My Dad is Too Strong-Chapter 322

Chapter 322
As the summer heat began to wane, early autumn set in.
September 1st marked the anniversary of her parents’ passing. As she reflected on how, during the first three years, she would break down in tears whenever this day arrived, Min-Ji let out a bittersweet smile. Was it a good thing that time had dulled her emotions, or should she mourn the fact that she was growing indifferent? Min-Ji wondered about it briefly.
The layers of dust in the kendo dojo were as thick as the years that had passed. She visited every year on this day, cleaning the place once a year, but it was impossible to restore it to its former pristine state.
After finishing the rough cleaning, Min-Ji put on the kendo uniform and gear hanging on the wall and picked up a bamboo sword.
The bamboo sword sliced through the air with a
woosh
, and the hollow reverberation echoed in her chest. She swung to vent the emotions that had dulled over the years. An hour passed before she removed her protective gear, exhaling in deep, heavy breaths. Her face and hair were drenched in sweat.
It almost felt as if she could still hear her father’s stern voice.
“Your stance is off again.”
“I told you, if you move like that, you’ll only hurt yourself!”
Back then, she had hated it. Especially on days when her mother wasn’t home, her father would make her practice her moves all day long. As a middle schooler going through puberty, she had wanted nothing more than to hang out with her friends, dress up, and go out to have fun. Yet, twice a week, she was required to head straight to the dojo after school.
I do miss it
, Min-Ji admitted to herself
.
She stepped out of the dojo and headed upstairs. The first floor had been the dojo, while the second floor was her family’s home. Now, it was just an empty shell, devoid of furniture or belongings. Still, the space alone was enough to evoke nostalgia.
She looked toward the kitchen, remembering how she used to sit there in silent frustration after practice, her lips pouting. When she refused to speak, her father would start cooking in the kitchen.
He lifted and tossed the frying pan, making fried rice. Her father always made fried rice. It was such a simple dish—just ham, kimchi, and carrots—but it was quite delicious. Maybe that was why, every time she took a bite, her sulky expression would melt away as if it had never been there.
Lost in her memories, Min-Ji quietly closed the door and left.
***
It was around 2 PM on a Sunday when she stopped by for a visit. Do-Jun, who had stayed behind to work alone, watched as Min-Ji gave him a small bow before sitting in the seat next to him.
She opened her laptop and said, “I’d like to help if that’s alright?”
The day before, Do-Jun and Min-Ji had explored a newly formed A-rank Great Fissure together. The mapping had gone smoothly, and they collected all the necessary data in just one day. However, the whole process of organizing the data, uploading it to the Fissure Management System, and reviewing it was time-consuming. Knowing this, Min-Ji suspected that Do-Jun would be working late. And she was right.
Do-Jun glanced at her.
I really appreciate the thought, but I’ve already finished most of it.
Normally, if he didn’t actively request help, that was how he would have responded. However, he also knew what September 1st meant to her. Do-Jun closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them before picking up the stack of documents on his desk and placing them on hers with a slight smile.
“There’s quite a bit. Are you sure you’re up for it?” he asked.
“Of course. It’s a great chance to earn some points with you, isn’t it, Supervisor Lee?” Min-Ji grinned cheerfully and shrugged her shoulders.
Do-Jun already knew how much work she had every day, but today, he chose to let her help anyway. The room was soon filled with the quiet sounds of typing and the clicking of the computer mouse as the clock hands ticked forward.
Five hours passed like that. The clock now pointed to seven. Most of the work had been completed, with just a little bit left.
“Hunter Han.”
“Yes, Supervisor Lee?”
“Should we grab dinner before finishing up?”
***
Due to the nature of their work, the Fissure Management Division often worked overtime, which meant their break room was well-stocked with kitchen supplies. It always had a variety of instant noodles, a rice cooker filled with fresh, warm rice made daily, and a refrigerator packed with different side dishes.
Do-Jun grabbed a frying pan and drizzled some cooking oil into it. He diced ham and carrots into small, thin cubes, then chopped some kimchi. Once the ingredients were prepped, he tossed them into the frying pan and began stir-frying them. The sizzling sound filled the air as smoke and the fragrant aroma of cooked kimchi rose from the hot pan.
“Are you making fried rice...?” Min-Ji asked Do-Jun.
“Yes. I figured this would be better than instant noodles. Is that alright?”
“O-of course, I’m not complaining. I was just surprised...”
Soon, Do-Jun finished cooking. The table was set with just two bowls of fried rice and no other side dishes. Its glistening red hue from the kimchi juice made it look irresistibly appetizing. Min-Ji stared at it for a long moment before carefully taking a spoonful.
Her eyes widened.
She took another bite. Then another. It tasted exactly like the fried rice her father used to make for her.
“Supervisor Lee, h-how did you make this...?” she asked in surprise.
“Do you like it?” Do-Jun asked in response.
“No, it’s not about whether I like it or not... Well, yes, it’s really good. But it’s just that...” Her voice trailed off.
A few moments later, Min-Ji had polished off her plate, leaving not a single grain of rice.
“Supervisor Lee, I know this might be a weird question, but I just have to ask...”
“Yes?”
“You can’t speak with the dead, can you...? Not even
you
could do that, right...?” Realizing how ridiculous that sounded, she let out an awkward laugh. “Never mind,
haha
... It’s just that this tastes exactly like the fried rice my father used to make.”
“That’s quite the compliment.”
Min-Ji hesitated, then lightly scraped the empty bowl with her spoon as if regretting that the meal was already gone.
Then, she spoke again. “I told you before, didn’t I? That my parents passed away.”
The first time Fissures appeared on Earth was eleven years ago. At that time, her parents had been killed by the Ancient Serpent, an A-rank monster. Because of that, Min-Ji suffered severe trauma whenever she encountered one. It was only in the past year that she finally overcame it.
“I don’t know all the details, but yes,” Do-Jun replied.
“My parents ran a kendo dojo. My father was a former professional, so naturally, he trained me in kendo as well. I hated it, but he was so stubborn about it that I had no choice but to follow along.”
She set her spoon down.
“Whenever I got upset about it, my father would make me fried rice. Just ham, carrots, and kimchi. And it was always delicious. You know how fathers always have that one dish they’re better at making than even mothers? For my dad, it was fried rice.”
Min-Ji chuckled at the nostalgic memory before her expression darkened slightly. “I used to argue with him all the time, saying, ‘Why should a girl learn kendo?’”
“I don’t think gender matters when it comes to pursuing something,” Do-Jun remarked.
“You’re right. It really doesn’t. If you want to do something, you should just do it. If you don’t, you shouldn’t have to. But you know what’s ironic? I actually liked kendo, hah.”
“Hm.”
“The only reason I complained was... that I felt different from the other girls my age. Girls usually don’t take an interest in something like kendo, you know? I was afraid that if they found out I practiced it, they’d think I was weird.”
Do-Jun didn’t fully understand, but he could vaguely grasp the concerns of a young student wanting to fit in.
Min-Ji said, “I don’t know why I felt so embarrassed about practicing kendo then. Looking back, if I had just told them, they probably would have thought it was cool.”
Do-Jun nodded in agreement.
“The reason I became a Hunter... well, it’s probably because of that influence. When I Awakened, I learned Moon Slash, and that was probably because I had trained in kendo. It allowed me to fully utilize my ability.”
Most Awakenings resulted in abilities that corresponded to a person’s talents.
Min-Ji glanced down at her palm, observing the calluses formed from years of training. They were proof of the path she had walked as a Hunter.
She said, “When people first started Awakening and Hunters began to appear everywhere, there were many people who thought like me. There was this idea that women shouldn’t be Hunters. Or if they were, they should only take on supporting roles for male Hunters.”
Back when the Encroachment first began, even women who had Awakened struggled to use their abilities to their full potential. Society viewed women as weak, timid, and incapable of keeping up with men. Despite those prejudices, Min-Ji had risen to become an S-rank Hunter after constantly pushing herself through countless obstacles.
“That’s why I worked even harder. I wanted to prove that female Hunters could be just as capable. Just as my father raised me to believe in equality, I wanted other female Hunters to have the same opportunities and not be judged simply for being women. So I trained relentlessly and hunted without rest.”
Min-Ji was smiling now, but it must have been an incredibly tough journey to reach this point. During a time when very few female Hunters existed, she bore the heavy responsibility of representing them.
“The world has changed because of people like you, Hunter Han,” Do-Jun said sincerely.
“I-I wouldn’t say that...”
“It’s not something that just happened on its own. The fact that we don’t use the term ‘female Hunters’ anymore and say just Hunters is proof. And that didn’t come easily,” Do-Jun argued. “It may seem small, but changing the world takes an incredible amount of effort. What you did was no small feat. You should take pride in that.”
For a moment, Min-Ji felt a lump forming in her throat. It was as if the past eleven years of struggle had been validated with a single sentence. She had fought for something no one had acknowledged, yet Do-Jun recognized it and sincerely praised her for it.
“Would you like another bowl of fried rice?” Do-Jun asked her.
Min-Ji discreetly wiped the corners of her eyes before flashing a smile. “Can I have two more...?”
Do-Jun nodded with a smile.
***
Perhaps it was exhaustion, but Min-Ji had dozed off on her desk without realizing it.
By 9 PM, all the work was completed. Yet Do-Jun didn’t wake her up. Instead, he quietly fetched a blanket and draped it over her. She had worked hard, and she deserved a little extra rest.
Do-Jun opened a drawer and pulled out a small, palm-sized piece of paper with faint traces of spiritual energy lingering on it. The ink on the page was fading. It was a fried rice recipe. At the bottom, three stars were drawn next to one key ingredient—beef MSG powder.
The paper, which had arrived from the afterlife, reacted to Do-Jun’s qi. A soft blue light flickered before the page gradually faded into nothing.