The Villain Is Too Good at Cooking C5

Chapter 5

The T-shirt that was large enough to cover Jeong Iwon’s hips was nowhere near big enough for Yoon Mujin’s mountainous frame.

His broad shoulders and thick chest muscles stretched the shirt so tightly that it looked ready to burst. The cute smiley-face print in the very center had been pulled wide to either side.

His legs were ridiculously long as well. The gray sweatpants that had dragged along the floor stopped halfway down Mujin’s shins, leaving his ankles completely exposed.

He looked comically as though he had accidentally stolen and put on a child’s clothes, but the overwhelming silhouette of his muscles beneath the thin cotton shirt was no joke.

‘Holy shit, how big is his chest? And why are his shoulders so damn wide?’

Narrowing his eyes, Iwon secretly looked Mujin’s massive rib cage and solid frame up and down, swallowing hard.

Whether before or after transmigrating, Iwon had always had a slim build with barely enough muscle to speak of. He couldn’t help feeling secretly envious of such an almost savagely enormous male physique.

‘I want a body like that too.’

Oblivious to the way Iwon was looking at him, Mujin turned his head toward the kitchen, seemingly bewitched by the mouthwatering smell assaulting his nose.

Iwon set the table, placing steaming bowls of rice, stew, and side dishes in front of him. Sitting down in clothes that clearly didn’t fit his enormous frame, Mujin swallowed hard.

“Eat. It’ll get cold.”

He stared blankly at the meal in front of him. Golden-brown sausages, fried eggs with crispy edges, and perfectly fermented kimchi. It wasn’t some fancy gourmet meal, but the smell alone made his stomach rumble thunderously.

“……”

The tips of Mujin’s ears reddened with embarrassment. Pretending not to notice, Iwon gave a small laugh and picked up his spoon.

“Don’t be shy. Eat as much as you want. Patients need to eat well to recover quickly. You can use a spoon with your left hand, right?”

“…Yes.”

Mujin cautiously picked up the spoon with his left hand. Having spent his entire life as a right-handed person, his movements were awkward, but the moment he took a spoonful of the stew, his eyes widened slightly.

The salty yet rich flavor lingered across his tongue before sliding down his throat. It felt as though the warm food instantly soothed his empty, aching stomach.

For some reason, he felt relieved.

Then Mujin began eating as though possessed.

“Slow down. I’m not going to steal it from you. Want more rice?”

“…Yes.”

That evening, Yoon Mujin polished off three heaping bowls of rice, eating every last grain of what Jeong Iwon served him.

After they finished dinner, Iwon spread a thick, soft sleeping mat in the coziest spot inside the room.

“Here. You’re a patient, so sleep here. People who are injured are supposed to keep their backs warm so their blood circulates properly and their bones heal faster. I’m even giving you the best spot in the room, so don’t complain and lie down.”

“It’s the middle of summer. Why would I need the warm spot? I can just sleep somewhere else—”

“Shh! If the owner tells you to lie down, then lie down. Stop talking and get in!”

Eventually, Mujin was forced onto the thick bedding by Iwon’s relentless nagging.

Satisfied, Iwon spread a thin blanket on the cool floor near the doorway and lay down there himself.

However, Iwon’s excessive kindness came with one fatal side effect.

2 a.m.

Yoon Mujin woke up with his entire body drenched in sweat.

His body temperature was already high, and sleeping under a thick cotton blanket in the middle of summer was unbearable. Unable to take the suffocating heat any longer, he carefully got up.

Holding onto his casted arm, he quietly slipped out of the room.

“Hoo…”

Only after stepping onto the wooden veranda did the gentle night breeze finally cool his overheated body.

He sat down at the edge of the veranda and was about to rub his face when a voice suddenly came from the darkness.

“Did you wake up because it was hot?”

Mujin spun around in surprise.

Jeong Iwon was sitting on one side of the platform with one knee raised. On the small folding table beside him were seasoned acorn jelly that a neighbor grandmother had given him earlier that day and a glass of milky makgeolli.

“…You weren’t sleeping?”

“You kept tossing and turning and sweating like crazy, so I woke up. You’re huge, and you run hot too. Come sit.”

Iwon took a drink of his makgeolli and motioned with his chin.

Mujin walked over almost as though hypnotized and sat across from him.

“I’d give you some alcohol, but you’re a patient, so I’ll drink by myself.”

Mujin replied to his comment that he shouldn’t be offended.

“I don’t mind.”

In the quiet countryside before dawn, even the cicadas had fallen silent.

Perhaps it was because of this unrealistically peaceful atmosphere, but the suffocating pressure lodged deep in Mujin’s chest seemed to wash away little by little.

His tightly sealed lips slowly parted.

“…It’s all over.”

“What is?”

“I can never put on boxing gloves with this hand again. Boxing is over, and that person married another Alpha and left me. My life is completely empty now.”

Iwon quietly chewed his acorn jelly and refilled his own glass.

As someone who knew the original story, he could at least roughly understand how deep Mujin’s sense of loss was.

Iwon set his makgeolli glass down with a light clack and casually said,

“So what? Are you going to cling to that rotten lifeline and mope around until you grow old and die? There are plenty of Omegas in the world. They say first loves aren’t meant to work out anyway. You’re handsome enough. You’ve got a good body too. So what if your hand’s injured? Go through rehab and find someone new.”

Find someone new.

It was such a simple, ordinary piece of consolation.

Yet strangely, those words sank deep into Mujin’s ears.

Slowly, Mujin raised his head and looked at Iwon across from him.

His face glowed pale beneath the moonlight, his cheeks slightly flushed from the makgeolli, and every time his lips moved, that soft, sweet scent drifted toward Mujin’s nose.

He had spent his entire life chasing after Baek Hamin’s shadow.

Yet at this very moment, Yoon Mujin couldn’t take his eyes off Jeong Iwon.

An unfamiliar heartbeat stirred faintly somewhere inside his chest.

Warmth filled his heart.

The next morning.

“Take your medicine and stay put! I’m going to pull some weeds in the garden.”

Jeong Iwon put on a straw hat, grabbed a hand hoe, and headed out into the yard.

Left alone in the empty house, Yoon Mujin sat blankly on the veranda, staring into space.

The effects of the makgeolli he had drunk through the night were already gone, but the warmth and scent Iwon had left behind still lingered throughout the house.

‘I should do something.’

He couldn’t just sit around and become a freeloader who did nothing but eat someone else’s food.

Mujin got up and wandered into the yard.

Then his eyes stopped on something beside the old shed.

Several thick logs lay scattered about, untouched, with an axe sitting beside them.

‘That’ll do.’

He strode over and gripped the heavy axe handle with his left hand.

His right hand was encased in a thick cast, but that wasn’t much of an obstacle for him.

Thud!

He stood one of the logs upright.

Then Yoon Mujin flexed the muscles in his left arm and raised the axe high.

CRACK!

With a single swing, the thick log—almost as large as an adult’s thigh—split cleanly in two with a deep, splintering sound.

It was savage strength.

After so long without using his muscles, he could feel his blood rushing hotly through his veins.

A strange sense of liberation washed over him.

Mujin silently stood up another log and brought the axe down again.

THUD! CRACK! THUD!

After chopping wood beneath the scorching sun for some time, sweat poured down his entire body.

The smiley-face T-shirt Iwon had lent him was already unbearably tight across his chest, making it difficult to breathe.

When the sweat-soaked cotton clung uncomfortably to his skin, Mujin grew irritated.

He grabbed the hem of the shirt and simply pulled it off, tossing it aside.

Thick beads of sweat glistened as they rolled down his bare torso under the intense sunlight.

A cool breeze washed over his overheated body, making him feel considerably better.

Just as Mujin reached for the axe again—

“Oh, my back. Why do weeds grow so damn fast? Huh?”

Jeong Iwon had just finished working in the vegetable garden and entered through the gate, covered in dirt.

He stopped dead.

His eyes, shaded by the straw hat, landed on the huge half-naked man standing in the middle of the yard with an axe in his hand, surrounded by a mountain of freshly chopped firewood.

Under the sunlight, his enormous chest muscles shifted visibly, while beads of sweat slid down his sharply defined abs.

“……”

A suffocating silence descended over the yard.

Iwon’s pupils shook violently.

“Why are you naked again?!”

He threw down the hoe in shock.

“I was hot, so I took it off.”

“No, but why do you keep taking your clothes off whenever you get the chance?! And why are you chopping firewood when your bones aren’t even healed yet?! Are you insane?!”

Seeing Iwon’s face turn bright red as he raged, Mujin lowered the axe and wiped the sweat from his chin with the back of his hand.

Iwon stormed over and began smacking his broad back repeatedly.

Strangely, Mujin didn’t find the sharp little slaps painful at all.

Instead, the scent that suddenly burst from the fuming Iwon made the corners of Mujin’s lips curve into the faintest smile.