Jin-woo was sweating.
Not because of stress. Not because of exams.But because the kitchen in the shared dorm lounge was filled with boiling ramen pots, a whiteboard with graphs, and thirty hungry freshmen staring at him like he was the CEO of Noodles, Inc.
"Welcome," he said, wiping steam off his glasses, "to Operation: Ramen Empire."
It had started the night before.
He was sitting on the floor, surrounded by empty ramen cups, calculator in one hand, chopsticks in the other.
Yuna stared at him from the couch, one eyebrow raised and both feet buried under a fuzzy blanket.
"You've eaten six ramen cups in three hours. That's not research. That's a cry for help."
Jin-woo didn't look up. "I've discovered a loophole in the campus economic system."
She snorted. "Oh no."
He dramatically pointed at his ramen. "This—this right here—is the currency of the modern college student. Forget crypto. Forget stock options. Ramen is stable, desirable, and always hot."
"…Unlike you."
He gasped. "Noona, that hurt."
She smirked. "You'll be fine. You're powered by delusion."
The next morning, he executed his plan.
With a stolen whiteboard (borrowed from a psychology class), he marched into the dorm lounge and declared:
"Are you tired of overpriced food on campus? Do you want lunch and financial security?"
A crowd gathered.Mostly freshmen. A few curious upperclassmen. One guy just looking for free utensils.
He held up a cup of Shin Ramyun.
"For just 700 won, I can provide you lunch, financial tips, and emotional support.*"
(*Ramen comes with no actual emotional support. Terms and conditions apply.)
Someone raised their hand. "Is this a cult?"
Jin-woo grinned. "Only if it's tax-exempt."
By noon, he had a "business model":
Buy ramen in bulk.
Cook it en masse in the dorm kitchen.
Sell at slight markup (+ fun banter included).
Repeat until empire is formed or someone reports him.
Yuna entered the lounge at 1 p.m., only to see her roommate in an apron, wearing a headband that said "RAMEN CEO", surrounded by students slurping noodles with the intensity of finals week.
"…I leave you alone for three hours."
Jin-woo turned. "Noona! Welcome! Would you like the VIP combo?"
"What's in it?"
"Ramen, a soda, and a napkin with a handwritten haiku."
"I swear to God."
He handed her a bowl. "For you, free. With a loyalty card."
"You made punch cards?!"
He beamed. "Every fifth bowl comes with a sock."
"…What."
🖼️ Bonus Illustration Description:
Scene: Jin-woo in the dorm kitchen wearing an apron and his "RAMEN CEO" headband, stirring five pots at once while students crowd around holding bowls. Yuna stands in the corner with crossed arms and a deadpan expression.
Caption:"Welcome to Ramen Capitalism. No refunds. No regrets."
Things were going too well.
Jin-woo had recruited three assistants, created an online pre-order form, and printed fake meal vouchers with his face on them. ("A Bowl Full of Flavor, A Face Full of Charm.")
But then came trouble.
Enter: RA Jihyun.
The dorm's responsible, slightly terrifying Resident Assistant.
She stood at the lounge door, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
"Jin-woo."
He froze mid-soup stir.
"Yes, my benevolent overlord?"
"What is this?"
He gestured to the room like a game show host. "Community bonding through noodles?"
"You've created an illegal food distribution network."
He coughed. "Illegal is such a strong word."
"There's a fire hazard. You're breaking hygiene rules. And one guy in line just bartered his phone charger for extra kimchi."
"That was innovative commerce."
"You're on thin ice."
Jin-woo saluted. "Then I'll slide with grace."
The ramen shop was shut down by 4 p.m.
The pots confiscated. The loyalty cards burned (probably). The whiteboard returned, albeit with a faint drawing of a cup noodle in sunglasses labeled "The Future."
Jin-woo slumped back into Room 402, apron still on, headband crooked.
Yuna looked up from her laptop. "So. Crime didn't pay?"
"It paid. Just… not for long."
She handed him a drink. "Still. Impressive. You got half the dorm addicted to spicy broth in 6 hours."
He sipped. "I'm like a culinary virus."
"More like ramen rabies."
They both laughed.
That night, Jin-woo stared at the ceiling.
"Noona?"
"Mmm?"
"If I ever run a real ramen empire… will you be my co-founder?"
"I don't even like ramen that much."
"Okay. CFO?"
"Still no."
"…Brand ambassador?"
She rolled over. "Fine. But only if I don't have to wear the headband."
"You'd look good in the headband."
"Jin-woo."
"…Fine."