In an era where people no longer even celebrate their hwangap [Translator’s Note: 60th birthday, traditionally a major life milestone in Korea], there was a man well past his sixties. He had dedicated his entire life to raising his children. The kids had all found their own paths and left, and his wife was living with her side of the family, dropping by only when she missed him. He wasn't exactly wealthy, but he had enough savings to get by comfortably and also received a pension.

Thinking he might as well travel, he scattered his money to the wind, visiting so many countries that there was hardly a place he hadn't been. Yet, every time he returned from a trip, he would always say, "Home is the absolute best."

The window he looked out every day, the cup he drank coffee from every day, the table, the chairs—every object in his house silently held its place, looking exactly like him.

He started watching YouTube to kill time, but his viewing sessions grew longer and longer. He was just watching to see how other people lived, but because the algorithm kept showing him only things strictly within his existing interests, he started to get annoyed.

As if knowing his exact age, his screen was flooded with ads featuring middle-aged female models targeting elderly men. When you get old, you should be like this, you should be like that, you must eat this, you shouldn't eat that, you should exercise like this, this is an easier workout... At first, he just let it be, but soon the ads outnumbered the actual content. He had to sit through ads every single time before watching what he wanted.

He knew how to skip the ads, but he couldn't be bothered. Even moving his finger felt like a chore. Then one day, it hit him. Why am I watching things I don't even like?

Why do I care so much about other people's lives? How do they know to pop up these ads and content as if they know me? For several months, he would wake up in the morning and ponder this deeply. Why?

He was being controlled by their algorithms, statistically categorized as just one of that demographic. He wasn't unique. He was just a worker bee raised within the educational system they had created. Work when you're young, and enjoy yourself when you're old... exactly the way we designed it.

When he was young, he feared nothing. But after meeting his love and having kids, a sense of responsibility kicked in, and he worked himself to the bone for a paycheck. Now, left all alone, he was surviving on instant ramen. Having eaten so much of it, he was currently putting all his effort into completely transforming its taste.

One day, a friend came to visit. This friend was a year or two younger but much more mature than him.

"What have you been up to lately?" "Same old, same old." "Anything good going on?" "Nothing much, other than trying to change the taste of my ramen." "Ramen?" "Yeah. Ramen." "Make me a bowl. Let me taste it and give you my review~" "Review, my foot. Ramen is just ramen!" "Didn't you say you're changing the taste?!?!! I love ramen too! Make me a bowl!" "Alright."

He opened the cabinet to look for ramen, but he was all out.

"Oh man~ I'm all out of ramen! I'll have to go down and buy some." "Why go down? Just order delivery." "No. I need to move around like this to keep the blood flowing~~!" he said as he headed out.

The friend sat on the sofa and looked around the room. It was neatly organized, and there were family photos from when the kids were young. When he returned with the ramen, his friend was dozing off on the sofa. "Hey! You've gotten old too! You fell asleep in that short time?!?!"

Startled, the friend snapped his eyes open. "Whoops, I must have dozed off for a second~~" "Hey, today it's doenjang [soybean paste] ramen. I never really liked doenjang, but putting it in ramen makes it a delicacy~. Tastes like something I had in Japan!" "Alright, let's see what you've got~!"

He chopped some green onions, onions, and garlic, and sautéed them in oil. Then he added some leftover pork neck, and when the meat was about half-cooked, he poured in water and stirred in a little doenjang. He added the ramen powder and flakes, threw in some chili powder, and stirred the noodles.

"Here you go~~ Bon appétit!!!" The friend picked up a chopstick-full and blew on it. Then he slurped it up. Slurp~~. "Wow! This is killer!"

The friend marveled at a taste he had never experienced in his entire life. "I've eaten doenjang jjigae my whole life, but adding doenjang to ramen brings out a whole new flavor~~" he said, polishing off the bowl in no time. "Man, this is too good to just eat by yourself! You should sell this~~!!!" "You think so???" "It's killer! It completely masks that generic instant ramen taste~ Everyone looks for that classic taste, but that's just what people with limited palates say... What's so special about that generic taste anyway? It's all the same! Hey! Let's open a ramen shop~~ I was looking for something to do anyway~~." "Punk! You're talking nonsense~~!!!" "I'm not joking! I have some money and was wondering where to spend it, and how rewarding would it be to serve people delicious ramen?!?! Cheaply! As long as we break even, right?" "Man, you're actually being serious~~!"

The two of them went around looking for a location, found a good one, and signed the lease. Afterward, using the know-how they had accumulated over their working lives, they easily wrapped up the renovations, designing it around the ramen-making process. The problem was whether people would actually pay for ramen, a food so incredibly easy to make. Once you taste it, the recipe is simple, so why pay for it? But people do pay for ramen. Most people find it bothersome to make it themselves just to get that taste. Some people can't even cook ramen. There are so many incomprehensible things in this world.

They found new vitality. He became the chef and took charge of the kitchen, while his friend handled waiting tables and the register. They didn't feel like hiring expensive part-timers. They were still physically fit, and waiting on 8 tables was a piece of cake compared to what they had done their entire lives. Having just one dishwasher lady was enough to keep things running. Perhaps it was beginner's luck, but a long line formed in front of the shop. And that line never shrank. Rumors spread on social media among young people that two grandpas were cooking up some killer ramen, and they went home every night endlessly counting money.

"Dad, can't you just give me this shop?" His daughter, whom he had raised lacking nothing, showed her greed. "Take it after discussing it with your brother once I'm dead!" he answered firmly. "My brother is a doctor, what are you worried about~ Just give it to me, now~~~ okay???” "You brat, in the old days your brother would have taken it all! You'd be left out in the cold. Like pants without an elastic band! You two figure it out among yourselves. After I die~~~!!!" "Jeez~~~!"

His friend's son came by and proposed franchising. He drafted a fancy proposal and presented it to his father. The friend looked over the proposal closely~~ "Who's going to do all this? You?" "I won't do everything myself, but I'll make sure it runs. Me~." "You want to be the boss?" "Since you created it, your son should be the one to grow it!" "Are you confident you can grow it?" "Of course!"

The two friends continued their conversation while counting money. "My daughter wants me to give her this shop." "My son wants to franchise it." "They're going to fight!" "You raise your kids, and all they care about is themselves; they don't give a damn about what we think!" "Tell me about it~~~!" "Let's not worry about them and just think about ourselves. As long as there's no problem between you and me, we're good, right?" "What problem could there possibly be? At this point in time~" "Right~~~!?!?!?"

The two continued their ramen business and built it into a large corporation. Drawing on 60 years of know-how and experience, they navigated everything with ease. Within 5 years, they became co-chairmen. They decided to gather only the best talents in the ramen industry, establish a hierarchy based purely on performance, and make the top performer the chairman. Handing it down to their kids seemed like it would only lead to fighting. They figured it was just their destiny.

"Hey, let's go grab some street noodles in Bangkok. They were killer when we were young, and I'm curious if they're still that good..." "Yeah~ Let's go. But what about our wives?" "Why are you bringing up the wives~ They're busy at the golf course. You and I need to have another drink!" "Great, great! Let's live it up for the first time in a while!"

The phrase "acting like an old fool" felt utterly unfamiliar to them. They had grown young in their old age.