The Delicious Taste of Adversity

[Federicco]

I have a story for you today.
Johann was a picky eater—so picky that no restaurant (almost) ever seemed good enough for him.
His high standards made him hard to please.
But one day, he was kidnapped, and that unexpected event changed his life forever.
Through a clever scheme, he escaped. And strangely enough, what should have been his worst nightmare became his gold mine—
he walked away richer than before.
But it wasn’t just money he gained. He also learned something from it.
I didn't write this story, I only contributed some ideas.
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Johann Weisman had everything: good income, status, and a life of extravagance. A celebrated doctor turned businessman, he lived in a world where nothing came cheap. He scoffed at meals below $20, considering them an insult to his refined palate.

One evening, to celebrate securing a new contract, Johann and his business partner Hans set out in search of a fitting restaurant in Vienna. Their demanding tastes and fussiness turned the search into a prolonged ordeal, as they scoured the city for an establishment that could match their impossibly high standards—even though every venue they encountered was among the most expensive in town. They sneered at each upscale spot, dismissing the polished menus and lavish decor as unworthy. At one glittering venue with sky-high prices, Johann spat, "This dump has the unrefined charm of a grimy cafeteria built for drifters," while Hans derided another, branding it "a pathetic food truck on wheels that dares to charge extortionate rates." At yet another high-end restaurant, Johann smirked and added, "This looks like a place for the homeless." Their disdain was palpable, their arrogance unrelenting.

After nearly 4 hours of scrutinizing menus and scoping out venues, they finally settled on an upscale location that promised a first-rate experience. Fueled by aged whiskey and expensive cigars, the pair indulged freely, their laughter growing louder as the night wore on. Eventually, they were kicked out after only seventy minutes—abruptly told it was closing time. They staggered out into the city streets, their judgment clouded by their revelry. They didn’t notice the black van parked nearby until it was too late.
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The van screeched forward, headlights blinding. Before Johann could react, rough hands yanked him back. A hood was shoved over his head, muffling Hans’s protests as they struggled. Their kidnappers moved swiftly, bundling Johann into the van while leaving Hans behind. Johann’s world blurred into darkness.

Johann’s new reality began in a dim room in the beautiful rural town of Bad Goisern on Lake Halstatt. His 2 kidnappers' goal was to demand a ransom of 2 million.

The two kidnappers sat slouched in the dim room, their cigarettes dangling lazily from their fingers. A half-empty bag of fast food sat between them, grease stains spreading across the table. They were talking with an east German accent.

"Bro, this job takes it outta you," the first kidnapper muttered, tossing a handful of chips into his mouth. "Good thing we got burgers and chips. Need the energy to keep this guy in line."

"Yeah, it’s no easy job. Makes me nervous sometimes, but the smokes keep me steady. I couldn’t go on without ‘em."

"They’re good for the lungs too."
"When I was little, on my way to school, I always felt envious of my grandpa, he'd sleep in everyday, and after he woke up, he'd do nothing, no work, no school. Poor me....."

"Don’t worry—after we get the money, we’ll be set for life. A life of eating & drinking without work,.... Just happy days ahead."
"Yeah, our dream lifestyle is not far away...Ha, ha..."
Then they started to laugh, which got louder and louder, their mouths stretching wide, exposing every inch of their cigarette-stained front teeth.
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Eventually, the kidnappers dragged themselves back to reality and walked into Johann’s room, the ransom note clutched tightly in the first one's hand.

"Alright, doc," the first kidnapper said, leaning against the doorway with a smirk. "Time to make your family cough up the cash. Two million bucks—that’s all we’re asking. Not too much."

The second chimed in, "Yeah, they’ll pay to get you back. I mean, who wouldn’t? You’re worth it, right?"

Johann, calm and composed, met their gaze. "My family’s wealth has declined a lot, We don’t even have two thousand, let alone two million. They won’t pay you two million."

The 2 kidnappers looked at each other for a while, then the first kidnapper’s smirk faltered, replaced by a confused frown. "What’re you talking about? You’re rich!"

Johann shook his head. "Not anymore......Aren't you afraid of punishment after death?"

The two kidnappers felt silent, the second scratched his head, "I don't know what you're talkin about....look, your family must cough up at least 1 million..."

Johann: "You're wasting your time..."

The two kidnappers looked at each other, not knowing what to say.....

 

[Federicco]

What did Johann do to escape from his kidnappers?
How did the kidnap benefit Johann after his escape?
What's the theme of this story? It might not be what you think.

 

[timothyu]

Cliff-hanger

 

[Federicco]

The two kidnappers looked at each other, not knowing what to say.....
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The two kidnappers grew increasingly frustrated. A few hours later, they inspected Johann's clothes and took most of his money and valuables away, leaving only some coins.

Johann’s response remained unchanged, and boredom crept into the kidnappers’ routine, dulling their edge. Cigarettes became their distraction, their escape from the monotony. They smoked constantly, the acrid fumes filling the small room.

Noticing this, Johann attempted to turn the situation to his advantage. “This air,” he said one evening, coughing dramatically. “It’s unhealthy. You’re smoking yourselves to death, and you’re taking me with you.”

The kidnappers laughed dismissively. “No, you’re bluffing, doc,” one of them sneered, exhaling a plume of smoke. “We’ve been smoking our whole lives, and we’re fine. I don't think it's harmful.”

Johann frowned, retreating into silence. He bided his time, observing them as they grew more restless and started chain-smoking even more.

Over the next few days, the smoke thickened, clinging to the air like a suffocating fog. Johann, who had been coughing intermittently, noticed the kidnappers themselves beginning to cough more frequently. They rubbed their throats, visibly annoyed.

Sensing his opportunity, Johann struck again. This time, his words carried more weight. “You see? Even you can’t ignore it anymore. This air is toxic,” he rasped, clutching his chest. “It’s not just me—it’s affecting you too.”

The kidnappers, though still skeptical, exchanged uneasy glances. Their growing discomfort validated Johann’s claims, and he seized on their hesitation. “If I die,” he said weakly, “you lose everything. No ransom. You’ll have nothing to show for your trouble. I need a specific medicine to counteract this.”

Their resolve finally faltered. Reluctant but desperate to keep him alive, they asked Johann what medicine he needed. Johann provided them with a list of ingredients: vinegar, ground nutmeg, crushed chili peppers, and adelwez. He explained that the ingredients must be cooked together and insisted the concoction be prepared with all windows closed to retain potency.

 

[Federicco]

Johann explained carefully, emphasizing that the ingredients must be cooked together in precise proportions to ensure the mixture’s potency. He insisted the concoction be prepared with all windows tightly shut, claiming that even the faintest draft could weaken its effectiveness.

Knowing nothing of the risks, the kidnappers followed his instructions, bolting the windows and sealing every crack.

The small, dimly lit room grew increasingly stifling, the air turning thick and oppressive.

As the mixture simmered on their wood-burning stove, an ominous transformation began.

A new toxic gas crept into the room, its presence subtle but a bit dangerous. Apart from that, the lack of ventilation caused carbon monoxide levels to rise imperceptibly, unnoticed by the kidnappers who remained focused on their ransom plans.
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Johann, fully aware of the consequences, stayed low to the ground, breathing the marginally clearer air near the bottom edge of the door. From his position, he watched intently as the effects of the gas began to take hold. Gradually, their movements slowed, their once-brisk actions reduced to sluggish, clumsy gestures. Their speech became slurred and incoherent, their heads drooping as if weighted down by invisible hands. Johann remained still, his heart pounding, as the room sank into a suffocating silence.

One by one, they fainted. The older among them slumped heavily against the wall, his cigarette slipping from his limp fingers to the floor below. The other stumbled forward, falling to his knees as he mumbled something incomprehensible before collapsing in a motionless heap.
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Though Johann felt the effects himself—his head swimming, dizziness threatening to overwhelm him—his resolve kept him alert. He forced himself to remain focused, waiting patiently until the room was completely silent. Only then did he act.

With trembling hands, he reached for the guard’s belt, carefully unclipping the keys that hung loosely from it. His actions were deliberate but desperate, his caution born of necessity.

Finally, the lock gave way, and Johann stepped through the door into the cool night air.

The sudden rush of oxygen hit him like a wave, clearing his senses and sharpening his focus. The crisp freshness of the outdoors revitalized him as he stumbled forward, away from the place that had held him captive. Each breath felt like liberation, and with every step into the shadowy wilderness, Johann could feel the weight of his confinement lifting.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When morning broke, the air carried a freshness that greeted Johann like an old friend, welcoming him back to freedom. He had never been in this part of the countryside before, and yet he was immediately captivated by its beauty. The Austrian rural landscape stretched out before him—a tableau of rolling green hills, golden sunlight spilling across dewy meadows, a soft mist weaving between the trees, and a gentle river winding through the valley, its surface shimmering like liquid silver under the morning light.

As he walked, he noticed the faint strains of violin music floating on the breeze, adding an almost surreal touch to the scene. It was as if the world itself was celebrating his freedom.

His heart was filled with gratitude.....

 

[Federicco]

His heart was filled with gratitude.....

Just when Johann started to feel hungry and tired, he found a small restaurant with a sign swaying gently in the morning breeze: "Das Heimelige Kaffeehaus" .

Stepping inside was like entering a haven. Sunlight streamed through lace-curtained windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. The gentle murmur of contented chatter filled the cozy space, punctuated by bursts of warm laughter. The air hummed with a feeling of easy camaraderie, like a gathering of old friends.

Customers, their faces relaxed and happy, sat at Formica-topped tables—some leaning in to share stories over steaming mugs, others savoring plates of food, their satisfaction unmistakable, as if they were dining in a three-star restaurant. . A rosy-cheeked woman with flour dusting her apron moved between the tables, her smile as bright as the morning sun, offering a kind word here and a refill there. The clatter of cutlery against plates was a comforting rhythm, a soundtrack to simple pleasures.

The menu, handwritten on a chalkboard with colorful chalk, listed dishes like golden-crusted chicken stew, hearty lentil soup with crusty bread, and fragrant vegetable pie.

Johann, clutching his coins, approached the counter where the rosy-cheeked woman beamed at him. "Guten Morgen, oh dear. You look a little weary. Is everything alright? What can I get you? Perhaps a nice hot drink and something to eat?" , she asked, her voice as warm as the morning sun. He ordered the stew, cheese and bread. When Johann asked how much would the bill be, the rosy-cheeked lady said smilingly: "$19.99"

 

[Federicco]

What should have been his worst nightmare soon became his gold mine...
Did that happen magically? Or something else?

He ordered the stew, cheese and bread....

As he sat at a small, unoccupied table, the simplicity of the scene enveloped him. The stew, thick with tender vegetables and savory broth, arrived in a steaming bowl, accompanied by cheese and warm, crusty bread. The first bite was like being in Heaven to him, he couldn't believe he could enjoy anything below $20. He ate slowly, appreciating and savoring each mouthful, the tension that had gripped him for days beginning to ease. He finished every last drop and wished to order another bowl. But he ran out of money.

Finally, Johann left the cafe immensely satisfied.

Back in Vienna, Johann returned to his normal life. Johann found himself having more time for work than before, and his efficiency improved a lot. Johann was wondering why, but too busy to think over it.

Yet, despite his newfound productivity, something lingered from his experience —— a persistent cough.

 

[Federicco]

What should have been his worst nightmare soon became his gold mine...
Did that happen magically? Or something else?

It started subtly at first, just an occasional scratch in his throat. But as days passed, the cough worsened, a stark reminder of the thick smoke he had inhaled during his captivity. The realization struck him—this wasn’t just a passing irritation; his lungs had suffered.

Determined to find a solution, Johann immersed himself in research, studying the effects of smoke exposure and air pollution on respiratory health. After months of experimentation, he perfected a formula: a cough medicine not just for relief, but for restoration. Unlike conventional remedies, his breakthrough treatment helped heal the lungs, reversing some of the damage caused by inhaling harmful air.

What had started as a personal struggle became a new medical discovery—one that would make him richer than ever, though in a way he had never imagined.

His wealth began to grow, to a level higher than before. Invitations flooded in for him to speak at conferences and seminars, and journalists clamored to interview him.

As he grew richer, his lifestyle became increasingly extravagant. He bought a private jet and a fleet of luxury cars. His dining habits returned to lavish spending at exclusive restaurants. Yet, despite the opulence, he didn’t feel satisfied.

One day, his mind wandered back to that humble cafe in the beautiful town of Bad Goisern — where he had experienced what he described as a "taste of Heaven".

 

[Federicco]

One day, his mind wandered back to that humble cafe in the beautiful town of Bad Goisern — where he had experienced what he described as a "taste of Heaven". Wishing to relive that moment, he decided to return. His pilot flew him along with his bodyguard and secretary there in his private jet. Johann arrived full of high expectations.

Johann stepped inside with his bodyguard, secretary and pilot.

Just as he reached the counter, a snippet of conversation from a nearby table caught his attention.
"Did you hear? Those two east German thieves were found by police in a hut nearby, unconscious."
"What happened afterwards?"
"Arrested, and put into jail."

Johann’s lips curled into a faint smile as he turned back to the counter.

The rosy-cheeked woman who had once welcomed him so warmly turned from the counter, her expression polite but tense. She studied him briefly, her gaze flicking to his designer sunglasses, his tailored clothes, and the quiet authority in his posture. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her apron.

Then, before he could even speak, she straightened, lifting her chin with quiet resolve.

"No," she said firmly. "We won’t sell our cafe."

Johan blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"We’ve heard the rumors," she continued, her voice steady but guarded. "Big developers coming in, trying to buy up the land. But this place isn’t for sale."

To her, he wasn’t the weary traveller who had once stumbled in, desperate for warmth. He was just another rich outsider, looking to turn their sanctuary into something commercial and impersonal.

"I’m not here to buy your cafe," Johann said calmly. "I just wanted to buy a bowl of chicken stew."

She eyed him for a moment before nodding, then calmness began to re-appeared on her face.
Johann ordered the same food as before, eagerly anticipating the wonderful experience he had once enjoyed. But after just a few bites, disappointment set in. The food was plain and ordinary—nothing like what he had tasted during his first visit. He kept looking at his bowl, feeling puzzled.

Johann wondered why. After all, it's the same restaurant, the same staff, the same food. Then on the way out, he noticed a mirror hung on the wall, as he looked into it, he found the answer.