Surviving on the Northern Front with Gukbap

Chapter 104 : Let's rewind to two weeks ago.

Let's rewind to two weeks ago.

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"...■ ■■■!"

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Hm? What's that sound?

Did something just happen?

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Biiiiiiiiiiiiiip—

Someone was shaking my body.

That ringing in my ears was somehow even more annoying,

but first, I forced my closed eyes open.

The world was blurred and spinning.

"...... Platoon Leader!"

A sky tinged pink by the setting sun hung above.

Clouds, just thick enough.

And three large and small moons rising faintly in the sky.

Ah, that's right.

This was the battlefield—

"Platoon Leader Ian!!"

Smack!

Someone slapped my cheek, making my head turn.

Ridiculously, only then did the ringing abruptly stop and my mind clear,

and I managed to catch the hand flying in to wake me up again. Tak!

"A-are you all right?"

The one who tried to slap me was—ah... it was Ricky.

I almost cursed at Ricky's face on instinct,

but stopped myself when I saw deep relief on his expression.

"What on earth happened—?!!"

I hastily shut my mouth mid-question.

Fragmented memories rushed back all at once,

and I recalled exactly why I was in this state,

even how I ended up fainting.

"Shit."

Instead of cursing at Ricky, I spat my curse into the air and sat up.

With Ricky's support, I staggered to my feet.

I could see Zaiya's back as she was covering us.

"You're awake, Ricky?"

"Yeah! Let's go—quick!!"

What? Go where?

Even before I could ask, Ricky grabbed me and tried to pull me along.

Of course, I resisted with strength.

"Platoon Leader! There's no time for this right now!"

Ricky's voice trembled with panic,

but I wanted to turn my head and look at the center of the battlefield.

I wanted to take it all in with my eyes, even to the bitter end.

Blood dripping down,

Flesh scattering in the air.

And,

'Schutmann.'

The squire,

slaughtering my comrades.

Crack.

My grip tightened.

Though I had lost consciousness, my right hand was still clutching the Blood Iron kitchen knife.

I almost laughed in disbelief.

'I heard a true Swordsmanship practitioner shouldn't let go of their sword even after losing consciousness.'

I can't remember what comic I read that in,

but I pushed away those idle thoughts and shoved Ricky aside.

With all the strength I had left, I shouted.

"SCHUTMAAAAAAANN!!"

Towards the distant center of the battlefield.

"......."

The sound must have reached him.

At last, Schutmann's body and sword came to a stop.

Which meant,

at last, the blood of my comrades near Schutmann had stopped falling to the ground,

and their deaths had also stopped.

I felt relief as well as guilt.

Because I was the only one who could have stopped this situation.

Biiiiiiip—

The ringing in my ears started again.

Ricky seemed to be saying something beside me, but I couldn't hear.

Schutmann's gaze slowly turned and eventually landed on me.

'Damn it.'

Curses swirled inside my mouth.

Where did it all go wrong?

Just... where—

____

Two weeks ago,

on the morning we headed out to the frontline.

Plerine had given me the symbol of the White Fang, the shortsword Nash.

It looked the same as before.

Unlike in games, where you can hover your mouse to check for enchantments,

real-life enchantments don't show much difference on the surface.

Of course, that's just because I'm a 3rd-rank martial artist,

if it were Gerald or the mages, it might have looked clear as day.

'Tsk. What kind of magic did she put on it?'

I snuck Plerine a look, as if asking, "Are you really not going to tell me?"

but she just ignored me and walked to the supply cart.

Smiling faintly, I tucked the pure white shortsword into the inner breast pocket of my gambeson.

This was something I absolutely couldn't afford to lose, no matter what.

'It's basically my lifeline.'

Thinking this, I watched the employees loading up the cart.

Most of it was rice.

'That's a lot.'

I had dropped the rice to 1pt using [Upgrade] for makgeolli brewing,

and looking back, that was a genius move.

No matter how much I sold, my points never really ran out.

With points piling up, I could afford to stockpile this much rice before departure.

'I definitely can't let anyone know that I can get cooking ingredients through the [shop window].'

Other seasonings and cooking utensils didn't take up much space,

and I planned to get meat directly near the frontline.

Tableware would be handled by supply soldiers.

'Not taking stone bread was the result of my whining and asking for help.'

Feeling confidently secure looking at the stacked cart,

I heard Ruth grumbling nearby.

"Ha— I heard we eat supply bread on the front lines because it's a hassle, jeez. Ahem."

He had to cut his complaint short.

Because Zaiya and Ricky were glaring with fierce eyes.

"I wonder what would happen if I told the battalion commander exactly what you just said."

With Zaiya's words, Ruth's face went pale,

and Ricky came over and slung an arm around his shoulder with a cocky swagger.

Startled, Ruth was left to those two loyalists,

while I greeted Harper.

"You're acting boss while I'm gone, Harper."

Harper answered, tearing up.

"I never thought I'd fulfill my lifelong dream after coming to this world."

Hmm. So it wasn't just about being separated from me.

Well, even better.

Focusing on running the shop is better than stacking up melodramatic flags.

After exchanging silly banter with Dunbell, Clara, and the other employees,

"Naba's not here?"

Not seeing Naba, I asked Plerine.

She just shrugged.

'Guess he's feeling emotional.'

In the North, when sending soldiers to war, they joke around like this.

And above all, it's said you must never show tears.

Hmph. I wanted to comfort the little one probably holed up crying,

but,

'Can't be helped.'

My own future is more important than the state of Employee No.1's mind.

I can't risk raising any bad flags.

I said loudly, for all the employees to hear,

"Work hard, everyone! Anyone lazy'll be sacked the moment I get back!"

With that playful parting, I closed the shop door and set out on my way.

*

The road toward the frontline.

It was the same path I took to the spirit stone quarry after the departure ceremony attack.

Only now my companions had changed.

Instead of a bald man, there was a big-chinned guy beside me.

"Ralph. Why did our directly assigned cook platoon get put under the 3rd company?"

That damned bald guy! Rearranged the organization on his own and didn't even tell me.

"Isn't it obvious? Our company's in charge of supplies."

"Then, back when I was the only cook, I should've been in 3rd company from the start."

"Ian, why are you complaining when you know all this already?"

Ralph cut me off, as if he just didn't want to deal with me.

'Yeah, as company commander, he can't be seen always hanging out with me.'

Honestly, I'd already figured out why I'd been sent to 3rd company.

I have a unique presence in the Granfen battalion.

There was no longer a need to keep me protected under the battalion commander's direct supervision,

so for efficiency, I was sent to 3rd company where the supply soldiers are.

'But still, would it have killed him to let me know in advance?'

I turned my head to look at the end of the marching column.

The battalion commander was marching with the special operations troops.

His face as expressionless as always,

but he must be feeling just as stifled as I do inside.

'If I stay near the old man, there's more chance for exchanging opinions.'

I still had to tell him that I was the one who sent that secret pigeon.

The problem was when and how to find the right timing for that, hmm.

'Well, there's still plenty of time. I'll just wait for a good moment.'

It would take three days just to reach the frontline.

I wouldn't be too late finding my chance after arrival.

With these thoughts, I found myself at our first campsite at the spirit stone quarry on day one.

Everyone was preparing to camp.

It was time for our cook platoon to shine.

"Is it Zaiya or Ricky who knows how to hunt?"

Zaiya jabbed her elbow into Ruth's side, as if to say, "Why not ask me?"

The answer came from Ricky.

"I can do it."

Unexpected, but good news.

Jeros used to say that hunting and combat are two different things, after all.

Indeed, a special operations corporal—he's got a hidden talent.

"Get as much meat as you can handle solo. How long will it take?"

"About an hour, I think."

Look at that confidence. Even more reassuring.

"I trust you. Go on, then."

"Yes, sir!"

After sending Ricky off, the other two and I started setting up a makeshift kitchen.

Which really just meant piling rocks for a hearth, and setting up the cauldron and a campfire.

"All done, platoon Leader!"

Ruth said proudly, coming over.

Thanks to Zaiya's etiquette drills, they now treated me like a proper superior.

But that was as far as it went.

"You messing with me?"

When I questioned him, Ruth put on a pitiful face.

Even Zaiya, watching, flinched.

Neither seemed to know what the problem was.

'These guys are hopeless.'

Thanks to Schutmann's shaking, I hadn't gotten around to training the cooks yet.

Can't be helped.

Time to start, even if it's now.

"Watch closely."

I walked over to the cauldron.

They watched with nervous eyes as I reached inside and wiped the inside with my index finger.

'Ugh.'

I could already feel bits catching under my finger.

I showed the now-blackened fingertip to them.

"Can you look at this and still say you're done? And another thing."

I pointed at the slightly tilted cauldron and hearth.

"With it like that, how's the fire supposed to be controlled? The cauldron needs to be level, right! Heads on straight, everyone?!"

Ruth grumbled, "Isn't that good enough?"

And Zaiya elbowed him hard, saying,

"We'll fix it!"

Properly disciplined, that Zaiya.

Still, I wasn't satisfied with just this.

For clear hierarchy, sanitary habits, and service mindset, I took drastic measures.

"Attention all cooking platoon members! From now on, unless we're in combat, address your platoon leader as 'boss' instead of 'Platoon Leader.' Hahaha."

Without thinking, I slipped into a strange imitation of the battalion commander,

but the two just looked at me like, 'What's that about?' so I barked,

"Understood?!!"

"... Yes, boss!"

Definitely, hearing "Boss" is way more comfortable than "Platoon Leader,"

and I could give orders more naturally.

"Zaiya, fetch water. Ruth, wipe out the cauldron with a dry cloth until it shines. Move!"

"Y-yes, boss!"

Felt like raising my staff from the ground up again—kind of nice.

'Hope my kids are doing well back at the shop.'

I found myself missing the employees a bit,

but shook off that nostalgia right away.

No raising even the smallest flag.

'Keep your sentimental stat at the lowest, you idiot Ian.'

Muttering self-scolding, I set about my work and soon had the perfect kitchen setup.

Just then, Ricky appeared, hefting two giant wild boars on his shoulders.

"Excellent. You know how to drain the blood?"

Instantly, Ricky's smug look vanished.

Turns out he was a hobby-hunter, not a real one.

'Good thing I at least learned from Flaco.'

I signaled Ricky to put down the boars and come over.

"Now, you three chop these vegetables as fine as you can."

The veggies chopped by these three would go into the meat and vegetable rice porridge.

Since it wasn't feasible to feed everyone rice,

all soldiers below squad leader level who couldn't use mana would get porridge.

'Plus, it's good for recovery.'

With them handling that, I was about to start butchering the pig

when Zaiya's voice stopped me.

"Excuse me, platoo—cough, boss."

Ricky looked confused, but Zaiya would explain later.

"What?"

"I noticed there's no kitchen knife in the cart we brought."

Ah, I forgot.

'Right, they weren't cooks to begin with.'

My head nearly throbbed.

Would have to teach even basic knife grips and prep.

"Phew. I'll show you just this once, so watch and copy."

Guess I'd have it rough for a while yet.

*

I happened to have exactly three kitchen knives on me.

I lent my Blood Iron kitchen knife to Zaiya,

and gave Ruth and Ricky the ones we'd used before.

It wasn't about favoring her as a woman,

just that I trusted Zaiya more than Ruth or Ricky.

Anyway, though they were awkward at first, the three soon got used to chopping and prepping.

Then, what did I cook with?

'Hehehehe...'

Just thinking about it filled me with glee, and I barely managed to stifle a laugh.

It was the middle of the night in our four-person tent,

and with the others sleeping, I couldn't laugh out loud.

'But this is just too funny. My stomach hurts.'

Because,

the knife I used for today's cooking was—

'Schutmann's own shortsword Nash!'

Ack. Nearly burst out laughing again.

Huff, huff. Get it together.

'Just imagine how mad the White Fang guys would be if they knew. Kukuk.'

They'd probably all lose their heads and come after mine first.

Especially Schutmann, Nash's owner—he must be livid.

He must have seen me cooking with it.

Definitely saw.

"... Hehehe."

In the end, I couldn't hold it back, and the laughter leaked out—

"Platoon Leader? Why are you laughing all of a sudden?"

Ruth, just woken up, muttered sleepily.

Light sleeper, that guy.

"Platoon Leader? Am I the platoon leader, or the boss?"

"S-sorry, boss."

"... What? Boss?! I'm the boss?!"

At my answer, Ruth just gave a face like, 'What do you want from me?'

The fun evaporated.

"Never mind, go back to sleep."

"Yessir."

Ruth promptly pulled a blanket over his head.

Sheesh. Got so excited I ended up making a Korea joke for the first time in ages.

'Not like he'll understand anyway.'

My mood dropped just as quickly,

and with the excitement gone, drowsiness came fast.

I closed my eyes to sleep,

but then heard an annoying voice.

"Ian, in a moment I'll be coming in there, so act properly surprised, will you?"

Guess that saying about a superstar's day not being long enough was coined for me.

'But old man, I'm really too tired for this today.'

Doing my best, I started making convincing snoring sounds.

Rrrronk. Rrrnk, rrrronk!

Good. Perfect—

"Pretending to sleep won't do you any good. Hahaha."

... Damn it.