“Doing YouTube is great, but don’t overdo it.”
“Don’t worry, hyung. I’m being careful.”
Gu Eun-woo knew how much his older brother, Gu Yoo-joon, cared and worked hard for him. That gratitude was always in his heart.
“Alright, we’ve got the hospital tomorrow, so don’t stay up too late.”
Yoo-joon left his brother’s room and headed to his makeshift bed in the kitchen. He spread out a simple mat and collapsed onto it.
His body felt heavy as lead, exhausted, but seeing the bright smile recently blooming on his illness-shadowed brother’s face made the fatigue vanish.
With a sigh of relief, Yoo-joon slipped into sleep.
But the next morning, under the bright sunlight, his heart remained tangled at the thought of the hospital visit.
Sitting beside him, Eun-woo’s expression was noticeably buoyant, unlike usual. His symptoms had visibly lessened, and his condition had improved, making him unable to hide his excitement for the visit.
“Hyung, do you think… we’ll hear really good news today?” Eun-woo’s voice carried cautious but earnest hope.
Yoo-joon’s chest tightened, fearing that small hope might shatter. Unable to ignore his brother’s expectation, he forced a bright smile.
“Of course! You’ve been eating well and laughing a lot lately. You’re definitely better. I guarantee it!”
Deep down, unease lingered like a shadow. Eun-woo’s recent improvement was undeniable, but past fleeting recoveries that later worsened made Yoo-joon wary of hope.
Still, he could never show that to his beloved brother.
At the hospital, Eun-woo chatted with Yoo-joon more than ever, a stark contrast to his usual slumped shoulders and sullen face due to his illness.
For Yoo-joon, who cherished even small changes, his brother’s lively demeanor brought a sliver of relief.
“Nice to see you, Eun-woo,” the attending professor greeted with his usual warm smile, noting Eun-woo’s improved complexion.
“How’s your condition lately?”
“The pain’s a lot less, I’m not as short of breath, and… my body feels lighter,” Eun-woo answered honestly.
The professor’s eyes subtly shifted. “Good to hear. Mind lifting your shirt?”
With a professional gaze, he carefully pressed the stethoscope to Eun-woo’s body.
Yoo-joon held his breath, tense, waiting for the professor’s words.
“Your heartbeat and breathing… they’re remarkably stable compared to before.”
At those words, both brothers’ faces lit up. Yoo-joon looked ready to cry.
Noticing his trembling shoulders, the professor cleared his throat and continued, “Ahem, let’s run some tests today to be sure.”
“Yes, Professor. Thank you,” Yoo-joon said, bowing deeply, almost reverently.
After long, tedious tests, the professor reviewed Eun-woo’s results. His bright smile told Yoo-joon the news was good, though his heart pounded.
“It’s… truly unbelievable!” the professor exclaimed.
“Eun-woo’s peripheral nerve test results have improved miraculously! The nerve responses causing his symptoms are nearly normal. Not only that, his heart function tests are highly positive. His overall physical vitality has noticeably increased.”
The professor’s voice was filled with rare astonishment.
“Is… is that true?! Really?!” Yoo-joon choked, suppressing overwhelming emotions.
Eun-woo’s eyes widened like a rabbit’s, stunned by the news.
“Yes, it’s certain. I’ve never seen a case like this. Such rapid, significant improvement is incredibly rare,” the professor said, giving Eun-woo a thumbs-up. “Great job, Eun-woo!”
“Wow, hyung! It’s real! I wasn’t just imagining feeling better!” Eun-woo couldn’t contain his joy.
Deep down, he’d been resigned to the pain and hardship. But moving here changed everything.
Meeting the kind yet enigmatic restaurant ajussi, the bright and transparent Ji-an, and finding each day new and fun—perhaps these positive changes helped his recovery.
“Eun-woo… thank goodness…” Yoo-joon finally let his tears fall, pulling his brother into a tight embrace.
His hands trembled as he patted Eun-woo’s back.
“Thank you, hyung,” Eun-woo said, hugging him back, his voice quivering with joy, relief, and deep gratitude.
Leaving the hospital, both brothers’ faces bloomed with rare smiles, their steps light as if a burden had lifted.
“We can’t just sit still on a day like this! Eun-woo, let’s eat out somewhere nice! I’ll get you anything you want!” Yoo-joon said energetically.
Eun-woo’s eyes sparkled as he thought for a moment. “Then let’s go to ajussi’s restaurant.”
“Huh? There? Oh, you’re worried about the cost?” Yoo-joon assumed his brother was being frugal.
“Don’t worry, Eun-woo. I’m not that broke. I can treat you!”
He patted Eun-woo’s back reassuringly.
“No, hyung! It’s not about money—it’s about the taste! Ajussi’s food is so good. You’ll be shocked when you try it! Especially the special apples he gives me… they’re the best!”
Eun-woo’s eyes shone with sincerity.
“It’s that good?” Yoo-joon was taken aback by his brother’s enthusiasm.
He hadn’t expected much from a modest restaurant in an out-of-the-way location with a limited menu.
“Alright, if you’re that excited, we’ve gotta go!”
Smiling brightly, Yoo-joon headed to Sang-woong’s restaurant.
“Welcome… oh, Yoo-joon-ssi!” Sang-woong greeted, surprised to recognize him.
“Hello, boss,” Yoo-joon said with a genuine smile. “I should’ve come by to say hi sooner.”
“No worries. Eun-woo told me you’ve been busy. Have a seat.”
“Thank you.”
Following Sang-woong’s lead, Yoo-joon glanced around. The large open kitchen and sparse menu board didn’t scream “gourmet.”
Hungry from skipping breakfast for the hospital, Eun-woo ordered first. “Ajussi, I’ll have katsu. Hyung, what about you?”
“Uh… I’ll have doenjang jjigae,” Yoo-joon said, picking the first item on the menu.
The food arrived quickly. A appetizing katsu was placed before Eun-woo, and a steaming clay pot of doenjang jjigae with neat side dishes for Yoo-joon.
“Enjoy,” Sang-woong said, returning to the kitchen.
This is supposed to be amazing? Looks like ordinary jjigae… Yoo-joon thought, scooping a spoonful of glossy rice without much expectation.
His eyes widened instantly. “What… what is this rice? How can it taste this good?!”
The deep, rich sweetness and texture of each grain shocked him. It was as if the rice danced in his mouth. He’d never tasted anything like it.
“See? Told you!” Eun-woo grinned, as if expecting the reaction.
The meal was joyful. Eun-woo’s illness was improving, and his face, long weighed by pain, glowed with a rare smile.
“Hyung, try this too.” Eun-woo offered the special apple he said only Sang-woong gave him.
Biting into it, Yoo-joon was struck by the crisp texture and fragrant sweetness filling his mouth. Another shock after the rice.
An apple this delicious exists?!
His gratitude for Sang-woong, who generously gave such precious apples to his brother, swelled in his chest—especially since he’d also lowered their rent by 100,000 won.
Yoo-joon’s gaze followed Sang-woong’s back as he ate, wondering, Who is this guy?
Unaware of Yoo-joon’s thoughts, Sang-woong offered an awkward smile whenever their eyes met.
“Nice day.”
The morning sun was dazzlingly bright.
Sang-woong prepared to head to the restaurant, grabbing his wallet and phone.
His phone screen lit up with a name. “Oh, it’s Hae-jin.”
His brother Park Hae-jin’s call stirred a pang of guilt for neglecting him in his past life.
Since his regression, he’d only spoken to his Seoul-based brother over the phone, never meeting in person due to his busy schedule.
“Hello?”
“Hyung, it’s me. How’s the restaurant going?”
Hae-jin’s polished voice, honed by years as a celebrity manager, rang clearly, a far cry from his clumsy childhood tone.
“It’s doing alright. How about you?”
Hae-jin paused before answering, unlike his usual upbeat self. “Honestly… not great.”
Surprised, Sang-woong tried to recall if Hae-jin had faced struggles around this time. But those memories were old, and back then, he’d been too consumed by hunter work to notice his brother’s daily life.
As brothers, they rarely shared deep personal matters.
Hae-jin hesitated, then continued, “So, I’ve got a favor to ask.”
Sang-woong was startled again. Hae-jin had never asked for help in his past life.
Carrying guilt for not being a better brother, Sang-woong felt a mix of joy and emotion at Hae-jin’s request.
“A favor? What is it? If I can help, I’ll do anything.”
Sang-woong’s voice was eager, almost delighted.
In his past life, Hae-jin had shouldered their parents’ care and family matters alone. Sang-woong had justified his absence with his hunter duties, contributing only small sums of money. He wanted to make up for it now.
Relieved by Sang-woong’s willingness, Hae-jin took a breath and began.
“Hyung, the celebrity I’m managing is in a tough spot. Schedules are thin, and image management is tricky. Could you… help out?”
The hesitation and earnestness in Hae-jin’s voice told Sang-woong this wasn’t a small matter. As a manager, Hae-jin’s struggles likely tied to his celebrity’s career.
“What kind of help? Be specific,” Sang-woong asked calmly but seriously.
“Well… your restaurant’s getting some buzz. People say the food’s amazing and the vibe’s unique. I was thinking… maybe our celebrity could film there? Like, for YouTube or SNS content. It’d be a big boost for them.”
Sang-woong paused. His restaurant was more than a business—it was his new life post-regression, tied to the Afua tribe’s secret realm. But he couldn’t refuse his brother’s heartfelt plea.
“Hmm… filming, huh? Who’s the celebrity?” he asked cautiously.
“Her name’s Kim Yerin. You might’ve heard of her. She was big in a drama a few years back but has been struggling lately. She needs a breakthrough.”
Sang-woong nodded, recalling Kim Yerin’s name from his past life. She’d shone brightly once but faded in the competitive entertainment world.
“Alright, filming at my place is fine. But what kind of content? Just eating? Or something specific?”
Hae-jin’s voice brightened. “Wow, hyung! Thank you! We don’t have a solid plan yet, but maybe Yerin could eat there naturally on camera. Oh, and if possible, include that cute cat and dog. Animal content is huge right now.”
“Pink and Leon?” Sang-woong chuckled. “Eun-woo said they’re picky. But I might get them to cooperate. Let’s try it.”
“Really? You’re the best! I’ll coordinate with Yerin and let you know. Oh, and… could you share some of those special apples with her? Eun-woo raved about them.”
Sang-woong smiled. Those “special apples” weren’t ordinary—they were grown in the Afua tribe’s land, infused with magical energy that uplifted vitality and offered minor healing. They likely contributed to Eun-woo’s recovery.
“Apples? Haha, they’re rare… but for you, I’ll make an exception. What’s Yerin like? I’m not great with difficult types.”
“Don’t worry. Yerin’s really nice. A bit shy, but she gets along well. You’ll click with her.”
“Alright, I’ll trust you. Let me know when.”
Hanging up, Sang-woong felt warmth in his chest. Helping his brother and giving someone a new opportunity filled him with joy.
Days later, the restaurant was abuzz. Hae-jin arrived with Kim Yerin, who entered looking plainer than expected, her face slightly nervous.
“Hello, boss. I’m… Yerin. Hae-jin oppa said you’d help a lot.”
Yerin bowed slightly, her voice soft but sincere.
“Uh… welcome. Have a seat,” Sang-woong replied, a bit flustered. Seeing a celebrity up close was new for him.
Hae-jin laughed, easing the mood. “Hyung, relax. Yerin’s super nice. We’ll just film her eating naturally. I’ll set up the camera.”
Sang-woong nodded and returned to the kitchen, though he worried about how Pink and Leon would react to a stranger and whether this would truly help Yerin.
The food arrived: katsu for Yerin, doenjang jjigae for Hae-jin, and the special apple as dessert.
Yerin took a bite of the katsu and gasped. “Wow… this is amazing! How is the meat so tender? What’s the secret?”
Sang-woong smiled awkwardly. “Just… good ingredients and care.”
The katsu’s meat came from animals raised in the Afua tribe’s magical land, giving it unmatched tenderness and flavor.
“And this apple…!” Yerin bit into it, speechless. “What is this? Can apples be this sweet and fragrant?”
Hae-jin, curious, tried it and was equally stunned. “Hyung… is this really an apple? I’ve never tasted anything like it!”
Sang-woong just nodded, smiling. “I told you it’s special. Take your time.”
The filming went smoothly. Yerin ate comfortably, smiling naturally for the camera. Surprisingly, Pink and Leon behaved, adding charm to the shoot.
Afterward, Yerin bowed deeply. “Thank you, boss. Eating such delicious food and filming here… I was so happy. This video will definitely get love.”
Sang-woong waved it off, embarrassed. “It’s nothing. Thanks for enjoying the food.”
Hae-jin chimed in, “Hyung, seriously, thank you. This is huge for Yerin. Can we come back?”
“Of course. Anytime.”
Sang-woong smiled, warmed by fulfilling his brother’s request and helping someone find a new opportunity.
That night, closing the restaurant, he looked at the moon, glowing peacefully. The Red Moon’s terror felt distant.
“I need to get stronger…” he murmured, resolving to protect his restaurant and the Afua tribe’s land, and to honor the trust of those he loved.