After the Divorce, a Treasure Map Made Me a 1,000-Trillionaire Chapter 6
“This time, it even has a time written on it…”
Which meant, of course, that this treasure could only be obtained at a specific time. The location alone wouldn't cut it.
“I need to figure out where it is first.”
It was Tuesday. And since the hint didn’t mention which Thursday, it was safe to assume it meant this upcoming Thursday.
So, I had two days to solve this.
I began sorting the clues, word by word.
"Black grill…" No idea what that could mean. “Pass.”
A few famous military names popped into my head.
Guan Yu, Lü Bu, Zhang Fei, General Chuk Jun-kyung…
Except for Chuk Jun-kyung, all of them were from Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
There were others like Admiral Yi Sun-sin, of course, but he was more of a "commander" than just a general in the common imagination.
“Okay… another pass.”
“Rising red with smoke.”
A general that rises red with smoke?
No matter how hard I thought, nothing clicked.
“Maybe it's referring to a beacon fire…?”
But that last part — rising red — just made no sense.
“Yeah, no… pass again.”
Only one line remained now:
"It speaks of the future’s secret."
Now that was something. There was a time attached, and this sentence had the word speaks.
Could the reward this time be information?
If the treasure was some kind of spoken intel, that would explain why the timing mattered so much.
That left one line to decode:
“On a black grill, a legendary general rises red with smoke.”
This had to be the location.
I closed my eyes and thought deeply.
Was there even a place in this modern world that used beacon fires anymore?
I gave up and turned to my modern savior — the internet.
At my desk, I typed four keywords into the search bar:
"Black grill, legendary general, rising smoke, Sillim-dong"
I hoped something would come up.
I removed one keyword and tried again:
"Black grill, legendary general, Sillim-dong"
This time, a few results popped up:
[Sillim-dong BBQ Hotspot: Best fresh pork!] [Top Samgyeopsal Restaurant near Sillim Station! Great for office dinners!]
I didn’t even need to click on them to guess they'd end with: “This review was written with sponsored support.”
Then something clicked.
That last part of the clue — rising red with smoke — wasn’t that exactly what happened at a Korean BBQ joint?
Add in the “black grill”… many places used black iron grill pans.
“A BBQ place that uses black grills!”
I switched my keywords and searched again:
"Legendary general, BBQ, Sillim-dong"
[Jangsu Meat — Best pork belly in Sillim!] [Jangsu Hanwoo — Value-for-money Korean beef in Sillim!]
More than I expected.
There were seven restaurants in Sillim-dong with “Jangsu” (meaning "longevity" or “general”) in the name.
Among them, three used black iron grill plates:
Jangsu Dwaeji (Longevity Pork)
Jangsu Gogi (Longevity Meat)
Jangsu Hanwoo (Longevity Korean Beef)
All three had “Jangsu” in the name and used black grills.
But there was one word I still couldn’t decode:
Did that mean the tastiest?
In terms of ratings, Jangsu Hanwoo had the highest. But ratings alone didn’t prove it was legendary.
“Guess I’ll start there.”
On Wednesday at 4 PM, the moment the restaurants opened, I headed to the first spot: Jangsu Dwaeji.
It had around ten tables and used a black grill. It fit the criteria.
But legendary? Not really. Just solid pork belly.
Next stop: Jangsu Gogi.
Another pork belly place, and the giant pig cartoon outside was already making me queasy from the meat I’d just eaten.
A server greeted me warmly and handed me a wet napkin.
“I’ll have two servings of—”
Then I looked at the table next to me… and froze.
“Wait… That’s not a black grill!”
Despite the reviews saying they used them, they clearly didn’t anymore.
I flagged down a passing worker.
“Excuse me, didn’t you guys used to use black grills?”
“Oh, the cast-iron ones? We replaced all of them when we remodeled. They were a pain to clean.”
Scratch that one off the list.
Thankfully, I hadn’t ordered yet.
“Sorry! My friend just canceled on me. I’ll come back next time.”
The final place: Jangsu Hanwoo, the highest-rated.
It was part restaurant, part butcher shop.
“One order of ribeye, please.”
Soon, a beautiful marbled cut of Hanwoo beef arrived.
But honestly, it still didn’t beat the U.S. short ribs I had yesterday at Gahojung, a fancy three-story beef place.
Could this really be the legendary one?
Then two middle-aged men walked in, talking loudly.
“So wait — how old was he when he died?” “I told you, 114! A hundred and fourteen years old!”
They didn’t lower their voices at all, even after sitting down.
“Lived a long time, huh?” “Yeah, that’s why Japan is known for longevity.”
Their conversation caught my attention.
Maybe I’d been looking at this all wrong.
Instead of focusing on places with "Jangsu" in the name, I should’ve focused on the actual oldest BBQ place in the area.
I grabbed my phone and searched:
“Oldest BBQ restaurant in Sillim-dong.”
Only one result appeared:
I Dropped Everything and Left
Leaving Hanwoo on the plate was almost sacrilegious, but the potential treasure was more important now.
The latest review for Sillim Restaurant was from two years ago.
Only four tables. Elderly owner. A hole-in-the-wall.
It could close any day.
I sprinted for over ten minutes and finally arrived.
Inside, no customers. Just a kind old woman watching TV.
She got up to greet me.
“Welcome, young man. Eating alone?”
“Excuse me, ma’am… how long have you been running this place?”
“Huh? Why do you ask?”
“I’m writing about old restaurants on my blog.”
“Blog? That’s like the internet, right?”
“Well then, I’ve been running this place for about 50 years. I think this is the oldest BBQ restaurant in Sillim now.”
This was it. I was sure of it.
Taste is subjective, but age is objective.
“So, what’ll you have?”
“I’ll come back tomorrow. Are you open then?”
“Sure, we’re open tomorrow.”
I arrived at 7:30 PM, well before the hint’s 9 PM deadline.
The owner recognized me.
“You’re the young man from yesterday! What’ll it be?”
“Two orders of skirt meat, please.”
“I’ll order soju in a bit.”
About 30 minutes into my meal, two men entered.
One in his 50s, the other younger.
These must be the ones.
They sat down and placed their order:
“Two bottles of soju and four servings of skirt meat, please!”
“All right, coming right up.”
Thursday, 9 PM. Black grill. Legendary longevity. Rising smoke.
All the clues lined up.
Now it was time for the reward.
“Thanks for all your help, hyung. Cheers!” “Cheers, brother.”
I tried to stay discreet but kept my ears wide open.
The bottles piled up. It was almost 9.
Was this the place? Was I right?
Then the younger man, clearly tipsy, spoke up:
“Hic… Hyung, don’t you have any tips for me this time? Come on, you tell everyone else…”
“Punk… you’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk. You're pouring soju into your rice bowl right now!”
The older man, clearly very drunk, laughed and fumbled.
“Come on, please… Help me out, just this once…”
The elder sighed, then pulled out a cigarette.
“Hic… fine. But you better keep this to yourself.”
“I swear! What is it?”
His voice dropped to a whisper.
The name of a stock? A company?
“Fifteen percent?! That’s it? What good is that?”
“You idiot. If you know it’s going up, borrow money, take loans—whatever. Ugh, forget it…”
I had it. The treasure.
“Ma’am, I’d like to pay.”
I handed her a 50,000 won bill.
“That’ll be 34,000 for two meats and a soju. Let me get your change—”
“The meat was amazing. I’ll be back.”
“Oh my! Thank you so much!”
I had gained a valuable tip. It was only fair to share a bit of the profit.
Smiling to myself, I returned to my goshiwon, already thinking about how I’d use this information to make more money.