Mutiny Over Meals
“Y... yeah, now we’re talking! Death penalty’s a bit much, right?”
“But you’ve been kinda curt lately. I’m still direct lineage of a count’s family—does hierarchy mean nothing to you?”
“Uh... y-yes, sir! My apologies for the rudeness. I’m sorry.”
A man who’d plummeted as far as he could go.
I’d thought it would feel satisfying, but seeing him now stirred nothing—just an urge to get out of this place fast.
“Anyway, you don’t wanna die, right? You’ve got a son named David or something?”
“Y-yes... yes! My precious seven-year-old boy.”
“Aw, must be real important to you. Easy fix if you wanna save him and everyone else. Just sign here. Simple, huh?”
I pulled out the prepared share transfer contract and slid it into the cell.
“Just sign, and... you’ll let me out right away?”
“Hmm, even so, you’ve got crimes to pay for. Not immediately, but I’ll talk to the lord and get it down to three years. Not bad, right?”
I could spring him right away if I wanted, but that’d be too sweet.
‘Gotta pay for embezzling soldiers’ rations for over a year.’
I’d originally planned five years, but this dump? Three should suffice.
‘Damn, how am I supposed to survive in this world with a soft heart like mine?’
Too damn nice for my own good.
“Three years?”
“What, not good enough? Fine by me if you’d rather die easy.”
“N-no! But could you shorten the term a bit...”
“Jeez, I try to cut you a deal and you still complain? Evaded over fifty thousand gold in taxes and three years is too much? Might as well face the law’s judgment...”
“I’ll sign... I’ll sign! Must’ve lost my mind for a sec! Haha!”
Before I could snatch it back, Alonso grabbed the pen.
“Urk!”
Last shred of pride, maybe.
His hand trembled as he gripped it, but that wouldn’t change a damn thing.
Scribble!
In the end, Alonso squeezed his eyes shut and scrawled his name on the contract. With that, ownership of the Alonso Trading Company transferred to Oclo Trading Company.
“Wha... what the hell is this?”
“Ham, Sergeant—is this a dream or reality?”
“Handing out meat like this? Is the division commander visiting or something?”
“Dig in!!!”
Thanks to Haiyel’s thorough prep, the food supplies from Oclo Trading Company started arriving at the battalion the very next day after the ownership switch.
“Whoa, what the heck did you do?”
The director, who’d joined us for lunch, kept marveling at the spread.
“Nothing special. Checked it out and saw Alonso Trading was in dire straits. So we just acquired it through Oclo.”
“So these supplies are from the lieutenant’s family company?”
“Yes.”
“Even if the lieutenant’s got the nation’s best interests at heart... doing it at a loss seems off.”
Ciel spoke cautiously, and I nearly burst out laughing.
‘Oclo Trading taking a loss?’
More likely an angel would sprout horns.
“No worries. We got them cheap through the family’s superior distribution network. No loss.”
“As expected of a major trading house. Unreal.”
That dawning realization of capital’s might on her face.
Felt like I was corrupting someone pure.
“Let’s eat.”
“Yes, enjoy your meal.”
As always, a quick greeting, then fork in hand.
‘Finally looks edible.’
Pure lamb roast, no weird additives. Fresh green salad.
Not more variety, but quality and quantity had skyrocketed.
“Loyalty! Director, company commander. Was just about to look for you.”
As I savored a bite, the supply platoon leader spotted us and approached.
“Platoon leader, lunch is amazing today. Soldiers look happy too.”
The director heaped praise on the meal.
“That’s actually why I came. Company commander, did you cast a spell or something?”
“Huh? A spell?”
“Budget didn’t increase, yet this change...”
His face screamed disbelief.
Exact same look Ciel had earlier.
“Just fixed the problem. Quality stays like this, so keep up the cooking.”
“Not just today, but every day... Understood! I’ll do my best!”
The platoon leader’s voice brimmed with resolve.
With recipe books from the trading company, meal quality improved daily.
“Damn it! How the hell are we supposed to fight on this slop?!”
“Ptoo! Can’t take it anymore! Send us home!”
At Rimir Castle—the western front, no, the war’s hottest spot.
They’d captured it, but the Aditz Empire hadn’t given up yet.
“Eat quick and get back up. Shift change!”
Infantry battalion company commander Captain Asimon bellowed, but the soldiers’ faces only darkened.
“Captain! We’re at our limit! Give us real food!”
One soldier snapped from hunger, and complaints erupted everywhere.
“Yeah! At least make the damn meals normal!”
“We’re humans too! Sick of that rock-hard bread and potatoes—makes me wanna puke!”
Normally, hierarchy would shut them down, but not now. No one dared speak.
“I’ll... report to command. Hang in there.”
“Damn it! Ptoo!”
Knowing it wasn’t the captain’s fault, the soldiers spat on the ground and climbed the walls.
This was happening all over the castle. It was only a matter of time before it blew.
“What? Say that again—I must’ve misheard.”
“At Rimir Castle, about a thousand soldiers mutinied. Currently suppressing.”
“Before that—the reason.”
“They... couldn’t stomach the poor rations.”
BAM!
The emperor slammed his rage-filled fist on the desk.
“I specifically allocated extra budget to Rimir Castle. Why are soldiers taking up arms over food? Are they mocking me? Rosen—explain.”
The emperor’s gaze turned to Rosen, who oversaw military logistics and finance.
“Sire, we checked immediately. The cooking facilities were destroyed in last month’s siege.”
“Rebuild and restart. That’s why I sent extra funds.”
“But anticipating delays, they used the budget on ready-to-eat bulk potatoes...”
In short: a thick-headed commander blew the extra funds on cheap, plentiful potatoes.
“Never seen such an idiot. Treating soldiers like machines? Who promoted this fool and put him in charge?!”
Everyone trembled at the emperor’s bloodthirsty roar.
“To me, the soldiers starving and grabbing weapons aren’t the rebels—the commander shoving potatoes down their throats is. Right, chief of staff?”
“I’m... sorry. I’ll fix it immediately.”
“Relieve all involved. Chief of staff—submit a plan by afternoon. If it’s lacking, prepare yourself.”
“Yes, sire!”
The emperor stormed out without a backward glance.
“Haa.”
With the suffocating pressure gone, everyone caught their breath.
“Unbelievable. Does the army promote idiots? Chief of staff.”
Rosen’s blunt elven candor struck hard.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Audits and this mess show most commanders are incompetent.”
Lumping in the room’s generals and Bust made everyone uncomfortable.
“That’s harsh, minister.”
“Harsh? Then do better from the start. You knew the army’s issues as chief of staff but sat idle. Complicit?”
“Minister!”
Bust raised his voice at the insult.
“Spend that anger cutting rot. Promotions run on connections, not merit. Shameful.”
Crunch!
No rebuttal—truth hurt. Bust clenched his fist.
“I’ll... correct it.”
“Actions, not words. Before I borrow His Majesty’s authority.”
In wartime, Rosen would draw steel now. Just giving Bust one last chance out of faint fondness.
“Understood.”
Short, but loaded.
“Now, solutions? Ideas?”
Rosen scanned the generals—silence.
“Tsk. Finance ministry’d raise hands for credit. Pathetic.”
Unfiltered venom. Generals averted eyes in shame.
“May I offer one?”
As they eye-balled each other post-humiliation, Intelligence Command Major General Kalun raised his hand.
“Oh, no one else? You step up. Speak.”
Kalun attended meetings quietly—rarely spoke. Not disinterest; intel reports covered it all.
“Was set for next week’s reveal. Intelligence surveyed unit meal quality recently.”
“When?”
“His Majesty ordered field checks.”
The motive glared obvious—grim faces all around.
“Highest satisfaction? Shockingly, 1st Division—near riot-hit Rimir.”
“Wasn’t that purged for bad food? No—reassigned.”
Bust looked baffled.
“Yes. But new company commander Lieutenant Palan Oclo and prior director Major Ciel overhauled it.”
I knew the full story—Alonso’s cell to acquisition—but no need to spill.
“Recent arrival, yet that impact? Oclo blood, huh.”
“Reports novel approaches we soldiers wouldn’t think of.”
Kalun nodded, agreeing with Bust.
“So your proposal?”
“Send those two to Rimir. With extra funds.”
Seemed reasonable, but one issue...