The Jiggly Soup
Compared to the chaotic first day, the second and third days passed without incident. The division of roles meant I no longer had to tend the fire at night, which was a relief, but sleeping on cold ground after two years had wrecked my back and waist with no mercy for any sense of reunion. Was this what it meant to live as a mercenary or traveler—giving up your spine entirely? The throbbing pain made me sit up straighter without thinking. …Without leaning against the tent.
“Mmm…”
“We’re almost there, so just hold on a little longer.”
I must have been groaning without realizing it. The voice came from the front of the wagon. I’d been staring at the floor the whole ride, but now I turned my head toward the open front. Just as the driver said, finally—there it was. Far in the distance, a city silhouette hung on the horizon.
The brief surge of joy faded quickly. What appeared ahead was the same checkpoint line found at any city. Our wagon, stuck at the very back of the flow, began crawling forward like cars in a traffic jam.
At least Windren was better than the capital. The inspection here was looser, with fewer people and less strict procedures than the crowded, thorough checks at the royal city. Thanks to that, the nights weren’t as safe as in the capital, but… in this unrealistic fantasy world, no city could run perfectly within the bounds of law anyway.
“Rohan, Karsion, three passengers total.”
When we reached the city gate, the driver spoke briefly to the guard. It felt like a faint guarantee of identity for the passengers. If anyone in the wagon caused trouble inside the city, the driver wouldn’t be held responsible. He was only vouching that these people had traveled from one place to another.
“Rohan… Rohan? Ah, there you are. Three passengers… Yes, you may enter.”
The guard didn’t comment on the dark bloodstains clinging to our clothes and simply waved us through. Maybe because it was dark inside the tent? They probably looked like water or dirt marks. I tugged at the hem of my clothes with my fingertips, then let go.
The wagon slowly passed through the arched gate and into Windren. Leaving behind the familiar smell of horse dung that always lingered outside city walls, the driver spoke.
“You two can get off now. Young guest, please stay seated a little longer.”
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“……”
The couple, whose distance had clearly grown over just a few days, pinched their noses and stepped down from the wagon. Left alone with the intensifying stench of manure, I started breathing through my mouth. The sharp, vivid smell of blood I’d grown used to over two years was somehow easier to bear than this familiar, metallic odor of the city outskirts. Summer must be hell here—if this was winter and it was already this bad…
The wagon wheels rumbled over the dirt, heading toward an empty lot where drivers who had finished their routes rested. The driver disappeared into a small, shabby hut and soon emerged with a worn coin purse, grinning.
“Hehe, let’s go!”
“Ah, yes.”
The old driver smiled brightly, as if to say “you can look forward to this,” and I finally stepped out from the shade of the wagon’s canopy into the sunlight. Free food was always welcome. Even in the sunny spot, the biting wind still numbed my senses. The weak winter sun offered little warmth, while the wind remained mercilessly cold. The driver shivered as a sudden gust hit him.
“Brr… It’s gotten quite cold, hasn’t it?”
“Y-yeah, it has.”
I gave a half-hearted reply and continued walking with my body hunched. Honestly, if it weren’t for the free meal, I would’ve gone straight to a warm inn and collapsed onto a soft bed. Is this the restaurant? I watched his steps, but it wasn’t. Maybe that one? Still no. By the time I started wondering if we were touring the whole city just for one meal, his pace suddenly turned. At the end of the path stood nothing but an ordinary door with no sign or anything else.
The old driver opened it like it was his own home.
‘Wait, are we even allowed in here?’
Even with someone leading the way, the atmosphere made me hesitate. Still, the driver held the door open, so I had no choice but to follow.
“Welcome—”
Stepping inside the unmarked building, I was greeted by warmth that wrapped around my body and the relaxed voice of a middle-aged woman. Somehow, tucked away in this back alley, there was a perfectly respectable restaurant. The heat inside restored the senses the wind had stolen. Still, the location made me wonder how they got any business. Most restaurants sat on main roads to attract customers, yet this place had no sign at all—and it was fairly full.
The strange feeling of common sense being overturned was pushed aside as I took a seat.
“Two orders of bread and jiggly soup, please.”
The driver raised his hand and ordered without offering any choices. Something about the name felt off.
‘Jiggly soup…?’
Bread was normal enough, but what the hell was jiggly soup? The unsettling word choice sent a flicker of anxiety through me, but the order was already placed.
“You’ve probably never had this before, hehe…”
The driver’s confident laugh only made the unease worse. If even someone who casually chewed up snakes claimed I’d never eaten anything like this, then whatever came out couldn’t be normal. Given the world we were in, maybe it was slime stew? But still… people didn’t usually use that as an ingredient. And wouldn’t jelly just dissolve if you boiled it into soup?
With nothing to go on except that it was supposedly a soup, any attempt to guess only made the dread sharper. Was this a free meal or culinary torture?
Before I could figure anything out, a bubbling dish and several loaves of bread were set on the table. The bowl was deep and black. The liquid inside wasn’t thick enough to really be called soup—just an opaque white broth. Translucent chunks floating faintly beneath the surface made me frown.
What on earth was this?
“Try the broth first. You won’t regret it. You’ve got to be willing to eat all kinds of things.”
The old driver scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and drank. It felt like watching a foreigner being force-fed kimchi and fermented soybean paste. Swallowing my fear, I lifted a spoonful of the broth and drank it down.
I braced for some grotesque flavor to assault my tongue—only to be met with a strangely comforting taste spreading through my mouth.
‘Huh?’
I smacked my lips, searching for the familiar flavor left on my tongue. It was something I recognized, yet had never actually eaten before. Not a taste the original owner of this body would have known. A familiar flavor, clean aftertaste, something that made me tilt my head—this was…
A remnant of the modern world. Strange, yet nostalgic.
While I was digging through my memories trying to name it, the driver watched me with a puzzled look and spoke.
“How is it? Warms you up, doesn’t it? Tastes pretty good too.”
“Yeah… I guess.”
I gave a vague reply and kept scooping more. The broth was hot enough to burn my tongue, so of course it warmed my body. Now, what had they called this again? The soup made with beef tendons… what was the name?
‘Ah, right… dogani-tang.’
After thinking for a while, I finally remembered and scooped up one of the chunks with my spoon. The wobbly, translucent piece. So that’s why they called it jiggly soup. It had me completely fooled—I’d been so tense.
‘Well, it’s not exactly a common ingredient…’
I popped the translucent chunk into my mouth and savored the heat. The driver looked impressed as he watched someone who couldn’t even eat common ingredients like tooth snakes happily chew down an unidentified lump.
“Oh, you’re eating it pretty well.”
“Ah, yeah…”
I couldn’t exactly say I’d had something similar before, so I gave another noncommittal answer. For a moment, I felt disoriented by the sight of what was clearly a medieval fantasy restaurant serving something straight out of a Korean soup alley. Then my eyes caught the driver tearing bread and dipping it into the white broth.
Deep inside, the modern human in me screamed in outrage.
In this bizarre scene, no one objected. The restaurant was full of people treating the thick soup like it was meant to be eaten with bread.
Give me rice instead of bread. White rice.