Chapter 10
Chapter 10
A Surprisingly Decent Meal Was Born on the Deserted Island
I casually delivered the story I'd prepared in advance.
"Oh, this? I found it wedged between some rocks at the far end of the beach while I was out hunting. I think it belonged to people from my organization. Looks like the waves washed it ashore. Found some useful supplies inside."
"Something like that just happened to drift over here? That's lucky. What was inside? Open it up."
Winston pointed at the backpack with obvious curiosity.
I adjusted the strap on my shoulder and answered casually.
"Come on. Opening surprises immediately takes all the fun out of it."
Winston let out a laugh at my shameless response.
He resumed carving the wooden spear in his hands and spoke leisurely.
"Fine. How did the hunting go? Judging by the look of it, it seems like the only thing you hunted was that backpack. Difficult, wasn't it? Honestly, hunting isn't easy even for me. The terrain on this island is rough. You need traps or ambushes, and for a beginner..."
While Winston rambled on with his professional survival lecture, I casually shook the backpack.
Rattle. Rattle.
"I caught too much to carry by hand, so I just stuffed everything in here."
His hand froze.
He stared at me with wide eyes.
"Everything? In that bag?"
Instead of answering, I simply shrugged.
"Anyway, we can talk about that later. Show me the shelter first."
Winston immediately straightened up, pride spreading across his face.
He stood and led me toward the A-frame shelter he'd built.
"Take a good look. This isn't just a pile of wood. The essence of survival is insulation and waterproofing."
Pointing at various parts of the structure, Winston launched into a passionate explanation.
I listened carefully, storing every detail away for future use.
"First, I drove two sturdy Y-shaped supports into the ground. Then I placed the ridgepole across the top and secured everything with vines. This part is important. If you tie it incorrectly, the shelter collapses while you're sleeping and crushes you."
He ran his hand across the palm leaves covering the sides.
"See how the leaves overlap? They need to be layered from the bottom upward. That way rainwater runs down like roof tiles. If you reverse the order, water leaks straight inside and you'll end up fighting a battle underwater."
I nodded while examining the interior.
The floor was covered with a thick layer of dry grass and small branches.
"I also raised the bedding slightly off the ground. Cold and moisture from the earth steal body heat faster than anything else. And look at the entrance. It's positioned away from the prevailing wind. That keeps smoke out while trapping warmth inside."
The knowledge he'd gained through real-world experience was incredible.
Everything he explained was logical and detailed.
Even though the shelter looked simple, every corner contained calculations aimed at survival.
"So? Isn't it fantastic?"
For a second, I thought he'd said something else.
Oh.
Fantastic.
Watching Winston puff out his chest proudly, I set my backpack on the ground.
"Perfect. Now it's my turn."
I slowly opened the zipper and grinned.
The first thing I pulled out was a chocolate bar.
I waved it in front of his face.
"Look at this."
Winston studied the wrapper.
I continued before he could speak.
"It's the exact same chocolate bar I gave you earlier. That's proof it belonged to someone from my organization. We used to eat these regularly. Like standard supplies."
Winston thought for a moment before nodding.
"That does make sense. It suggests your companions may have been stranded somewhere nearby. That's good news, Cheon."
I seized the momentum and fully opened the backpack.
"And now for the important part. Want to know what I brought back?"
A series of rustling sounds emerged from inside.
The crabs revealed themselves.
Winston crouched down to examine them.
His eyes immediately lit up.
"These are shore crabs. They may be small, but they're packed with protein and chitosan. This species has relatively thin shells, so roasting or frying them whole provides an excellent source of calcium. Finding this many on such a barren coastline is impressive."
I waved my hand dismissively.
"Yeah, yeah. The important part is that they're edible."
Winston clenched his fist, genuinely impressed.
"No, this is seriously good work. For a first day of hunting, you've exceeded every expectation."
I smirked and lightly bumped my fist against his.
"The real surprise comes now."
I opened another compartment and pulled out a heavier prize.
A dark shell.
A thick, meaty body.
"...An abalone?"
Winston's voice rose noticeably.
He practically snatched it from my hands.
"My god, Cheon! Look at the size of this thing! An abalone this large should be living in much deeper water. How did you even find it? You might genuinely have a talent for hunting. This is unbelievable!"
He handled the abalone as carefully as if it were a medal of honor.
Now it was time for the real cheat items.
I reached into the backpack again and opened another compartment.
"You're still not done being surprised."
The first thing I pulled out was a lighter.
Click.
A small flame appeared.
Winston's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets.
Next came a pack of wet wipes.
Then a bag of potato chips.
Finally, I placed a carefully wrapped pack of cigarettes on the ground.
"There. That should be enough luxury options for our penthouse."
For a moment, Winston couldn't find any words.
A lighter.
Cigarettes.
Wet wipes.
On a deserted island, these things were practically treasures worth their weight in gold.
Winston immediately began preparing the food.
Watching him handle the knife, he looked more like a professional chef than a survival expert.
"Watch closely, Cheon. Separating the abalone from the shell is the first step."
He carefully slid the blade into a narrow gap.
"You need to remove the muscle cleanly without rupturing the organs. See this mouth section? The teeth have to go. They're unpleasant to eat, and there's always the possibility of bacteria."
I sat nearby and carefully memorized his movements.
I'd seen scenes like this countless times in survival programs.
In reality, though, the process required far more effort.
Television edited everything down.
Actual preparation involved cleaning away every piece of debris and handling each ingredient carefully.
"The crabs are much simpler."
Every tip he gave was practical.
I made a conscious effort to remember even the angle of his knife.
If I ended up alone someday, this knowledge could save my life.
"Did you study cooking professionally too? Your knife skills are impressive."
Winston answered calmly.
"Not really. Think of it as survival cooking. It's about calories rather than flavor. Fuel rather than enjoyment. So don't get your hopes up. This isn't a five-star hotel."
I nodded while staring into the campfire.
Still...
Something felt off.
After watching his knife work for a while, I stood.
"Winston. You keep cooking. I'm going to check out a treasure vault I found earlier."
He paused and looked up.
"A treasure vault?"
"A garbage pile. It was full of useful Styrofoam. Just remembered it and figured I'd grab some."
Winston looked concerned.
"Can you carry it all by yourself?"
"That's why I'm taking the backpack. No point going empty-handed when I've got something to carry things in."
Winston nodded and returned to preparing the food.
I headed toward the pile of debris I'd found earlier on the beach.
Back at the site, I gathered several large pieces of Styrofoam.
Now how should I use this stuff?
Happy thoughts filled my head.
It could become a bed.
Or a chair.
If necessary, it could even serve as a table.
I stuffed the smaller pieces into the backpack and tucked the larger ones under my arm.
The pieces were bulky, but they weighed almost nothing.
Carrying them was easy.
A savory aroma drifted through the air.
The smell of cooking crab and abalone.
Assuming dinner was nearly ready, I returned to camp.
The moment I stepped inside, I doubted my own eyes.
"...Huh?"
I had expected to see food skewered over branches above the fire.
Instead, I saw shining silver metal.
And bubbling broth.
"What the hell is that? That's a pot!"
I stared in disbelief.
Winston casually pointed toward the opposite side of the beach.
"Over there."
"Over where?"
"About a five-minute walk in the opposite direction from where you went. There's another debris field. I found it while gathering materials for the shelter."
I felt as though someone had smacked me in the head with a hammer.
I'd spent all my time searching the area where I found the backpack.
Naturally, I'd assumed that was the island's only useful spot.
Meanwhile, Winston had casually explored the opposite direction and found a cooking pot practically on our doorstep.
"Only five minutes away?"
"It wasn't far at all. You were too focused on looking into the distance. I simply checked the nearby areas first."
Then he grabbed several branches and began slicing them apart with his knife.
"What's that for?"