Chapter 203
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 203
Chapter Title: Survivors (6)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The butchering of the hunted game took place by the water's edge.
Peeling off the hide, separating the veins and tendons, washing away the blood, and stripping the bones. The scraped-out innards were collected in a separate container. It was for maintaining nutritional balance.
Ooh, jeez. The onlookers let out light groans. Some soldiers couldn't stomach the dark, squishy innards at all. It was like associating fireworks with a shootout.
Captain Langford made as many people watch the butchering as possible. The excuse was to observe and learn, but the real intent was something else. It was only natural for a commander to care about his soldiers' mental state. He needed to show them that something was actually getting done.
Leading by example was all the better the more visible it was—that was the captain's philosophy.
In the end, they yielded 140 kilograms of meat. Add in the cooking oil, flour, and sugar scavenged from the civilian homes, and they'd secured high-quality rations enough for the entire company to eat for two days with some to spare.
After lunch and about six hours of rest, Winter received a summons from Langford just after dinner.
The sun had set, but the temporary command post wasn't as dark as expected. They were getting power from solar panels brought from a civilian house. The others hadn't been slacking off either.
"You did good work today. Honestly, I wasn't expecting much, but you've eased a big worry."
More relaxed than he had been at dawn, Langford conveyed his decision.
"After discussing with the platoon leaders, we've decided to go with your suggestion. Staying put here for a few days is a burden, but... considering the distance left to Yuba City, now's the time to make haste slowly. Captain Harris ended up like that because he got too hungry, after all."
Captain Harris. A name he hadn't heard in a while. The man who'd clashed over food supplies, ended up killing civilians, and chased survivors all the way to Lake Santa Margarita. He'd probably been killed by the variants by now.
The Department of Defense hadn't covered up the incident. It was now the most famous battle Winter had fought in. Dramatic in all sorts of ways. Even the baby born that day had captured the nation's attention.
"I called you to set some concrete goals. Your judgment as the man on the ground is key. Can you stockpile 100 kilograms a day for the next five days? It might seem demanding, but anything less would undermine the point of staying here."
To purely meet the U.S. military's 3,200 kcal ration standard with meat alone, each person would need to eat about 400 grams per meal. With the company plus Winter's group totaling eighty men, the captain's 100 kilograms included a slight buffer for a full day's rations.
Hunting near campsites en route to Yuba City was possible, but the captain seemed to be planning for no resupply. Preparing for the worst was a commander's duty.
Winter stood at attention and replied.
"Once I get familiar with the terrain, I can manage more than double that."
The captain let out a hollow chuckle.
"I suppose I have to believe you this time. It's too important for future planning not to confirm. What's the basis for that judgment?"
"Yes. As you've probably heard, this area's less affected by the variants. In mountains and forests this vast, there should normally be hundreds of deer alone. I just don't know their migration paths yet. Find one big herd, and I could hit five days' worth in a single day."
"Five days' worth in one day?"
Winter nodded to the intrigued captain.
"Once we've got that buffer, I'll gather edible mushrooms and plants too. I skipped them today to save time, but I spotted some on the way back. Common ones that aren't easily confused with poisonous varieties."
Asparagus, black mustard, apricot mushrooms, and the like. Things he could safely identify without skill bonuses. It was still early summer, so options were limited. But if he found a patch of any, it'd be plenty to supplement their staples. The goal was nutritional balance.
If he acquired the skill 「Gathering」, still unlearned, it'd be far easier.
But it was a white elephant. Not just now, but in every apocalypse he'd survived so far. By calories per time invested, gathering couldn't beat hunting. Nor was it as versatile as 「Tracking」. Low priority meant few points invested. Which meant almost no 「Talent Advantage」.
A skill you end up ignoring more and more.
And it wasn't the only one. 「Talent Advantage」 locked in your growth path. Winter sometimes regretted the other possibilities. But they were all hard to pick up when survival was desperate. In the world of the uninsured poor, across all afterlives, it was a continuous struggle in some sense.
"I see."
The captain sighed shortly.
"It'll be tough, but give it your best. At least we don't have to worry about starving to death. Otherwise, the company's mental state would be a mess by now. Did you see? Their faces lit up during dinner—better than expected. Too soon to relax, though."
Tonight was the crux. The first night outside the base. Physical crisis passed, now the mental one hits. No soldier had made it through the base's fall without losing comrades, so suicides were possible. Human life is unpredictable. No one drops easily.
But that first one changes everything.
Even if slim odds, a commander had to guard against it.
"Distributing booze now would be iffy... Ice cream would be nice, though."
Ice cream? Winter tilted his head at the mutter, and the captain smiled faintly.
"You don't know, huh? Makes sense—you wouldn't have heard. No formal training either."
He continued.
"It's from World War II. When the carrier Lexington was torpedoed, even as she sank, the crew pulled out ice cream and ate it. 'Ship's going down, might as well not waste it.' Over 200 sailors died that day. They endured the fear by shoveling ice cream."
Only to regret it fiercely once they hit the water.
"Funny how simple life is, right? As long as there's some small pleasure left, people don't think of death easily. A loved one works, or even ice cream sometimes."
That was why, during the day, the captain had platoons take turns river hunting. Really just an excuse to wash up and play in the water. Hygiene was critical. And to mask their scent for emergencies. While at it, they'd cut barbed wire and strung it across upstream and downstream in case something weird floated under.
Winter deeply agreed.
"Do you have something like that, Captain?"
"I left letters at the base—regret that. But maybe it's for the best."
Seeing them now would make him cry. The captain was one who'd lost comrades too. Duty kept him going.
"When there's time, I'll teach the company basic horsemanship. It'll be a novel, fun experience. At least while riding, they won't think of other things."
「Instruction」 synergizes more with higher skill grades. It could build basics across the company in short order.
'Plenty of ranches along the route—might snag more horses en route.'
He wasn't aiming for mounted combat prowess. Even one platoon of cavalry would expand tactical options. Prep for after Yuba City too. No guarantee things were rosy there. A rally point for hundreds of thousands with cut supplies.
"Didn't call you just for that."
The captain smiled faintly.
"No issues making preserved rations?"
"Yes. Lucky we found pink salt. Without it, we'd need tons of regular salt. Enough to drain the color and springiness from the meat."
They'd just discussed the joy of fresh eating. Salt-cured meat alone turns rock-white and hard. Rinse and boil thick to make it edible, but flavor disappoints.
Winter's pink salt contained nitrites. Mix with regular salt, and less is needed to halt botulism growth. Especially botulinum—eat it, and you're dead.
They'd found it at the ranch, as expected. Livestock place, families often made their own. Rare in average homes.
'Without it, wild celery at least.'
Ferment celery juice with salt for pink salt substitute. Spinach works too if desperate. Basic survival know-how.
Of course, that would've forced plan changes. Fermentation takes time.
Above all, Winter had no hands-on experience. Just head knowledge. Nitrites are toxic—ratios tricky, unsure.
"Sliced the meat small to speed brining and drying. For later hauls, we'll figure mobile curing en route, but at least three days' worth will be ready before we move. We can time consumption too."
Worst case, just needs to last a fortnight.
The captain was amused.
"You know all sorts of things. Like you prepped for this. Prepper before Morgellons?"
"...Something like that."
Preppers. Hobbyists stocking for disasters, learning lore. Common in America. Zombie apocalypses a fave scenario.
Hence civilians calling infected variants zombies.
'Gov hates it.'
Authorities don't like framing plague as supernatural. Thought is linguistic. Why military speech is policed.
"Let's leave it there."
The captain shifted topics.
"Met with the FBI overseer today. About that thing you mentioned before. She brought it up—Gibson agent."
He leaned back, showing fatigue.
"From my view, it's like another world. Rogue faction in Intel... "
"How much did you hear?"
"She didn't give details. Classified. Figures. I'm just a captain."
He sighed, tone shifting.
"But they pulled some major screw-up without gov approval. That's enough. In this mess, CIA-level agency off-leash? Soldier's nightmare. Can't win if your back's itching. Unnerving."
Muttered: Just surviving and RTB is burden enough.
"Intel folks stay under you and the FBI overseer. Tell 'em if you need anything. Help max within limits."
"Thank you."
"That's all."
Langford rose slowly. His turn to crash.
"Before rest, see Agent Talbot. She'll fix your... camouflage?... face issue anyway."
"Ah, yes."
Captain had looked into it himself. Remembered the tech mention.
Made sense. Knew it was Han Gyeowol in head, but different face undercut morale impact. Good for unit spirit.
As directed, Talbot had a simple setup: household cleaners mixed.
"Might wonder what this is, but it has all needed components. Just dilute, so scrub long."
Same ingredients, different labels. Mix cleaners for gas, fertilizer for bombs. Fertilizer plants turn ammo in war.
Long scrub faded face dye.
Original look returned after ages.