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Published at 9th of June 2020 10:36:53 AM


Chapter 17

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Editor: Stomatopoda, Nets,

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My hometown.

 

My hometown was a verdant country.

 

The fragrant scent of lush grass and sweet smelling flowers filled the air.

 

He could still vividly remember how the warm sunlight pooled under the acacia trees.

 

Every spring, flowers bloomed on the mountains. He used to relax at the foot of the mountains, and when the sun began to set he would wander home. There he would take sticks of dry firewood from his carefully stacked pile, and place them in the furnace to watch the white smoke rise through the chimney.

 

It smelt like cooked rice.

 

It was such a leisurely rural neighborhood.

 

He would lay in the yard watching the smoke disappear into the sky. As the sun set, the smoke would fade into the dusky horizon…

 

* * *

 

Click~
The lighter snapped on, igniting the cigarette.

 

A middle-aged man with long, ungroomed white hair blew out a long puff of the cigarette. He looked up at the sky at night, following the trail of the smoke.

 

The stars are beautiful, tonight.

 

He was greeted by a sky that was not much different from what he had seen in his old hometown. However, the landscape had changed. A building would take the place of a tree, and asphalt roads the place of the grass.

 

His body, which used to emanate the leisurely flower scents, was now coated with the harsh stenches of monster blood and violence.

 

The man sheathed his sword at his waist, calling out to the subordinates behind him.

 

“Get the survivors!”

 

The man plodded off along the city streets. On his back, the logo embossed into his gore-stained leather armor glistened. The sun struck the rivulets of still-drying blood, painting out one word:

‘T E M P L E’.

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

It was early in the morning.

 

The sun shone gently through the restaurant’s window, and the city lay quiet.

 

Only the faint rustling of the turning  of pages of a newspaper could be heard.

 

Cheol-ho had often thought when looking at his old father, ‘What’s the fun of reading newspapers?’.

 

Cheol-ho had only discovered the answer once he was his father’s age.

 

He was just looking at it.

 

Even if you didn’t care about anything specific, just reading the story of the world was fun.

 

Let’s see.

 

So, the topic of the day was about… the big job the Temple Mercenary Corps carried out a while ago.

 

It seemed that last month the Temple Mercenary Corps prevented the invasion of a monster in the southern region. On the front there was a large image of a man.

 

“That’s great.”

 

Cheol-ho whistled slightly as he read the newspaper, and carefully followed through the article.

 

Rustle~

 

Tangerine poked his head out from under the newspaper.

 

“Papa!”

 

Tangerine looked up at Cheol-ho with sparkling eyes.

 

“Did you just wake up?”

 

“Daddy!”

 

Tangerine nodded energetically, squeezing his body between Cheol-ho’s legs.  In that state he crawled up, whimpering, onto Cheol-ho’s knee.

 

Tangerine perched on Cheol-ho’s thigh and laughed, looking down at the newspaper. Cheol-ho stroked his head, and tilted the page so he could see.

 

“Oh.”

 

Tangerine slowly read the large letters of the headline.

 

“Today’s fashion.”

 

Cheol-ho laughed at his words.

 

“You’re good.”

 

When Cheol-ho complimented him, Tangerine smiled again.

 

“Ahem.”

 

Tangerine cleared his voice and read another set of letters.

 

“I am warm.”

 

“The weather is warm.”

 

Nowadays, he was starting to be able to read quite a few words . He could read roughly, although he couldn’t pronounce the words very well.

 

Tangerine looked up at Cheol-ho to check if he had lost interest after being read the words for a long time.

“Papa.”

 

“Huh?”


Tangerine leapt down from Cheol-ho’s lap, and trotted to the refrigerator in the kitchen. He raised one of his front legs and knocked on the refrigerator door.

 

Bam!~

 

“Come on! ”

 

“Okay, okay.”


Cheol-ho rose to his feet, stretching slightly. Come to think of it, it was almost time for breakfast.

 

Let’s see.

 

What should they have for breakfast?

 

What to have for breakfast was always a concern, because it was important to eat three meals a day.

 

You had to eat something delicious. Life was short, and they had only three chances each day to enjoy delicious things.

 

Ah.

Cheol-ho looked at Tangerine, and an idea sprung to his mind.

 

‘However, I can’t say it’ll be a short life for you.’

 

Cheol-ho, who had been thinking for a while with his arms crossed, suddenly recalled the issue of the food.

 

First, he opened a square container to pour a handful of grain into a bowl.

 

It was white rice.

 

The rice had to be washed well.

 

Mixed grains were said to be good for bodily health, but Cheol-ho preferred white rice.

 

He wanted to make white rice.

 

No matter how bad it was for your health, it wouldn’t be able to affect Cheol-ho’s body.

 

He would put the rice in a rice cooker, and add a moderate amount of water.

 

If you can rest your palm on top of the rice and the water didn’t spill over the back of your hand, it was a good amount.

 

Next, he would cook the rice. The water began to boil once Cheol-ho placed the lid on the rice cooker.

 

“Wake up your brother, please,” Cheol-ho said to Tangerine.

 

“Okay!”

 

Tangerine nodded brightly and ran upstairs.

 

Arriving in the bedroom, Tangerine looked at his sleeping brother with a goofy grin. He turned his eyes to the big wardrobe next to him. Tangerine whined and dragged over a chair, allowing him to stand up and climb atop the wardrobe. From there he jumped, plummeting downwards as he wrapped himself into a tight ball.

 

“Argh!”

 

Cheol-ho laughed when he heard Khan’s scream.

 

* * *


White steam gushed out of the rice cooker, the water boiling furiously. The smell of rice had permeated the whole restaurant. It was a savory and appetizing smell.

 

Cheol-ho began to prepare the side dishes one by one. First of all, the Belto egg.

 

Break open an egg and empty it in an oiled frying pan. The dish was fried belto eggs, which is practically the same as normal fried eggs.

 

Take the diced vegetables out of the refrigerator. The diced radish kimchi and mandragora were now very ripe, and very delicious. Lastly, he needed the vegetables he had bought recently.

 

After the vegetables have been trimmed and lightly boiled in the water, the menu for the morning would be complete.

 

“Hey! What if you crushed your brother, you goof!?”

 

Khan clutched Tangerine in his arms and kissed him on both cheeks. Tangerine chuckled as if he was being tickled.

 

Cheol-ho smiled at the sight.

 

Once the rice was done, open the lid of the rice cooker and peer inside.

 

“Great.”

 

It had been quite a while since he cooked rice. Cheol-ho hadn’t had a chance to cook rice in a long time.

 

Stir the well-boiled white rice with a spatula and scrape it into a large pot. It should be topped with a fried Belto egg, the slightly boiled greens, and the diced radish kimchi.

 

Measure out and add three spoons of red pepper paste– this is the highlight of this dish.

 

Sesame oil.

 

Sesame oil doesn’t taste good, but it had an amazing smell. Pour in a generous splash.

Sesame oil ran from the bottle, and the succulent savory scent rose again.

 

Khan came running in a hurry.

 

“What’s this, what’s this? What is that smell?”

 

“Hmm.”

 

Cheol-ho shrugged his shoulders, sticking out his spoon imperiously.

 

“Mix it.”

 

Today’s breakfast was bibimbap.

 

“Believe in me! I’ll mix it so well!”

 

Khan took the spoon with a grim face.

 

* * *

 

When eating bibimbap, with each bite, it was best to fill your mouth with a large spoonful.

 

You would be able to feel the warmth of the freshly-made rice, sesame oil, and the harmony created by the resonance of the red pepper paste with the ingredients.

 

Cheol-ho gulped it down, breathing through his nose. The savory aroma of sesame oil remained , making him lift the spoon again.

 

It was rice.

 

Whenever he said rice, he developed a strange appetite.

 

First of all, rice was generally a dish that went well with anything. It was good to mix with condiments, and it was good to eat with side dishes.

 

It was delicious even when it was put in soups.

 

Cheol-ho’s personal preference was the cold rice rolled up in ramen soup. When grains of cold rice– not hot rice– entered the broth, the greasy rice grains came alive and were very enjoyable.

 

Scorched rice, that is ,  what was left after scooping the rice out of the rice cooker, was also good.

 

Scorched rice could be eaten boiled, or fried with sugar.

 

“Hmm.”

 

Just thinking about it, Cheol-ho nodded. He was going to make some food for the next few days.

 

Then Cheol-ho would have to think. 

 

What kind of side dishes should they make?

 

Tangerine had begun to doze off after eating the bibimbap.

 

“Khan, lately Tangerine’s been odd,” Cheol-ho asked with a tilt of his head.

 

“Hmm?”

 

Khan tilted his head in response.

 

“Yes. As soon as he eats, he sleeps. Is he alright?”

 

“Ah,” Khan replied, prodding Tangerine’s cheek.

 

“It’s already been three months since he was born. At this time, we should be able to slowly figure out what his class is.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“This is the usual process. When I was his age I also ate a lot and slept a lot.”

 

“Really?”

 

That was unexpected. He couldn’t believe he would soon be able to tell which class Tangerine was born with. Cheol-ho felt a strange excitement.

 

“I’ll put him to sleep.”

 

By the time Khan had carried Tangerine to the bedroom in his arms, a guest was entering the restaurant.

 

Ding ding~

 

The guest was Kim Man-ho. He looked a lot better than the last time he had visited, when he was still very hungry.

 

“Good morning, sir.”

 

“Oh, yes. Welcome.”

 

Kim Man-ho seated himself at a table with a cheerful smile. Suddenly he inhaled deeply, breathing in the aroma circling the kitchen.

 

“Oh, the rice smells good.”

 

“I just cooked it. Would you like some?”

 

Kim Man-ho nodded.

 

“Yes, but I’d like a bowl ramen first. And then the rice.”

 

“Cold rice would be good,” Cheol-ho suggested.

 

Kim Man-ho laughed.

 

“Of course. Cold rice is the best for ramen.”

 

Cheol-ho smiled, glad they shared the same sensibility. As Cheol-ho entered the kitchen he turned around, and saw Kim Man-ho with a much less happy expression.

 

Kim Man-ho’s eyes were focused on the newspaper that Cheol-ho was reading a while ago, stuck on a big picture of a big man.





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