Starlight Food started investigating how Starlight Rice, which was only exported to Japan, ended up being sold in Korea. They were curious how it had made its way into the Korean market.
The shocking truth was revealed.
“A domestic importer is distributing the rice directly from Japan, bringing it to Korea, and reselling it.”
“Wait… what? Did I hear that right?”
“Yes, you did.”
“Our Starlight Rice, which we sell to Japan, is being brought back to Korea and sold here?”
Of course, legally and procedurally, there was no issue. Starlight Rice had already been certified by the Korean Food and Drug Administration and had passed Japan’s notoriously strict quarantine inspections.
The only thing that could cause confusion was that the packaging was entirely in Japanese, with no Korean text, making it easy to mistake it for a Japanese product.
“But the tariffs are insane. Who’s buying this?”
The tariff on imported rice was a whopping 513%, a measure to protect domestic rice. After factoring in taxes and other costs, it ended up being 4 to 5 times more expensive than locally produced rice.
Domestically produced rice costs about 50,000 won for 20kg, while Starlight Rice, exported to Japan, was priced at around 100,000 won there.
“Yes. The rice listed on shopping sites is already sold out. Every time it’s restocked, it sells out immediately.”
Kim Sehee groaned as she saw Starlight Rice proudly listed on a popular Korean online shopping site. It was so popular that it had made it to the trending products section.
“It’s tastier than regular rice, but it’s at least 10 times more expensive than Korean rice. It’s amazing that people are buying and eating this.”
For most products, even a 100-won price difference can drastically affect sales. But this was 10 times more expensive. Normally, it wouldn’t stand a chance, but the unique taste of Starlight Rice was so exceptional that it overcame the price barrier.
“Honestly, how much would an average household even eat? A 20kg bag would last 1 to 2 months easily. For someone living alone, it could last half a year.”
In modern times, the demand for rice has been steadily declining. In the past, people ate rice with side dishes for all three meals, but nowadays, there are countless alternatives to rice. Some people might not even eat rice once a day.
“And our Starlight Food’s recent rise in consumer preference has played a big role too.”
The reputation of Starlight Food’s products for their exceptional taste had led to this positive outcome. Consumers trusted and bought their products. In the case of Starlight Rice, it had already been released once, so people who knew its taste spread the word.
It wasn’t for nothing that people were encouraged to try it at department store tasting booths. Consumers who tasted the food once ended up buying it, even if they didn’t need to.
“I didn’t expect importers to jump on this, but they’ve really exploited a loophole in the government’s system.”
Most people would think that rice tastes the same and opt for cheaper options. But Starlight Rice was different. Its taste was on another level. So, despite the high price, consumers were eager to buy it.
The importer, who had keenly tapped into this psychology, was likely making a tidy profit. And this profit was something the Korean government couldn’t stop. On paper and on the surface, it was all legal. The importer paid tariffs and sold it at the market price, so the government had no grounds to intervene.
Kim Sehee thought this situation wasn’t so bad. At least Starlight Rice was being distributed in Korea, even if through a roundabout way.
It was only a matter of time before public opinion shifted after people tasted Starlight Rice. The government would face a tough choice: abandon food self-sufficiency and listen to the public by allowing Starlight Rice to circulate, or maintain self-sufficiency by continuing to impose tariffs and block imported rice.
But for now, a small hole had been punched in Korea’s rice market dike. It was certain that this hole would eventually grow and cause a flood. The only question was when.
—————————————————————
“Whoa!”
I couldn’t help but marvel at the items on the office floor. Midterms were over, and to celebrate the official start of summer, the Research Institute had decided to set off fireworks.
Actually, it was a secret that I had suggested the fireworks after seeing them on TV. Did they do it because I openly said I wanted to?
Somehow, I felt embarrassed because it seemed like I was whining.
The floor was piled with fireworks. I imagined what would happen if I lit them up there.
The office would be filled with smoke, and as the fireworks burned, the entire office would catch fire and blaze fiercely. Of course, I didn’t actually do it. I’m not foolish enough to burn down the place I live.
I picked up the fireworks one by one to examine them. Some were shaped like tops, others like relay batons. Just by looking at the surface, it was hard to tell how they worked. Seeing the fuse, it seemed like I could light them, but unfortunately, I couldn’t do it in the office right now.
While I was fiddling with the fireworks, Haru appeared.
“Hana, what are you doing?”
Haru spoke after seeing me crouched on the floor.
“I’m looking at the fireworks.”
“Oh? We’re going to set them off soon. Do you have a favorite?”
It seemed like she was planning to hand me one to set off. I frowned as I looked at the fireworks. None of them really caught my eye.
“I’ll decide then!”
“Alright, alright. Take your time!”
With that, I went back to the room. I had offered to help with the fireworks preparations, but Bora brought me to the room, saying it was an adult thing. I’m an adult too, and I can handle fireworks just fine!
As I was killing time watching TV, it soon got dark outside. After the sun had completely set, Maru called me.
“Hana! It’s time to go!”
I quickly changed my clothes and dove into Maru’s arms. Maru picked me up with familiar ease. It was Autonomous Vehicle No. 3. No. 1 was Bora, and No. 2 was Haru. I quietly let myself be carried by the autonomous bio-robot.
A party was being prepared in the spacious backyard. There were three or four barbecue grills set up, and the table was piled high with various meats and vegetables. I drooled at the sight of the meat. In the corner, charcoal was being heated. It seemed like they were planning to grill the meat over charcoal.
They had also picked strawberries and vegetables from the field I manage. The plants I grow bear a lot of fruit, so there was more than enough for our office staff. In fact, it was overflowing. That’s because I had been using water soaked with my hair as fertilizer.
“Wow!”
I ran around the backyard. I always welcome this kind of party atmosphere. As soon as I arrived, the staff started grilling the meat. The smell of the meat made me hungry. I saw them divided into several groups, grilling meat.
I didn’t go near the group of men. It felt like I’d smell like a bachelor just by getting close. Instead, I joined the self-proclaimed “Meat Squad” where Maru, Haru, and Bora were gathered. When I arrived, Maru, holding tongs, greeted me.
“Hana, want to try some meat?”
She picked up a piece of well-cooked meat with the tongs and handed it to me. Like a baby bird receiving food from its mother, I opened my mouth and ate the meat. The overflowing juices with every bite made me happy. Meat with this much juice!
“This is really delicious!”
The meat was so delicious that it was incomparable to anything I’d eaten before. My eyes widened in amazement. Where did they get this meat?
“Maru, where did you get this meat?”
“It’s from Choi’s Farm. They feed their cows the rice straw we produce at Starlight Food. It’s really tasty.”
Maru also showed some quirky behavior, eating the meat while grilling. Normally, by this point, there should be a pile of cooked meat on the grill, but the busy chopstick action left no room for the meat to pile up. As soon as it was cooked, it was picked up with chopsticks and headed straight to the mouth.
I joined in too. Haru, Bora, and Maru each handed me a piece, and I was already on my third. I was so busy eating the meat they gave me that I couldn’t think straight.
