Chapter 10: The first content entry menu was decided to be Bibimbap (2)

Squish—

The wooden spoon plunged into the center of the half-cooked egg yolk.
Golden yolk burst out, oozing between the ingredients.

“Haaah…”

The appetizing flow of egg yolk.
I hadn’t even mixed it yet, and my mouth was already watering.

Squish, squish, squish—

I popped the other waiting yolks too.
The nutty sesame oil scent blended with the yolk, adding a glossy sheen to the rice and ingredients.

‘Alright, here we go…’

Time to get serious.

With chopsticks in one hand and a spoon in the other, I attacked the mixing bowl with abandon.

Schlick schlick.

The ingredients started blending with a sticky sound.

The spicy seasoning aroma, the savory soy-seasoned sprouts, the pickled radish scent—all mixed with the nutty yolk and sesame oil, creating an insanely delicious smell.

The only flaw in this otherwise perfect bibimbap?

You have to wait until it’s fully mixed, drooling in anticipation.

“Ah! I can’t wait anymore!”

Sadly, I’m not patient enough to wait for it to be perfectly mixed.

Scooping a spoonful of partially mixed bibimbap, some rice and side dishes still speckled with red seasoning came up.

Straight into my mouth.

“Wahp!”

My eyes met my reflection on the phone screen as I shoved the spoon in.

I’d never seen myself eating before, but I looked happier than anyone I’d ever seen.

And honestly, I was happy.

Crunch. Crunch.

The sound of chewing soybean sprouts and young radish kimchi filled my ears.

Sound is key in modern mukbangs.
I chewed with my mouth slightly open to capture it.

The taste was a bit bland.
But the perfectly seasoned sprouts and radish gave it a unique charm even unmixed.

Gulp.

Eating this unfinished bibimbap made me insanely curious about the fully mixed flavor.

‘…Don’t give in to the smell this time.’

Determined, I mixed the bowl with newfound vigor.

Bottom to top, top to bottom.
Schlick schlick, squish squish.

Possessed by a 7-star hotel chef, I finished mixing perfectly, leaving no white rice untouched, a harmonious blend of ingredients before me.

With reverence, I scooped a heaping spoonful.

Red-mixed rice, moist yolk-coated egg bits, and more piled high.
Below, seasoned radish and sprouts dangled, teasing the texture to come.

Gulp.

‘What will it taste like to chew all this in one bite?’

What kind of flavor will surprise me?
I could guess, but that only heightened my excitement.

Determined not to drop a single grain, I tilted my head and opened wide.

“Hyaahp!”

Shoop. Every grain went in.
The moment it hit my tongue, I screamed internally.

So, so! So so delicious…!

“…”

I stared blankly into space, forgetting to chew.

Sweet yet spicy gochujang, rich but nutty yolk, perfectly seasoned sprouts and radish, tangy yet sweet young radish kimchi…

‘Is there a more perfect combination?’

I finally understood why people rave about bibimbap to foreigners, why it represents Korean cuisine.

GROOOWL!!

My stomach roared, angrier than ever, at my pause.

‘Right. I can’t just sit here marveling.’

To savor that first bite’s aftertaste more deeply, I carefully started chewing.

Fluff—
Fluff fluff.

The seasoned egg gently enveloped my tongue.
A cozy, spicy-savory texture. A perfect first bite.

Next, I chewed the gochujang-soaked sprouts and radish.

Crunch. Crunch.
Crisp.

The already well-seasoned sides, paired with spicy gochujang, pushed umami to the max.

Add the nutty yolk and sesame oil-coated rice, and it was pure heaven.

Gulp.

The half-cooked yolk made swallowing an art.

“So… so good…”

“Too too good!”

The mountain of bibimbap in the bowl was gone in under three minutes.

“No, no way… It’s over already…?”

Judging by the bowl’s size, I ate over three portions, but I could easily handle five more.

‘A taste you never tire of.’

And a taste I might never have again.

This bibimbap’s perfection was only possible because of Jihoon’s mom’s skill.
Store-bought sides wouldn’t come close.

“What do I do… Should I eat instant ramen?”

Slumped over the table in despair, a nagging feeling made me look up.
My eyes met my face on the phone screen.

“Oh, right, I was recording.”

The bibimbap was so good I forgot I was filming for the contest and just ate.

Ding.

I tapped to stop recording, and a notification showed a 3-minute-32-second video saved to my gallery.

‘The contest said videos can’t exceed 1 minute, right?’

I opened the ‘TokTok’ app to double-check the rules.

– Must be self-produced.
– Must not be posted elsewhere.
– Ensure videos do not exceed 1 minute.

My video was 3 minutes 32 seconds.
I needed to trim it down to a 1-minute highlight reel.

[Video Editing Tips]

Luckily, the app had built-in editing tools.

Before editing, I decided to watch the full video to get a sense of the flow.

‘…And I’m curious.’

I’d never seen myself eat from a third-person perspective.

Tap.

Hitting play, the video started with untouched bibimbap and my face.

– Here we go—I’ll eat well!

Still camera-shy, I looked awkward, more aware of myself than the food.

– Hyaahh…
– Ah! I can’t wait!
– Wahp!

Now tasting the bibimbap, I started focusing on the food, not the screen.

– So… so good…
– Too too good!

In a trance.
Oblivious to the camera, my mind was all bibimbap and the next bite.

– No, no way… It’s over already…

Finally, my despairing self, eyes teary, staring at the empty bowl—a pitiful, heart-wrenching sight that made me want to rush to a kimbap shop and order bibimbap.

‘Subtitles… Nah, I don’t need them.’

Other mukbangs add captions about taste, but my video didn’t seem to need them.
My expressions and actions said it all.

– …

The video ended, and my dazed, open-mouthed face stared back from the black screen.

“Ahem! Cough!

Alone, I felt embarrassed and coughed for no reason.

‘Phew…’

The me on screen is a tougher opponent than I thought.
Making serious old me make such goofy faces?

…Okay, focus. Time to edit.

“Press this to set a cut point, scissors to trim… There’s a subtitle button? Don’t need that…”

Watching the video helped me identify what to keep or cut, making editing easy.

And above all…

‘It’s fun!’

Editing a video of myself, tweaking it however I want, was surprisingly exciting.

Have I ever found anything this fun?

Never. Everything always felt boring, so I didn’t want to do it.

But now?
My fingers flew across the screen like they had wings.

Tap, tap tap tap.

Cut unnecessary parts, stitch the needed ones.

When I load food on the spoon and shove it in, that’s the moment to zoom in for impact.
Then back out for the next bite.

Muttering totypography, I edited away happily.
How much time passed?

“Done!”

My first video edit was complete.

It was mostly just trimming, but the pride and satisfaction were unreal.
Creating something with my own hands felt incredible.

“Time to see the masterpiece.”

It’s just a 1-minute video, but calling it a ‘masterpiece’ boosted my pride.

Tap.

The 3-minute-32-second video, now 59 seconds, played back.

– Wahp!
– Hyaahh…

For a first edit, it felt smooth, no awkwardness.
But the problem was…

Slurp.

…Slurp slurp.

I… am way better at mukbang than I thought.

I made and edited this video, yet I’m drooling like it’s my first time watching, imagining the bibimbap’s taste.

I’m losing it.
I need to finish uploading before I raid the convenience store for a bibimbap lunchbox or instant ramen.

Checked the contest entry box.

Tap, tap.

‘Upload!’

[Uploading… 59%, 87%, 99%…]

[Upload complete.]

[‘Bibimbap Mukbang!’ successfully posted.]

My first mukbang and contest video was now out in the world.

The new video app ‘TokTok’ mainly attracted users from their late 20s to early 40s, a surprisingly diverse crowd.

Late-20s women, struggling to stand out on the oversaturated ‘TikTok,’ posted provocative videos to gain early subscribers and climb the ranks.

Men in their 30s and 40s, lured by ads while gaming, got hooked on these videos and became users.

They coexisted, creating and consuming content they desired, like crocodiles and crocodile birds.

But now, in this spicy, provocative world…

– Here we go—I’ll eat well!

A soft, white, bunny-like girl appeared, holding a mixing bowl bigger than her face.