Chapter 2: Butcher Shop Life

“Hurry up!”

Father strode ahead with long, purposeful steps.

I trotted after him, craning my neck like a meerkat, glancing all around.

‘Unbelievable… So this really is 2025.’

Ah, that’s a utility pole!

The very pole I’d seen in history textbooks was right there before me.

Black wires hung and tangled like a web, swaying overhead—it was fascinating to see up close.

“Hey, um, Father, those wires hanging up there…?”

“What?”

Father looked back.

“They’re power lines. Why do you ask?”

“No, it’s just… If they fell, wouldn’t that be dangerous?”

“….”

Father’s face twisted like a half-bitten persimmon.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Sorry?”

“Should I take you to the hospital? The ER should be open.”

“No! It’s just… I was curious…”

I stammered out an excuse, but Father’s gaze stayed suspicious.

We walked on a little further.

Then, an incredible scene caught my eye.

“Whoa! This is just like an old movie.”

“What?”

“The cars are all over the ground, in packs…”

In 2157, all vehicles floated in the air, but here they rolled along the streets.

“…Junho.”

“Yes?”

“Cars are supposed to drive on the ground. Would they be underground?”

“Ah, right…”

Whack!

I got smacked on the head again.

“Stop spouting nonsense! Do you want to end up in a psych ward?”

“…Sorry.”

I clamped my mouth shut and kept walking.

But my eyes darted everywhere.

‘Whoa, is that… a traffic light!’

A primitive traffic system where red, yellow, and green lights changed in sequence.

‘Amazing, that’s a convenience store!’

A 24-hour shop that had vanished ages ago.

Through the glass doors, I saw rows of brightly colored goods.

And then…

“Huh? Father, that thing in your hand…”

“What now…”

“Is that a cigarette? A real cigarette!”

“Yeah, a cigarette. You smoke all the time too.”

Father sighed.

“Me?”

I searched my pockets. There really was a pack of cigarettes.

‘Ugh… The owner of this body drank and smoked… That’s why he died…’

“Hey!”

Suddenly, Father stopped.

“I’m asking you for the last time. Are you on drugs?”

“W-what? Drugs?”

“Yeah, you idiot. Weird drugs! Like narcotics!”

“No! Absolutely not!”

“Then what’s wrong with you? Why do you act like you’ve never seen anything before…”

“It’s just… It’s been a while since I’ve been outside, so it all feels new.”

“A while? You went to the convenience store to buy cigarettes just yesterday.”

“Ah…”

If I said anything more, I’d really end up in a psych ward.

“Sigh… Forget it. Let’s just say you’re hungover today.”

Father started walking again.

I shut my mouth and trailed behind.

But everything was still so strange.

Posters slapped all over a telephone pole on a corner.

Laundry flapping from apartment balconies.

A stray cat tearing open a garbage bag.

All of it—the scenery from 132 years ago.

*****

“We’re here.”

Father pointed to a shop sign.

[Junho’s Butcher Shop]

‘Ugh, so embarrassing… The shop’s named after me.’

In front of the store, faded red plastic chairs were stacked high.

Through the glass door, I saw the meat display.

Real meat.

Meat that actually came from slaughtered animals.

“Let’s go in.”

“Yes…”

The moment the door opened, a familiar scent hit me.

The smell of blood. The smell of raw meat.

Completely different from the cultured meat of 2157.

A butcher shop from 132 years ago.

This was my new workplace.

Suddenly, I felt curious.

‘What do I actually know about life 132 years ago?’

I pulled out the phone from my pocket.

Such a crappy interface.

One icon started with a ‘G’—it looked like a search program.

‘Aha! This must be the search function.’

No auto-search AI, no hologram—I had to tap everything by hand.

What should I look up?

‘March, 2025…’

My fingers paused.

But what was I even planning to search?

I had no clue what happened 132 years ago, nor what would happen in a month.

It was like asking someone today, “What happened on March 15, 1893?”

“Junho, are you talking to your phone now?”

“Ah… No.”

I shoved the phone back in my pocket.

Thinking about it, it was kind of funny.

How did people in 2157 learn about 2025?

‘Early 21st Century: Age of Climate Change and Pandemic.’

‘2020s: The Dawn of the AI Revolution.’

‘The last century when livestock farming existed.’

That was about it.

A few lines in the history textbook.

Besides, in history class—well, in any class not related to butchery—I always just slept.

“Father, do you know anything about the 1890s?”

“The 1890s? Why do you ask all of a sudden?”

“Just curious.”

“Well… Joseon era? Just before the Japanese occupation, I think?”

“About that, right?”

“Yeah, about that. Why, are you studying history?”

Same for me.

All I knew about life 132 years ago were a line or two from a textbook.

‘Wait, so what can I actually do in this era?’

Meat design? They don’t have the equipment here.

Future knowledge? 132 years is too big a gap.

Maybe technology?

But in 2157, all I knew was how to operate a hologram.

I’d never made anything with my hands.

It’s like…

“Ah… It’s like a modern man falling into the Joseon era—can’t even make a match, let alone a bomb.”

“What? Why are you mumbling to yourself again?”

“Ah… No reason.”

I let out a sigh.

I’d vaguely thought that coming from the future, I’d be able to do something awesome.

But 132 years was just too far—the things I could actually do just weren’t coming to mind.

“Junho.”

“Yes?”

“All I want is for you to work honestly and stay healthy.”

Father wrapped an apron around me.

“I’m not asking you for anything great. Just… don’t get drunk and pass out on the street. Just work steadily, day by day.”

“….”

“I’ll teach you how to handle meat.”

Father’s back was hunched as he turned away.

“Here’s the fridge, there’s the freezer. And this…”

He started explaining all around the Butcher Shop, but honestly, none of it registered.

‘Is this really real meat?’

Those bloody chunks in the display.

Real cuts from slaughtered animals, just like in the textbooks, right in front of my eyes.

“Hey, are you listening?”

“Ah! Yes, I am.”

“Good, sit down for now. Let’s talk over some tea.”

Father went to a small table in the corner.

He poured water from an old electric kettle.

“It’s your first time, so I’ll explain everything step by step.”

“Yes…”

“Do you know how hard it is to be a butcher these days?”

Father let out a deep sigh.

“The big supermarkets took everything, people buy meat online… The local Butcher Shop is dying.”

“You can buy meat online?”

“Of course. They deliver it super fresh in the morning. Cheaper than us, too.”

Father stirred his coffee as he spoke.

“And these days, American and Australian beef is everywhere. Hanwoo’s too expensive, so no one asks for it.”

“So much imported meat?”

“Yeah. The tariffs are low… FTA or whatever.”

Just then, the door opened and a customer walked in.

“Boss! Two geun of pork belly, please.”

“Welcome!”

Father jumped up. I stood as well.

“Ah, look who it is! Junho, right?”

“Ah… Hello.”

“It’s been so long! Weren’t you supposed to become a civil servant?”

“…”

“He’s decided to help at the Butcher Shop,” Father answered for me.

“That’s great! Not many people take over the family business these days. Junho’s Mom will be happy too.”

Aunt patted my shoulder.

“But boss, why’s pork belly so expensive these days?”

“Pig prices have gone up. Feed’s more expensive, too…”

“Ugh, meat costs as much as gold now.”

Father expertly sliced the pork belly. Every cut was precise.

“Here, I added a little extra for you.”

“Thanks as always. Junho, make sure you learn well!”

I could only nod awkwardly.

Father saw the customer out and came back inside.

“See? She’s a regular. Been coming here for fifteen years, since your mother was alive.”

“Fifteen years?”

“Sure. That’s what a local Butcher Shop is—regular customers.”

Father sat down again.

“To continue from before… There’s something new these days.”

“Something new?”

“Some… fake meat? Made from beans or something?”

“Fake meat?”

“Yeah. Beyond Meat, I think? Mixes beans and stuff to taste kind of like real meat.”

‘2025. Oh, right, this was when it all started.’

“Does it sell a lot?”

“Who knows. It’s expensive and doesn’t taste good. Not many people buy it.”

Father scoffed.

“No matter how much the world changes, meat is just meat. Fake stuff can’t match the real thing.”

“….”

But I knew.

In 132 years, the very idea of ‘real’ would vanish.

“And what’s the other thing? Lab-grown meat?”

“Cultured meat?”

“Oh? You know about that too?”

“Uh… Ah… Yeah, I saw it on the news.”

“That’s a joke, too. Meat from a lab? That’s just a lump of cells.”

I wanted to tell him he was wrong.

In 2157, those lumps of cells had completely replaced traditional livestock.

But I held my tongue.

“Father… What do you think will happen to the Butcher Shop?”

“Who knows… Honestly, it’s worrying.”

Father answered seriously.

“I wonder if any neighborhood Butcher Shop will survive in ten years. Everyone’ll go to supermarkets or order online.”

“What about us?”

“Us? We just hang on as long as we can. This is all I know how to do.”

He gave a bitter laugh.

Just then, another customer entered—a young man this time.

“Um… Could you recommend a cut for steak? I want to make a nice one for my wife’s birthday.”

“For steak? If it’s her birthday… I’ve got some 1++ grade striploin. Want to take a look?”

“Yes!”

Father showed him the meat, explaining.

He talked about the marbling, how many days it had been aged…

I looked at the cut and judged it in my head.

‘The marbling’s a mess. Too much intramuscular fat. Color’s too dark. By 2157 standards, this wouldn’t even be C grade…’

“Wow, it looks amazing!”

The customer was impressed.

Well… This is what 2025 is like.

“Junho.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll teach you step by step from now on, so learn well.”

“Yes.”

“And…”

Father hesitated a moment before speaking.

“You don’t have to take over the Butcher Shop. I’m just happy to have you with me, even for a while.”

My heart ached.

I thought of my own dad.

This man was truly this body’s father.

“I’ll work hard to learn.”

“Good.”

Father stood up.

‘All right, time to show my skills…’

“First, I’ll teach you how to hold the knife.”

Father picked up a butcher’s knife.

It was a hefty chunk of steel.

“Hold it like this…”

Suddenly, my mind went blank.

‘Wait, that’s right. I have to actually use the knife myself, don’t I?’

In 2157, everything was controlled by hologram gestures.

A single finger could cut with molecular precision…

“Here, you try.”

He handed me the gleaming butcher’s knife.

It was heavy.

But this is where it starts.

“Hold it like this…”

Father began his explanation.

“Now, cut this meat.”

“Yes…”

I brought the knife down.

Thud!

“Hey! What was that!”

I hadn’t cut the meat at all—just slammed into the cutting board.

“You’re supposed to saw with the knife! Why are you chopping like an axe!”

“Ah…”

I tried again, this time sawing…

Screech, screech—

The meat tore. It didn’t slice—it just ripped.

“Sigh… The angle’s wrong. Like this, on a slant.”

Father demonstrated.

Shik!

A clean slice.

“How hard can this be…”

It looked so easy.

In 2157, I’d designed meat with 0.01mm precision.

But…

“Try again.”

Screech—torn.

Shik—crooked.

Thud—cut too thick.

‘Ugh… Damn! This is so frustrating.’