Surviving on the Northern Front with Gukbap

Chapter 72 : Granfen (5)

Granfen (5)

As the sky turned from red to black,

the plaza filled up and swelled with people from who knows where.

I felt this during the last sparring tournament too, but for a frontline village, this place is pretty big.

"Alright! Thank you for waiting, everyone!"

The same MC who hosted during the sparring tournament shouted out.

The crowd responded by surging toward the stage.

'It's starting.'

Gulp. I swallowed without realizing it.

I don't have much stage experience,

and since this is my first cooking contest, I can't help being nervous.

"Boss."

The kid clung tightly to the side of my pants.

"D-don't be nervous, okay? Go knock 'em dead!"

Employee no. 1's eyes were bloodshot.

As I started to feel even more nervous because of her—

"I think Naba is more nervous, don't you?"

Plerine teased,

to which Naba replied, "No way! Why would I be nervous? Aren't you the one who's always so cold?" and the two of them started bickering.

"Hey now, both of you calm down."

Harper stepped in to stop the seniors.

I saw the same scene every day while making makgeolli.

Not a single day missed, every single day.

What a bunch of clowns.

"Enough! Are you going to act like this all the way here? You're embarrassing me."

At my scolding, all three employees turned their gaze to me.

Naba and Harper looked at me wide-eyed,

while Plerine gave me a faint smile.

"You look better now."

"...?"

Just as Plerine said, I suddenly felt like I was back to my usual self.

Maybe it's because I've seen this scene so often,

or maybe, I just find them genuinely funny.

'Whatever it is, what matters is that I'm back to normal.'

I smirked and replied,

"Was there ever a time I wasn't alright?"

When Plerine started to open her mouth, I immediately cut her off.

"I'll win and come back."

I stepped onto the stairs leading to the stage.

No heavier step in the world.

'Right. Compared to my duel with Pab—'

There's not even my life on the line in this cooking contest.

I'm not fighting some brute like Gardoc, either.

'If I lose here, all I stand to lose is my shop and my employees. I won't die.'

Of course, that possibility is scary enough to make me a little nervous,

but seeing the kids bicker like yesterday—

'I have this feeling I'll see them again tomorrow.'

Thinking these thoughts, I found I was already standing on stage.

"Let me introduce now! The challenger for tonight's cooking contest~!"

... Excuse me. They were the ones who challenged us, you know?

"The rising star of Granfen's culinary world! Outsider~ Ian~!!"

As soon as the MC's introduction ended, the plaza's volume shot up.

"Beat the cook!"

"If you lose, you're dead!"

Came the rough cheers from the soldiers,

"Boo~"

"That arrogant outsider doesn't know his place!"

and the civilian jeers mixed in with them, a cacophony.

With these complex feelings all aimed at me, I started to feel stubborn.

'Back in the day, everyone in the village would've ignored me, but now at least half are cheering for me.'

Now, all that's left is to win over those civilians, too.

And the first step is winning this cooking contest!

"And up against him~! Granfen's pride! The legendary chef from Hulanchel in central continent! Wyvern Tail's Dunbell~~~~~~!!"

With that long, drawn-out name call, the cheers for my opponent grew much louder.

MC, if you keep going like this, you're going to faint. Please, enough.

"Beeeeeeeelllllll!!"

"Wooooaaaah!!"

A storm of cheers, leagues above what I got, erupted.

Now I understood just how popular Wyvern Tail was as the best local food in Granfen.

'Man, I'm really starting to burn up inside.'

I ended up as the underdog, but isn't it even more thrilling to win in these situations?

"Now, the two of you—shake hands!"

On the MC's cue, Dunbell and I met at the center of the stage and shook hands.

But Dunbell was expressionless as ever,

and he didn't say a word.

'Why? Maybe he's being quiet because there're people watching? Doesn't seem like his kind of thing, though.'

Well, I matched his attitude,

but... it just left me with a weird feeling.

'What is he up to?'

While I was wondering, the MC began explaining the rules.

"As everyone knows, today's cooking contest will be judged by alcohol! The drinks made by our two chefs will~!"

As he shouted, he swung his arm.

Shaaak—the curtain covering the stage was whipped away.

"Our nine judges will taste and evaluate them!"

All nine judges appeared wearing black eye masks—

"Swear upon your steel!"

Boomed the soldiers' salute.

"...... Loyalty will light your way. Hm. So you can tell who I am, eye mask or not. Hahaha."

Of course, old man.

Your bald, shiny head and mustache aren't going to be covered by any eye mask.

"Now! In front of each of our judges are two glasses. One is black, one is white. Naturally, which drink belongs to whom is a secret!"

Only the MC and the judge—Sergeant Fav—knew which was which. Even I didn't know which color was mine.

"Judges, please place your hands on the table and check the glasses placed in each hand. One in your left, one in your right."

The battalion commander chuckled cheerfully, enjoying the new experience, toying with the glasses in his hands.

The white glass in his left hand, the black glass in his right.

Meanwhile, one of the other judges I selected had the black glass on the right and white on the left.

And who was this?

A bit sneaky, but with his eyes squinted under the mask, he looked almost handsome—

'That would be Jeros!'

Our judges were Ralph and Jeros.

With the strength buff in the rice from my makgeolli, they'd be able to tell which was mine.

...... I said I'd keep it to cooking, but if the rules have loopholes, you've gotta use them, right?

'If you don't, you're stupid. Hmph.'

And the last one?

"How much longer do I have to wait?! I just want to drink already."

Naturally, the cranky hunter Flaco.

He badgered us endlessly to participate when he heard about the contest.

All three judges chosen by the other side seemed to be civilians.

A prostitute and two minors who looked like muscly miners.

Now, who would they choose?

"Alright, then! Judges, please start the tasting nowwwww!"

With the MC's signal, the judges brought the glasses to their lips.

If I could tell which one was mine, I might guess from their reactions, but—

"Whoa?!"

As expected, the most medieval-looking judge, Flaco, shouted.

"This drink is amazing! Best stuff I've ever tasted! Hahaha!"

He kept gulping down the black glass in his right hand. Gulp, gulp!

Then he slammed the glass on the table.

"MC! Give me more of this one I just finished!"

Hey, Flaco.

If the drink in the black glass is my makgeolli, fine,

but if not, this is bad!

"I'm sorry, judge, but you'll need to finish the other drink in your other hand before you get any refills for judging."

When did they set such sensible, detailed rules?

Sergeant Pab, you're more competent than you look.

"Ch! Looks like it's already over."

Flaco's dramatic reaction started a murmur among the audience.

They guessed that the black must be Wyvern Tail's drink.

'Damn. I'm worried they're right.'

At that moment,

the only female judge on the side opposite Flaco raised the glass in her left hand and said,

"I can say for certain, this is Wyvern Tail's drink. Only Dunbell could make something this deep and flavorful."

And the color of her glass was, astonishingly—

'White?!'

Not the black glass Flaco raved about, but white.

The buzz in the crowd grew louder.

"What? Wasn't the black one Dunbell's?"

"Jella would never get Wyvern Tail's drink wrong. Guess it's the white, then."

"Then why did Flaco say the black was better? The outsider's drink should taste like trash."

"Stupid, obviously the outsider bribed Flaco to pretend the bad drink was good."

Now that I'm a 3rd-rank, my hearing's gotten really sharp.

I hear all sorts of things I wish I didn't.

"Whoa?!"

Flaco reacted dramatically again.

He stared blankly, then chugged the white glass in his left hand.

"No way..."

But it wasn't Flaco who said this.

It was the prostitute, jella, on the other side.

"How is... this one good too?"

Jella's lips trembled and, as if she couldn't hold back, she gulped down the black glass too.

Flaco and Jella both finished all their drinks almost simultaneously.

Chak! Chak!

"Urp. More booze! Now!"

"Me too! This is crazy! I can't tell which is Wyvern Tail's!"

At their shouts, sergeant Pab hurried over to refill their glasses.

His face still clearly said, 'Why am I the one who has to do this?'

'Not just competent, but he likes to handle things personally, huh.'

He could easily have let a subordinate do this.

Maybe that's why he came out himself for the duel, too.

Anyway, after Pab refilled the glasses and left,

"Haha! Hahahaha!"

The battalion commander's hearty laugh stilled the crowd.

"In a frontline garrison, good food is hard to come by. We eat just to survive, after all."

His speech seemed out of place.

The MC and the crowd froze,

but when has the principal's address ever cared for timing?

Sometimes, it's best to just be quiet and listen.

"That's why I'm always grateful to hunter Flaco, and chef Dunbell too. During wartime, they've given us fresh meat and good food."

Flaco scratched his head awkwardly at the surprise praise,

and Dunbell gave a polite bow in response.

Of course, with the blindfold, the commander couldn't see him.

"But now, there's one more person to thank."

Does that mean...?

"Even for a gourmet like myself, it's hard to say which I prefer. Hahaha! Both drinks are delicious! Bring me more. I never expected Ian's cooking to rival Dunbell's."

Old baldy, that last bit is a little insulting, you know?

But looking at Dunbell, he seemed just as annoyed.

His usually blank face was twisted up.

'Heh. How do you like that? Bet you didn't see this coming.'

It wasn't over, but it felt like all my hard work wasn't for nothing.

One by one, the judges started requesting refills.

"Me too! I still can't decide which tastes better."

"Sergeant Pab, over here too!"

The judges were having a blast, and everyone else was dying of curiosity.

Only Pab moved briskly, his face rigid.

"Pour some here, too. Kukukuk."

Pab was especially rough when pouring for Jeros.

Thud!

With the judges now just drinking for fun and not actually judging,

the MC stepped in to mediate.

"Alright, judges! Unfortunately, we're all out of the drinks prepared specially for judging. The rest will be shared with the festival guests."

The MC's smooth announcement drew a sigh of relief from the audience.

Meanwhile, the judges started stroking their chins in deep, disappointed thought.

"Alright! Please raise the glass in either hand that you thought tasted better above your head!"

The MC looked rushed.

He must want to finish quickly and taste the drinks himself.

"I'll count to three! Let's all count together!"

That's a bit sudden, speeding it up like this!

"One! Two! Three!"

"Raise the glass of the drink you thought was the best—up high!!"

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

We all know Ian would win...

【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】