The Giant Knight and Army Stew
"But this gets engraved on the pet itself, is that not the part of it?"
Mu Beob-sa asked the question. In response, Won-goo stared intently at Neverland.
Neverland had been standing there in a daze, but the moment he caught Won-goo's gaze, he hurriedly answered. "If you engrave it on the person, it transfers to the pet immediately. And once that happens, the pet stays permanently enhanced."
"Then shouldn't we summon Dulla first and engrave it while he's out?"
"That would be the way, wouldn't it? Chul-soo, are you ready?"
"Yes, sir. All set. I'll bring Dulla out as well."
"Good. Then Jo Mu-sa, begin."
At that, Jo Mu-sa pressed the knife against Neverland's forearm.
"Ah…… w-wait a second. Couldn't you give me something for the pain first?"
Won-goo snorted. "You're not fully cured yet, remember? Your tongue's still nice and springy. Want me to make it bounce some more?"
"……"
"Don't make a sound. Scream, and I'll turn you into dough."
The blade bit into flesh.
Neverland clamped his lips shut and swallowed the moans threatening to burst out of him. Better to have raw flesh carved off, he decided, than to undergo another round of 'treatment'.
The seal transplant itself was simple. Attaching a seal was far easier than peeling one off. You lifted the seal away from the skin, shaved the surface of the receiving flesh lightly, pressed it on — and that was all. Even with such a crude procedure, the seal took hold firmly. The only thing that demanded care was keeping the seal itself undamaged.
Having just come through a major battle, Dulla was fairly banged up. And yet even now, they could watch his condition steadily improving by the minute.
Dulla, swinging the Bat of Me-6 around with gleeful abandon, was every inch a hyperactive schoolkid.
"He's a menace. Dulla, hold still!"
One word from Geum Chul-soo and Dulla sulked into silence. With the unmistakable look of a middle-aged medieval knight, the effect was strangely surreal.
"Do I need to memorize some kind of incantation?"
Chul-soo asked. "Nope. A seal only needs you to know what the ability does. You've heard all of them."
"Honestly, that part doesn't quite make sense to me."
"Perception is a powerful thing. Just the act of perceiving changes a great deal. I 'treated' that bastard Neverland, but he never thought of it as treatment. That's why it hurt. If he'd believed it was treatment? It would genuinely have become treatment. Perception is that important of a……"
"That is nonsense, is the part of it."
Mu Beob-sa, who had been listening, cut in.
"Why must you speak so crudely to your elders?"
"Because you are spouting sophistry, is the part of it."
"This is the kind of metaphysics an old-timer like you can't possibly……"
"Hyeong-nim!"
At that moment, Lee Hyun-sung barked out. The others were no different.
They were all staring at the change taking place in Dulla's body. The seal now etched into Dulla's face — identical to the one transplanted onto Chul-soo.
And Dulla was growing. Growing to a size that made them wonder if this was even allowed.
"This was possible, is the part of it?"
"Well, would you look at that…… it really works."
Even Won-goo didn't know every piece of information in the apocalypse. So surprise was only natural. If a seal could enhance a capsule monster too, then the value of capsule monsters needed to be revised sharply upward.
"DUUUULLAAAA!"
The instant his body finished growing, Dulla let out a tremendous roar. But his voice was different from before. It had always been loud, yet now it rang out so powerfully that 'resonant' hardly covered it. It carried the timbre of a trained vocalist hitting a proper note.
His voice had deepened, too. And his appearance had transformed even more dramatically. His frame had swelled to well over twice its former size, and he'd shot up just as much in height. He looked to stand a good three meters tall. Not quite Large Species territory, but a build that would hardly be outclassed anywhere.
"Never."
"Yes?"
"He doesn't just get bigger, right?"
"He gets stronger across the board."
"Director Gong, at that size he's going to be enormously useful, no? And you said he revives, too."
"Of course. From now on, we could build our operations around Chul-soo. Chul-soo."
"Yes, Director."
"Your role just became critical."
"M-me?"
Chul-soo stood there bewildered. Dulla was still adjusting to his own new body; there was no way his master could adapt to that statement so quickly.
"Yes, you. With Dulla grown to that size, there's a great deal you can do. I'm not just talking."
"Before that, his weapon needs replacing, is the part of it. It suits him far too poorly, is the part that bothers me."
Sure enough, compared to his massive frame, the weapon in his hand looked absurdly small. It wasn't that the bat had shrunk — it was that Dulla had grown.
"Pacific. You've got something usable, right?"
"I do. But shouldn't we check how much stronger he's gotten first?"
"Whatever we check, there aren't that many weapon types he can wield. One hand has to stay free to hold his head."
"Fair point. Honestly, that thing's a glitch. If it weren't for that, he'd have so much more utility. He could carry a shield, for one."
"Maybe once he grows further."
"Grows further? You mean the head might reattach someday?"
"It doesn't reattach. It floats."
"Oh, come on. Unbelievable……"
"……?"
"You're always trying to mess with people. I'm not falling for it. A Dullahan whose head just floats around, please."
"Ask around, then. Whether it's real or not. We caught one of them ourselves."
"Seriously?"
"Yep. The dungeon that connects to Ark. Its boss was one of them — a Dullahan floating in midair. They're called the Dulla clan, but that's a pain to explain. Anyway, you little punk! Just listen when someone talks to you."
"You give me so much grief, of course I push back. Wait — so Dulla might, you know, back then……?"
"No, not that."
"But then why—— BLEGH!"
Pacific suddenly retched up blood. It was the aftereffect of the drug Won-goo had given him.
Jo Mu-sa, as if he'd been waiting for exactly this moment, slapped a patch onto Pacific's forehead. Pacific spent a while just catching his breath, then dug several syringes out of his bag.
"I'll handle it."
Jo Mu-sa stepped in and expertly administered the injections by type, hooking up an IV line as well.
Drenched in cold sweat and barely back among the living, Pacific looked up at Won-goo and said one thing. "I am NEVER taking that stuff again!"
Won-goo was cooking personally in an enormous cauldron.
He'd pulled out a whole box of ramyeon, but this was no ordinary ramyeon. It was budae-jjigae — army stew — the food reserved for when a truly massive battle had been fought. It wasn't a dish that was impossible to come by at the Shelter, but out in the Field it was genuinely hard to get.
Spam in particular cost far more than ramyeon. Ham, by contrast, could be obtained relatively cheaply — because among the monsters, there were quite a few that tasted remarkably close to livestock like pigs, chickens, cattle, and sheep. Jerky and its ilk had become practically the staple diet of survivors.
But Spam-type canned meat was a different story. It reproduced, down to the last note, the exact flavor made back when Earth's civilization was still alive — which made it precious by necessity.
It wasn't that Spam tasted especially better. It was simply that, to survivors, it was the taste of Earth — a flavor that let them remember the days when they were still human. That was what mattered.
"Hyeong-nim! I have a report!"
Lee Hyun-sung approached and spoke up.
"Go ahead."
"We found the Seal Collectors' remains, but not a single seal survived intact in its original form."
"Right. I wasn't expecting that anyway. What about the other loot?"
"The loot…… there wasn't much worth salvaging either. Whatever did survive is all junk. I'm sorry, Hyeong-nim!"
Hyun-sung bowed his head.
"Why are you apologizing? When you fight, days like this happen. It's just strange how whenever we get tangled up with those Ganjeol Point bastards, the losses keep piling up."
"I'm sorr——"
"Enough apologizing. Call everyone over. Suwon, is the food done?"
"A-all done!"
"Everybody gather up! Tonight's a special one — real army stew. Even the kimchi went in."
Once the crew had assembled, Won-goo dropped in the noodles he'd set aside, gave the pot a few lazy stirs with the ladle, and after that it was every man for himself.
One ritual, however, never changed: Hyun-sung always personally ladled out Won-goo's portion.
"Enjoy your meal, Hyeong-nim!"
"Thanks. Eat plenty yourself, Hyun-sung."
"Yes, Hyeong-nim. Gratefully received!"
Mealtime. Won-goo's crew barely spoke during meals — especially when food this good came out. They'd made enough army stew to fill a commercial kitchen cauldron to the brim, and the crew devoured every last drop. You could have called any one of them a competitive eater without fear of exaggeration.
Notably, Pacific and Won-goo were shoveling this food down barely a few hours after taking severe damage to their internal organs. It was nothing short of miraculous regeneration.
"I feel like a living man again. Hyun-sung."
"Yes, Hyeong-nim."
"Break out the liquor. Tell them to take it easy."
"Understood, Hyeong-nim."
The alcohol was rationed out. Not beer, but soju — the kind that came in plastic bottles. One bottle per person.
"What should we have for anju?"
"Hyeong-nim, we have samgyeopsal. Pork belly."
"Good. Grill up some of the stuff we took off Pacific."
The Trap heated to searing temperatures. The pork belly went straight onto its surface, they counted exactly five seconds, and then it was yanked off.
Ssssssss—
With that hiss, the pork belly crisped up rapidly. The crew ate the grilling meat with utter relish. And the man doing the grilling was none other than Neverland.
"Hey! Faster! Grill it nice and quick! Or would you rather go up there yourself?"
"Yes! Grilling faster, sir!"
At Won-goo's bark, Neverland's hands sped up. He had been reduced, wholly and completely, to a slave.
As the soju flowed alongside the pork belly, the crew began to loosen up and talk.
"By the way, Director Gong."
"What is it?"
"Is that place somewhere we should skip, is the part I'm asking?"
"You mean Mix's hideout?"
"That is the part I mean."
"Right, Director Gong. If we went there, couldn't we restock at least a little?"
Won-goo smirked. "Once could be a fluke. Twice, you could chalk up to bad luck pushing it. But getting burned three times? Not on my watch. We've been double-crossed by Ganjeol Point far too many times already. Mix — how did she look to you?"
"She was shaking like a leaf?"
"No. However scared she looked, she's Ganjeol's daughter. And the head of her own crew, besides. There's definitely something there."
"So that's why we're skipping it?"
"Going later won't be too late. Didn't we just scrape together every last one of those Ganjeol Point bastards today?"
"Some of them got away, didn't they?"
"Then they'll have already looted the place. For us, going would mean either coming back empty-handed or walking into a trap. Better to head home fast. And don't think of it as a loss. Today we gained things money couldn't buy. Our Chul-soo got an upgrade, didn't he?"
At that, everyone nodded. Dulla's enhancement really had been a major gain.
That said, there was no denying the problem: the coins spent fighting today's battle had been substantial.
"And there's another gain coming, too."
"Ganjeol, maybe? That's scheduled. But Mix?"
"She's useless."
"Then who?"
"That bastard over there."
Won-goo jerked his chin toward Neverland, who was grilling pork belly with dogged dedication.
"There's more left to squeeze out of him, is the part of it?"
Mu Beob-sa asked. "There is. Our Hwanggeum-i."
"The goblin?"
"Right. He's nearly fully matured, but he still hasn't awakened, has he? That means there could be a reason for it. And he's going to help us find the answer."
"How do you even know that?"
"Because I do. It's a related Gift, of a sort. The variable is that I don't know how that bastard went about his coin enhancement, but…… a Goblin Shaman? He'd recognize one at a glance."
"Ahh, if only the Trainer were still here, we'd know right away. Isn't that right, Director Gong?"
"……"
"……"
In that instant, the entire crew froze mid-motion. Everyone except Rafael.
To Won-goo's people, the Trainer was nothing less than a forbidden word. Some of the crew had known him personally, some hadn't — but all of them knew. Mentioning the Trainer was taboo.
"Haha…… did I drink too much? Ah, my stomach's killing me. I should go turn in."
Desperate to escape responsibility for the sudden chill in the air, Pacific bolted from his seat in a hurry.