A month can feel long to some and incredibly short to others.
And for Ilyang Foods’ Marketing Team Leader, Jo Gun-woo—
A month was far too short, too urgent, and far too agonizing.
Jo Gun-woo wandered around his home with a vacant expression.
‘Why hasn’t anyone responded?’
Ilyang Foods was indeed a major company in Korea.
But on the global stage?
‘We’re this insignificant, huh.’
Overseas PPL? Not even a “read” receipt.
Forget product placement—he couldn’t even get his foot in the door for a discussion.
So what about the domestic market?
‘Why hasn’t Veritas gotten back to us?’
In truth, this was Jo Gun-woo’s mistake.
Confident that the domestic market was in the bag, he had delayed reaching out to Veritas.
He had poured all his energy into breaking into the overseas market,
only to come up empty-handed.
The only remaining strategy was to secure Kim Donghu as their model through Veritas.
But maybe as punishment for his delay, Veritas was unresponsive.
‘They said it takes at least three to four days for a reply, right?’
And with the executive meeting scheduled for tomorrow... three to four days was impossible.
‘I’m going to get fired.’
Was this how it all ended?
With a bitter smile, Jo Gun-woo flopped onto the sofa.
Why did he suddenly feel an urge to watch it?
Was it regret for what he couldn’t have?
Or a desperate desire to confirm what was out of reach?
Glancing at the clock, he realized it was about to air live in Japan.
‘Of course, there’s no way to watch it here in Korea.’
Suppressing his frustration, Jo Gun-woo sent a Kakao message.
That would be me, Team Leader!
The Noble Gourmet airing right now? Turn it on for me.
A few moments passed, and then—
Jo Gun-woo read a message that he could hardly believe.
Team Leader, Kim Donghu is on The Noble Gourmet right now!
But it was happening.
If it had ended there, it would have been surprising enough.
But the next message was pure shock.
And... they’re making rabokki with our product?
International roaming fees be damned.
Global call charges? Who cares.
Jo Gun-woo immediately called.
"Is this true? What’s going on?! No, wait! Just record it! Whether it’s with a camera or a video recorder, just record it!"
"Y-yes, sir! But this is really huge! They’re eating Spicy Fire Noodles and screaming like ‘Kuaaaah!’"
"Okay, okay, calm down! I get it, just... don’t lose your head!"
Thirty chaotic minutes of back-and-forth later,
Jo Gun-woo, unable to contain his rising excitement, screamed.
Hope was finally shining on him.
With his lips trembling, Jo Gun-woo smoothed back his slicked-back hair.
Veritas not responding? It didn’t matter anymore.
‘I’ll camp out in front of their office if I have to.’
Uh... should I wait at the airport?
It was the only way he could survive.
And Jo Gun-woo was dead serious.
"Why exactly do we need to watch this?"
"I’m just saying, even having the TV on boosts the ratings, haha. I was genuinely curious, that’s all."
As the unofficial son-in-law with zero authority, Usami Kenji quickly cowered.
‘Kim Donghu! It’s all because of you that my daughter is watching late-night dramas!’
It was already 10 p.m.—prime growing time for kids.
They needed to be sleeping to grow taller and stay healthy.
And yet, here she was, staying up late because of him.
‘This is why all men are wolves!’
He’d tried appealing this argument to his wife countless times.
But her response was always the same—
-"Honestly, if it’s Kim Donghu, you have to admit it’s fair."
He still remembered how he’d been completely struck speechless.
Watching his daughter swooning over someone was unbearable.
Could there be a more tormenting moment for a father?
Regardless of his struggles—
"Ooooh, it’s Donghu-senpai!"
On the TV, Kim Donghu appeared.
A hungry Kurata Toro entered a Korean diner,
and Kim Minjun, contemplating whether to close up shop in his parents’ absence, met him by chance.
That coincidence naturally led to cooking.
"Wow, he’s pulling out all the stops."
At Kenji’s comment, Chisako tilted her head, silently asking for an explanation.
"They’re filming his cooking scenes in such detail—subtle but clear. They’re making sure everyone knows Kim Donghu is cooking."
It was clear that the production team wanted to highlight Kim Donghu himself.
Just as Kenji said, The Noble Gourmet
Normally, the focus would be on the food.
But now, the emphasis was on the act of cooking itself.
"But he’s really good at cooking, isn’t he? Pretty similar to me, I’d say."
"Come on, I still think the food you make is the best, dear."
"I still want to try Donghu-senpai’s cooking, though."
"Right? Me too, Mom."
Usami Kenji sighed internally.
‘Why is my daughter looking at another man with stars in her eyes?’
Still, he couldn’t say anything—
Because deep down, he knew his wife was right.
His cooking skills were so exceptional that you immediately understood why they showcased them in such detail.
‘But the protagonist is still Toro.’
No matter how flashy the side dishes were, the foundation was always the rice.
In The Noble Gourmet, Kurata Toro was the pillar,
and the production maintained that principle without fail.
‘Kim Donghu’s scenes feel completely natural.’
It seemed like he wasn’t even trying,
but in truth, this episode was packed with incredible finesse.
‘Stir-fried pork... tonkatsu—is that the Korean version? It looks like gyoza-style Western cuisine…’
Each new dish that appeared looked mouthwateringly delicious.
As a neighboring country, the similarities in food were noticeable.
The undeniable difference, however, was that deep red color.
A hellish, fiery shade that screamed deadly spiciness.
You’d rarely see that intense crimson hue in Japanese cuisine.
From the Usami family to countless others watching The Noble Gourmet,
the response was overwhelmingly positive.
"Is there a Korean restaurant nearby?"
"Kimchi pancakes... those look somewhat similar to ours."
"But they’re thinner, aren’t they? Should we try making them tomorrow?"
And then the rain started falling.
The sound of raindrops mixing with the sizzle of kimchi pancakes,
paired with Kim Donghu’s massive meal—
[Anyone else watching The Noble Gourmet right now? The ultra-handsome guy’s back wwwwwwwwww]
[Wow, actors really are something else, huh? He’s such a good actor, and his Japanese is flawless.]
[Wait, so Kim Donghu speaks both Korean and Japanese? That’s seriously impressive.]
[He can cook too... Ugh, the gap between humans feels way too real right now (cries).]
[He’s conquering Japan with his looks and his cooking. Maybe he’s a descendant of Admiral Yi Sun-sin ww.]
[And his appetite is insane! He’s like a sumo wrestler—so dynamic and fun to watch!]
On Twitter, praise flooded in.
Nothing felt out of place; everything blended seamlessly,
allowing viewers to enjoy the episode purely for its entertainment value.
And that entertainment soon translated into ratings.
"That’s double the usual numbers?!"
"It seems word spread rapidly on Twitter."
"Still, I didn’t expect such a massive jump!"
Aitake Ura was genuinely stunned at the 2x spike in ratings.
For The Noble Gourmet, guest stars had never had such a significant impact before.
‘Is Kim Donghu different?’
A bit of research revealed that he’d earned a reputation as the actor who never failed.
It seemed unbelievable at first, but now the numbers were undeniable.
‘If we’d teased this episode more, could we have hit double digits earlier?’
A brief wave of greed washed over Aitake Ura,
but he quickly shook his head.
‘This is already incredible. No need to get greedy.’
As a producer, excessive ambition was dangerous.
Even these numbers were an enormous success.
"A-Aitake-san! It’s still rising!"
"What?! Why? Why is it going up even more?!"
"Because... because he’s eating so well!"
Truthfully, Aitake Ura had already been ambitious.
He had moved The Noble Gourmet into prime time and extended the broadcast duration.
And thanks to that extra time, viewership continued to climb,
culminating in a final rating of—
"Exactly 10.0%! We hit double digits!"
For prime-time shows, the benchmark for success was around 15%.
Viewed from that perspective, 10% wasn’t exceptionally high.
For a show that had just shifted time slots to achieve 10%?
That was a bold declaration of success against top-tier competition.
"Kim Donghu is... a god!"
It was the moment Kim Donghu’s presence and influence officially began spreading across Japan.
After The Noble Gourmet broadcast ended.
‘Wait, wasn’t I here to do dubbing?’
The thought crossed my mind, and I shrugged.
‘Well, a win is a win.’
As I was mulling it over—
Senpai, let’s meet up! Right now!
A sudden Kakao message popped up from Usami Chisako.
‘Meet up? Right now?’
It was already 11 p.m.
You were just too cool! I want to gush about it all—share reactions and everything! Together!
< It’s really late. How about tomorrow instead?
Then let’s meet tomorrow in front of the station! Come in disguise!
Huh? How did this happen so naturally?
‘Wait, was this her strategy all along?’
A clever tactic: sacrificing the small gain to secure the bigger prize.
In this case, a casual conversation had seamlessly turned into a date.