi Han blinked, then nodded. “Understood.”
***
Half an hour later, the Super Villa kitchen was transformed into what could only be described as a “toastie tasting event.” Cale stood at the center like a kimchi toastie master chef, flipping sandwiches with the precision of a man who had survived multiple near-death experiences and now applied that same skill to comfort food.
Beacrox stood beside him, taking notes like he was studying swordsmanship.
Jung Soo had tears in his eyes by the second bite. “This is art. This is divinity. This is—ow, hot!”
Sui Khan didn’t even speak. He just stared at his plate, nodding solemnly between bites like he was at a funeral for every boring snack he’d ever eaten.
Choi Han, to everyone’s surprise, ended up liking the original spicy version. “It has character,” he commented calmly. “I forgot what spicy Korean food tastes like.”
And Cale somehow slipped up about the food rom by mistake to Beacrox.
Of course, Beacrox later installed a fingerprint lock(once he found out about it) on his kitchen door. Just in case.
But even he didn’t protest too much when a mysterious container of kimchi appeared in his fridge every other week—labeled “For Future Food Experiments.”
Because, whether he liked it or not, the kitchen had just gained a new legacy dish.
And Cale Henituse had officially committed a crime of flavor.