Surviving on the Northern Front with Gukbap

Chapter 1 - Knife Work

The Fairy's Leg.

The name of a shabby tavern-slash-inn on the northern front.

And the place where I work while freeloading.

I swept the floor, rubbing the spot where I was hit this morning.

Of course, it was more for show.

Because if I just stood still, I would at least get cursed at, and at most, get beaten.

Creeak.

"Welcome."

A familiar customer appeared through the crack of the shop door.

It was Jeros, a regular customer and a member of the guard.

Jeros saw my "splendid" face, smirked, and said.

"Ian, did you get your ass kicked again?”

My name is Lee Han-cheol.

The people here call me Ian.

“……Can't you tell by looking?”

At that, Jeros sat down and shouted towards the kitchen.

“Hey, Bert! Stop beating the kid! What if he croaks from this?”

I could hear the pig in the kitchen grumbling, 'Who cares if he croaks or not!'

“The usual?” I asked.

Jeros nodded, took something out of his pocket, and tossed it to me.

I caught it just before I dropped it and saw that it was a bundle of healing herbs.

Without a word, I tucked it away and entered the kitchen.

Bert nagged me to only serve a moderate amount, but I had already been bribed.

I secretly filled a wooden bowl to the brim with pumpkin soup and came out.

As soon as I placed it in front of Jeros with a thud, he started eating ravenously.

To think he eats something that's on the borderline between trash and food like that,

I could only find it amazing.

Most of the customers who come here are guards or the lowest-ranking soldiers.

Very occasionally, there are poor adventurers too.

People who are short on money and have come looking for a restaurant where they can fill their stomachs cheaply.

“So why'd you get your ass kicked this time?”

Jeros asked after having wolfed down about half the soup.

When I wiped the next table without answering, Jeros snickered and said.

“Heh heh. It was the garlic again. The garlic.”

Jeros drank up the rest of the soup in one go, left a single copper coin on the table, and stood up.

“Hey, Ian. No matter how shitty Bert's personality is, he's still your boss, isn't he? Just listen to him. Don't do what he tells you not to do, and don't eat what he tells you not to eat! It's your loss if you get hurt and injured, isn't it? That's how you'll live long.”

“Goodbye.”

“Heh heh. Such a disrespectful brat.”

Jeros said coolly as he left the shop.

“If you croak, I'll make sure to throw Bert in jail. Don't you worry!”

For some reason, his grinning face looked sincere.

Just then,

an unfamiliar system voice rang in my ears.

Tring.

< The customer is satisfied with the service >

< You have obtained 1 ‘Satisfaction.’ >

It was a sound I'd been hearing for the past three days, but only whenever Jeros came and went.

……

Before I knew it, six months had passed since I came to this world.

In that time, I learned two things.

One is that the northern lands are filthy cold, and the other is that medieval architecture is shoddier than I could have ever imagined.

I don't know where the wind is leaking from, but a biting wind was flowing in.

“Hah. It's fucking cold.”

The floor of the empty kitchen at dawn.

I had spread a blanket, frayed and riddled with holes, on the floor, but it was of no help.

'It's colder than yesterday, damn it.'

Actually, there was a way to solve this cold.

But if I used that method again, I really might be killed by Bert.

The murderous glint in the eyes of Bert, who had beaten me to a pulp, still lingered in my mind.

— I'm not kidding. If you stink up the kitchen with garlic one more time, I'll put a hole in your gut with this kitchen knife. You'll die.

That crazed, wide-eyed glare,

was not a joke.

It was 120% sincere.

But right now, my body was trembling like an aspen tree, and the feeling in my fingertips and toes was going numb from frostbite.

Freeze to death, or get stabbed to death.

Either way, I die all the same.

Damn it all.

'How did I end up getting dragged into this shitty world.'

Let's go back six months ago.

I was just playing a game at home.

Just like any other day, I had worked at my parents' gukbap restaurant, and came home to play the game I always played.

The 2D dot RPG, 'Belkazium'.

But then—

[You have cleared all 10 endings.]

[A new play mode will be unlocked.]

[A new character will be created.]

[Achievement Rate 100.00%]

[Special privileges will be granted based on your gameplay thus far.]

And just like that, I lost consciousness.

When I opened my eyes, I was here, on the streets of a filthy cold medieval town.

Just as I was about to collapse after wandering around aimlessly,

If Bert hadn't found me, I would have died right then and there.

At first, I thought he was a good guy.

Even though it tasted like shit, he had filled my starving stomach with pumpkin soup.

'I should've bolted right after eating.'

I found out that night that it was the cost of a slave contract.

It was too late for regrets.

Of course, I've considered running away from here thousands of times.

But I couldn't do that either.

Having no money on me is a problem,

But the real problem was that there was nothing for me even if I did succeed in escaping.

Because these medieval people didn't bat an eye even if a fight broke out and someone died in this tavern.

I had seen such sights from time to time.

Beings for whom human life is cheap.

'Though it's probably worse because we're near the front lines.'

Anyway, it was uncertain whether I could survive even if I ran away from here, and I was also afraid.

It was a situation of total crisis, and the most urgent problem among them was—

'That I'm on the verge of freezing to death.'

It's cold.

So!

So, so cold.

Six months ago, it was at least cool, but now it's the 13th month.

It's the coldest month, known as the 'Dark Period'.

Experiencing in reality what I had only gone through in a dot-matrix game was no small matter.

That's why this thought occurs to me.

'If I fall asleep like this, won't I really die?'

The strongest instinct of a living creature began to activate.

The instinct that I cannot die like this,

The instinct for survival.

I try to move my toes.

They're stiffly frozen.

The sense of touch is gone too.

Just a moment ago, they were tingling, but even that has disappeared.

'If I endure this any longer, I'll freeze to death!'

Screw Bert's threat, screw his murder warning, screw all of it,

The fear of freezing to death right now washed over me.

Is there anyone who can meekly accept death?

I don't know about later, but if there was a solution for right now, I had to use it.

In the end, I focused my mind on the 'Shop Window'.

Tring.

A translucent system window immediately appeared before my eyes.

[Satisfaction : 1] x 1pt

[Recognition : 0] x 10pt

-----

[Rice (150g) : 5pt]

[Napa Cabbage (1 head) : 3pt]

[Radish (1) : 3pt]

..

.

[Garlic (5 cloves) : 1pt]

In this moment, it was an image more welcome than my own mother's face.

With a trembling hand, I touched 'Garlic'.

And then, garlic cloves materialized in mid-air and fell to the floor.

Roll, roll.

There was no time to hesitate.

In order to live, I grabbed a handful of the garlic that had fallen to the floor and shoved it into my mouth.

Crunch.

The sharp scent of garlic fills my mouth.

It feels like my already stinging nose is being cleared wide open.

But I'm delighted.

Because of the system sounds I'm hearing in my ears right now.

CRUNCH!

Now that the thought 'I can live' crossed my mind, what I was eating felt not like garlic, but like chocolate.

A warm energy spread from my stomach throughout my whole body.

My freezing blood vessels began to thaw, and my skin tingled as if the frostbite was receding.

My welcome sense of touch, which I had almost lost.

'I seriously came back from the dead.'

As the cold slowly subsided and I escaped the danger of death, another worry began to surface.

'They say life is a series of hardships. Haa.'

The scent of garlic that had filled my mouth.

This scent, so familiar and even nostalgic to a Korean, had probably spread throughout the entire kitchen.

'Last night, even ventilating the room was useless.'

Just as Koreans have a ghost-like ability to smell the rank odor of cheese on Westerners, Bert had a ghost-like ability to catch the scent of garlic.

And he hated it to death.

Which means—

'He hates it enough that he could kill me.'

Bert probably really could kill me.

I could guess as much because of something I heard from Jeros a few weeks ago.

— That bastard Bert. He used to pick up outsiders who occasionally show up, like you, and work them as slaves. But you know. Where did they all go, leaving only you? Heh heh.

Jeros said I was the first outsider to have worked at 'The Fairy's Leg' for over six months, and told this story as if it were amusing.

But back then, chills ran down my spine.

It's a relief that I'm the son of a gukbap restaurant owner; what if I had been clumsy with kitchen work?

Wouldn't I have been either abandoned or killed?

If the whereabouts of the outsiders who worked here are unknown, then my guess is probably correct.

"Bert, you son of a bitch."

In the end, I decided not to do a clumsy job of ventilating like yesterday.

Instead, I wrapped the only knife in the kitchen with a dishcloth and tucked it into the back of my waistband.

'It's a good thing iron is precious since this is the Middle Ages.'

He's going to stab me with a kitchen knife?

What's he going to do if there's no knife?

“……”

I looked around to see if there was anything else that could be used as a weapon besides the kitchen knife.

Mostly wooden.

Fortunately, there was nothing of note.

A situation where it's a real relief there's only one knife.

Hm. Is this really a relief?

“Hah. This is fucking shitty.”

“What's fucking shitty?”

“?!?!”

Startled, I immediately turned around.

It was Bert.

Did that bastard hear me curse him?

Judging by his expression, it seems that's not the case.

I laughed awkwardly and said.

“Master? What brings you to the kitchen so late at night?”

“Night? What kind of idiotic nonsense is that? Have you gone blind too?”

Looking now, I could see that dawn was just breaking.

That was also why I could faintly see Bert's figure.

'When did it get so late?'

“Sniff. Sniff sniff.”

Damn it.

Bert suddenly started sniffing the air.

I instantly realized I was screwed.

“This bastard.”

Is this what it means to feel killing intent in someone's voice?

“Where the hell do you get garlic to shove in your face? Huh?”

Soon after, Bert walked towards the sink where the kitchen knife was supposed to be, then stopped abruptly.

He seemed flustered that the knife wasn't in the knife block.

He turned his gaze back to me and asked.

“Where did you hide it? You sure know when it's your time to die. You quick-witted bastard.”

But Bert paid it no mind and walked towards another cupboard.

As he reached his hand into that cupboard…

Shing.

Another kitchen knife emerged.

I thought it was strange for a kitchen to only have one knife,

To think there was another one hidden in a place like that.

And an old one, at that, so rusty you could see it clearly.

'A mere scratch from that and I'll die of tetanus.'

When was the last time I had a tetanus shot?

As I was briefly lost in that thought, Bert strode towards me.

“Still, you were the first outsider to last this long. It was fun, now die.”

Will he really kill me? Or is it a threat?

This thought crossed my mind for a fleeting moment, but there was no room for doubt.

Seeing that momentum and those eyes, he really intended to kill me.

At that, I took my kitchen knife from my back and quickly unwrapped the dishcloth.

A thought occurs to me as I unwrap it.

'What am I doing right now?'

Is he coming at me with a knife, saying he'll kill me, so I'm trying to fight back?

But even so, can I stab that bastard with a knife?

'I'm a modern person. That bastard is a medieval man who sees human life as trivial.'

My mind was getting complicated, but I soon gave up on thinking.

Because Bert's approaching steps were getting faster.

Stride, stride.

I subconsciously backpedaled, throwing kitchen utensils at him.

With my left hand, the one not holding the kitchen knife.

CRASH!

“G-Get away! Are you really trying to kill me?”

“Crazy bastard. Are you so moved that your day to die has come? It was the same with all the other outsiders, not just you.”

At those words, chills spread all over my body.

“What did you say?”

“You idiot, you still don't get it? You were just a little useful, so I played with you for a long time. The feel of beating you, and beating you again, was pretty good. You didn't die right away. Heh heh.”

In Bert's eyes as he spoke, there was something akin to ecstasy.

The look in the eyes of a psychopathic murderer, the kind you only see in dramas.

It was something I had caught glimpses of when he beat me, but now it was in full bloom.

“Die, now.”

With those words, Bert lunged at me, and with the sound of a knife tearing through flesh,

SHLICK!

a pool of blood spilled onto the kitchen floor.

“Fu……ck.”

All too ridiculously, it felt as if my mother's voice was ringing in my ears.

— Our son is good with a knife.