Chapter 62: Sharing Warmth (1)
Chapter 62: Sharing Warmth (1)
(62/225)
As the new year began, changes also came to the daily lives of the regular customers who frequented the food truck.
To mark the start of the year, Fedora departed for the sacred land of the Heirem Order, where she would stay for about two months. One of the duties of the Cardinals was to periodically reside in the holy land to compose themselves and reflect, and this time it was Fedora’s turn. She regretted having to part, for a while, not only with the special tteokbokki but with bunsik altogether, yet she bade Jinseo farewell while saying she looked forward to discovering new bunsik by the time she returned. She left wearing the scarf he had given her and thick fur gloves on both hands.
Julien stayed at Painfolt’s mage tower, participating in research on Geshtain’s spatial teleportation magic. He was not walking the path of magic again, but joined strictly as a supporting assistant to the two of them. Because of that, it was not uncommon for the three of them to visit the food truck together after finishing their research.
Craid departed somewhere with Hayward, having accepted a commission from Oswald. Jinseo did not know the details and could only hope that the two would return safely. On the Francia Continent, a fantasy world, one never knew when or where danger might arise.
Jinseo continued running the food truck as usual, and thanks to Jason and Foltan’s help, the bunsik business went smoothly. According to the graphs displayed by the AI, sales of the newly added roasted chestnuts and roasted sweet potatoes climbed steadily day by day.
Apart from the fact that the food truck itself had become a local attraction, Falstead Castle passed through what seemed like a peaceful year.
Then, toward that very Falstead Castle, several hundred troops began their march.
“Haah… I came way too early.”
Arriving on the Francia Continent two hours earlier than usual, Jinseo yawned and scratched the back of his neck. He had fallen asleep without turning off the alarm he had set the night before to match his shopping schedule back in Korea.
Perhaps because of that, none of the customers who would normally already be waiting were in sight. It was also too early for Jason and Foltan to arrive, so for the first time in a while, Jinseo began preparing for business alone.
“Huh? What’s that?”
While placing rice cakes onto the griddle, Jinseo noticed something unusual and paused his work. Barracks that had not been there the day before had sprung up all around the castle walls.
People moved back and forth between the tents, and several of them gathered into a group and walked toward the food truck.
Weapons hung at their waists.
Unstandardized, free-spirited clothing.
An attitude that showed little trace of discipline, unlike the soldiers or knights who often used the food truck.
As he poured tteokbokki sauce onto the griddle, Jinseo carefully observed the men drawing closer.
Are those the mercenaries I’ve only heard about?
Rare in reality, but a common profession in a fantasy world—mercenaries.
The old Jinseo would have shrunk back just from looking at them, but now was different. While on the Francia Continent, his body had grown significantly stronger.
“What is this thing?”
“It’s a carriage, right? But where’d the horse go?”
The men, seeing the food truck for the first time, examined it with curious looks. Jinseo, on the other hand, pressed his lips together.
From them, he sensed the unmistakable aura of troublesome customers, and before business had even properly begun, worry crept in.
I hope my gut feeling is wrong…
“It’s warm in here. Is there some kind of magic on it?”
“Looks like business is good. What are they even selling?”
“Seems like food.”
Once inside the range of the climate-control device, the men felt a strong wave of hunger stirred by the smell of food spreading through the air.
“Welcome to the food truck. I sell bunsik—light food meant to be enjoyed casually.”
“Food truck?”
“Bunsik? What’s that supposed to be?”
“He said it’s food. I’m sick of eating the same stuff all the time—this works out nicely.”
Showing interest, the men sat down at the counter.
“Bring us some alcohol first.”
“I’m sorry, but we don’t sell alcohol.”
At Jinseo’s reply, their expressions twisted all at once.
It feels bad from the start… figures. I wish they’d just leave.
Two of the seated men stood up and headed back toward the barracks. Contrary to Jinseo’s hope that the rest would follow, those who remained stared intently at the menu board Jason had prepared.
The board was filled with unfamiliar food names they had never even heard of.
“Tteok-twig-sun-ra-gim? What a strange-sounding dish.”
“If it’s your first time trying bunsik, I recommend starting with tteok-twig-sun.”
Part of him wanted to stay silent, but he could not give first-time customers a bad impression. Jinseo patiently explained each dish.
“If you add ramen and gimbap too, it might be too filling.”
“Whatever. Just bring that tteok-twig-sun thing.”
After placing his order, the man flicked the menu board aside.
“Oh? They opened early today!”
“Let’s go—no line today.”
A few citizens who had come outside the castle for errands approached the food truck. But when one of the mercenaries looked toward the gate and locked eyes with a regular customer, he suddenly glared at them.
“What are you looking at?”
At his threat, the customers froze, then turned back the way they came.
One by one, regulars who had come to enjoy bunsik as usual were driven off by the mercenaries’ stares. They gathered at a distance from the food truck, unsure what to do, shivering in the cold wind.
“Owl, please.”
At Jinseo’s request, Owl grabbed a menu board with a pen attached and flew toward the regular customers. Owl guided the frightened patrons to the table farthest away from the mercenaries.
I’ll wait and see for now.
“Here you go.”
As Jinseo served the food, the men began eating the steaming bunsik with forks.
“Huh? What is this? I’ve never tasted anything like it.”
“Kah! Why is it so spicy?”
“It’s spicy, but it’s good. Hey, try this too.”
Fortunately, their evaluation of the food was positive. The chances were slim, but Jinseo hoped they would just eat quietly and leave.
That hope was shattered when the two who had left earlier returned, carrying a massive barrel of alcohol.
“We brought booze!”
“Let’s get wasted today!”
Placing the barrel behind the counter, the two men handed out empty cups to their waiting companions.
They were not only intimidating other customers—they were on the verge of starting a full-blown drinking party.
“Please refrain from drinking alcohol here.”
“What? I bought it with my own money—why can’t I drink it?”
“Then may I package the remaining food for you so you can eat elsewhere?”
“Do you even know who we are?”
“It’s cold outside—why should we?”
The men scowled and threatened Jinseo as he politely asked them to leave. Nero, sitting atop the cat tower, narrowed his eyes at them, but Jinseo raised his left hand to signal him not to interfere.
They really are mercenaries.
By checking the status windows floating above their heads, Jinseo identified their profession and rough ability levels.
Mercenaries. Physical rank hovering around D-grade—lower than Jinseo’s.
With his current physical rank, he could drive them off without much effort. But if the hundreds of mercenaries stationed farther away joined in, it would be a different story.
I’ll have to call the guards.
Jinseo set the kitchen knife down on the cutting board and rolled up his sleeves. Just as he took a deep breath and prepared to step down from the kitchen, he recognized a familiar face approaching from afar and stepped back inside instead.
It was someone who could resolve this far more peacefully than Jinseo himself.
“You lot—are you the Raven Mercenary Group?”
A massive shadow fell over the mercenaries’ heads.
“Yeah, we’re the Raven Mercenary—”
Their faces turned deathly pale as they looked back. Over two meters tall, Craid’s presence radiated pressure so intense that they silently set down the cups in their hands.
“There’s no seat.”
When Craid glanced casually toward the center of the counter, the mercenaries hurriedly shifted aside to make room for him.
“Sir Craid, did you complete the commission safely?”
“Nothing worth mentioning. Just three servings of jjolmyeon, lightly.”
Seated, Craid crossed his arms and stared straight ahead as if nothing had happened. But upon hearing his name, the mercenaries grew even more flustered.
“Craid… the Lone Swordsman?”
“The Hero of Girvante?”
“T-the greatsword on his back! Look at that blade! If that’s the man who uses it—”
“You still don’t know what you should really be worried about.”
Slurp.
While calmly slurping his jjolmyeon, Craid pointed with his left hand toward the driver’s seat of the food truck.
The mercenaries sprang to their feet when they saw the emblem marking it as a sacred relic of the Heirem Order.
“Behave yourselves in front of a sacred relic.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
“And put that alcohol away.”
“Understood!”
They hastily gathered the barrel and cups, lined them up neatly in one place, then sat politely at the table behind the counter—legs together, fists resting on their knees.
It feels like watching fresh recruits waiting in the barracks.
Jinseo smiled bitterly.
If there was one saving grace, it was that there was no clergy present who could impose severe punishment. Instead, standing right before them was Craid—someone who might deliver an even harsher one.
“W-we’ll be going now—”
“Wait.”
“Y-yes?”
“Come here.”
After finishing all three servings of jjolmyeon, Craid stood up and pointed at the plates they had left behind.
“There’s food left.”
“Th-that’s fine!”
“We’re… we’re full.”
In truth, they were still hungry, but they were so tense that anything they ate would upset their stomachs.
“Leaving food behind earns punishment.”
Craid never left food unfinished. To him, wasting food was among the gravest sins.
Normally, he would not care if others left food behind and would simply focus on eating more himself. That judgment was his own standard, not something he forced on others—except in special circumstances.
And this was one of those circumstances.
“Eat.”
“Y-yes!”
“Understood!”
“Every last bite.”
They crowded around the plates and obeyed his command. Needless to say, they had no time to savor the taste.
Instead, the spiciness of the tteokbokki assaulted their tongues and mouths.
This is way too spicy for me… damn it.
Just shut up and eat! You think it’s not spicy for me? If we don’t, it’ll get worse!
Whose idea was it to drink? Why are we suffering like this…
As they suffered through the disaster of their own making, Craid tore open a carbonated drink and handed it to them.
“Drink. It’ll calm the heat.”
As soon as Craid’s quiet yet highly effective punishment ended, the mercenaries fled in a panic.
Panting, they reached the barracks and gestured wildly as they spoke about Craid, and the effect spread quickly. People around the tents began murmuring, unable to take their eyes off the man seated at the counter.
Craid really does hold a special position among mercenaries.
When Craid first appeared at Falstead Castle, soldiers and knights admired him for his solitary feats. Ordinary citizens praised him as the Hero of Girvante.
But among mercenaries, Craid’s standing was on an entirely different level.
He had passed through multiple mercenary groups, proving his strength beyond doubt. Those who had fought beside him, watching him charge with nothing but a greatsword, were mercenaries.
To them, he was a living legend.
To Jinseo, however, he was also a different kind of living legend—the man who ate the most bunsik.
“Sir Craid!”
A middle-aged man with a thick beard rushed toward him just after he finished three bowls of cheese ramen.
“Malcolm? It’s been a while.”
“I never thought I’d see you in a place like this. It’s been about three years, hasn’t it?”
The man called Malcolm smiled lightly as he looked at the tall stack of empty bowls beside Craid.
“Your appetite hasn’t changed.”
“These days I focus more on taste than quantity, so I’m eating less. Jinseo, three servings of vegetable gimbap, light.”
“That’s really eating light for you.”