Sashimi and Suspicious Fishermen
Vrrrum!
"Oh, it's working."
"Yes, what a relief."
I fiddled with a few promising-looking buttons, and the magic engine hummed to life, propelling the boat forward.
"Pulling this lever increases the output. Steering's with the wheel."
"Seems that way."
"Not hard at all. Easier than driving a wagon."
His voice brimmed with confidence.
It did look pretty straightforward to me, too.
No obstacles helps. No drunk drivers, no Kim Yeo-sa, no jammin kids.
This is basically paradise.
"Not many fishing boats out here, though."
The dock we'd left from had plenty, but actual working vessels were few and far between.
"Heard most have headed south. Fishing around here must be too risky right now."
Made sense. During wartime, trawling near the border was suicidal unless you had nine lives.
"So if we run into the navy, we've got no excuse?"
"Not everyone's gone south. Just say the fish down there dried up and we came back up. Done."
"Ah."
Eden had prepped everything except the actual boating.
"Man, being out on the sea feels great. Clears the mind of worries, doesn't it?"
Eden looked genuinely pleased, but I couldn't agree.
You're my biggest worry. How's it supposed to feel great?
Trapped in this cramped space with nowhere to run, I could feel my lifespan ticking down in real time.
"Yeah, the sea's like that."
"Use this chance to empty your mind, Captain. You seem burdened by a lot."
Anyone hearing him would think we were on vacation.
Who does he think he is, some wise old sage who's lived it all?
Just a young know-it-all, through and through.
"I'll handle the helm until we cross into their waters. Why don't you rest?"
"Nah. If there's hard work, we share it. Can't lounge while you do all the labor."
I'd suggested it hoping for some alone time, but he was a tough nut.
"Speaking of, Captain—know how to sashimi fish?"
"Sashimi? Out of nowhere?"
"That guy said he stashed yesterday's catch. Gotta taste it."
Eden said it like it was obvious.
Surprised, but it didn't sound half bad.
Damn, am I starting to rub off on him?
This is the worst.
"Never done sashimi myself, but I'll give it a shot."
"Tsk. What have you even been doing as supply major? Never sliced sashimi."
No, why would a supply major slice sashimi?
We're managers, not field chefs. And even if I cooked, raw fish with food poisoning risk wouldn't make the menu.
"Cooking wasn't my job."
"Slacked off big time. Just hold the wheel. I'll handle it."
"You know how to sashimi?"
"Of course."
He asked like who doesn't? His tone implied it was basic knowledge.
"I've noticed since last time—your cooking skills are impressive."
"Anyone gets this good with practice."
Not wrong.
But this is way beyond bachelor-pad level.
No one slices sashimi at home unless they're pulling YouTube tutorials.
There's definitely something to it.
Seemed like he wanted to downplay his talent, but he'd clearly trained for some mission.
"Guess I should try cooking when I have time."
"Didn't during supply days, but sure you'll nail it now. Just steer."
He stabbed my chest with facts, then hauled up a sea bass.
How's he gonna prep that?
Never heard of fishing boats stocking sashimi knives.
"Nice fatty ones. Cost a pretty penny."
"I see. What for prepping?"
"Knife, obviously. You don't know that?"
Eden drew his sword from his belt.
He's cooking with that?
A blade that had likely taken dozens of necks. Cleaned spotless, sure, but still weird.
"Gift, so no price tag, but nothing sharper."
Yeah, it's a life-or-death tool.
He rinsed it in seawater like it was nothing and started slicing.
Shlick. Shlick-shlick.
Precise cuts removed guts and scales—impressive even to a layman like me.
"Try it."
"Uh... yeah, thanks."
He fed me a perfect slice.
"Well?"
"Deli... delicious."
They say the best ramen is seafood ramen at sea. Sashimi must be the same.
Oil so rich, no dipping sauce needed? And it's this good?
I thought sashimi was all about the sauce. Culture shock.
"Slicing sashimi for the newbie himself. Where else do you find that?"
"Y... yeah."
Couldn't argue this time.
Maybe he's not all bad.
Almost revised my opinion, then shook my head hard.
Snap out of it. Not a kid getting excited over food.
No matter how good the sashimi, no falling for it.
"If not for the mission, we'd have drinks. Shame."
"Ha... haha."
He looked genuinely disappointed.
Thought he'd forgotten the op, but nah.
The sashimi eased my tension a bit, but it didn't last.
"Hm. Alert."
An hour into Aditz waters.
Eden scowled through his spyglass.
"Enemy warship...?"
"Nah, regular fishing boat. Heading our way."
I checked with my own glass.
Just a normal fishing boat.
Two options: let them approach or bolt.
"Play the fishermen well."
"Got it."
Eden steered toward contact.
Solid choice.
Fleeing could draw reports to the military—headache city.
Shlick-shlick.
They cast nets furiously; distance closed fast till they were right up on us.
"Hey, bros! Good bite here?!"
Five aboard; the captain-looking guy hailed us.
"Not like usual, but decent enough."
"Where you from? Boat doesn't look local."
Tricky question.
I glanced up at Eden.
Handle this, boss?
Blind faith. Boat skills aside, Eden aced improv.
"Galrot Village."
"Galrot? Fishermen there?"
"A few. Gotta eat fish in our village too. You?"
"Reese Village, right ahead. Village chief okayed fishing here?"
"Okay?"
Eden tilted his head at the oddity.
"Heh, seriously? Catching without chief's permission?"
The guy claimed sea rights boldly.
Op aside, ridiculous.
What, is he the lord?
Asking if the lord approved? Fine. But village chief?
"We're both under Baron Chamber. Need permission?"
How'd he know that? Pro-level place names from the major.
"We manage these waters, so yes, chief's okay needed. Don't you know?"
His friendly face twisted. Didn't expect pushback?
Manage the sea? Fertilize it? Hoe it?
Don't litter and call it managed. Bullshit.
"First I've heard. Got it. We'll head back, visit the village today."
No return trip anyway; Eden backed off.
But they weren't the chatty type.
"Before you go, lemme see your catch."
He moved to board.
What a pain.
Eden's face soured too.
"Just handle them?"
Whisper just for me.
Obviously—if he wanted, they'd be gone in under a minute.
Cleaning house would be easier.
But the whole point was zero noise.
"Gotta go that far? I'll sort the hold and swing by Reese."
"Just a peek. Gotta know the take in our zone. Or did you snag treasure?"
Stubborn bastard. Only way seemed messy.
"Haa."
Eden sighed, stepping back.
"Fine. Come check. Treasure? Just fish stink."
"That's the spirit. Boys, over."
They lashed boats; not just him—all but one hopped aboard.
"Just two of you out here?"
"Crew costs too much. Just my nephew."
"Yeah, labor's killer. Hold down here?"
"Yep. Open and look."
At Eden's easy okay, the guy smirked and lifted the hold door.
"Whoa! Nice haul!"
Impressed by the volume; meanwhile, Eden quietly gripped my shoulder.
"Nephew."
"Yes?"
Ghastly familial term. Op roleplay.
"Cross to their boat. Opposite side."
Whispered right in my ear.
His intent? Crystal.
"Handle the straggler."