Back at Base: Fried Chicken and Beer with the Goddess
When I crossed through the military headquarters' dimensional gate after the operation, Gobert's dedicated adjutant was waiting for me. Gobert was probably swamped dealing with the aftermath of what I'd done, and as for the rest... well, it was best not to get tangled up with special agents anyway, so it made sense they weren't showing their faces.
"Welcome, Special Agent. I'll escort you to your quarters."
"Thanks. I was hoping to soak in some hot water anyway."
"The bath is already prepared. This way, please."
I followed the adjutant toward the headquarters' annex. The day was bitterly cold, so the adjutant and I hurried along, our breaths puffing out like chimney smoke.
The guest room in the headquarters annex was ridiculously luxurious—our inn's single rooms couldn't even compare. I wondered why a military base had hotel-level accommodations, but thinking about it, it wasn't that strange. Not everyone visiting military HQ was a soldier; high officials from the capital, or even the king or other royals on "inspection" tours if their luck was bad, might show up. They had to have a room or two like this for such occasions. You couldn't just stick VIPs in the barracks, no matter how military it was.
In that sense, I was receiving VIP treatment right now. Considering what I'd done, it wasn't overthe top, though.
"Rest well, Special Agent."
"Ah, wait. Adjutant. Sorry about this..."
The adjutant, about to close the door, turned back.
"I'm starving... any chance of fried chicken?"
"Of course. And ice-cold beer to go with it?"
"You know your stuff. Thanks."
Once the adjutant left, I headed straight to the attached bathroom. It had long ventilation slits near the ceiling, marble floors for that ultra-luxurious feel, silver candelabras lighting up the space brightly, a steaming round tub, and all the toiletries lined up beside it.
I hung my clothes on the rack, slipped into the tub, and let out an involuntary groan.
"Ahhh... this is the life..."
Settling in with just my head above water, I reflected on recent events. I'd helped Gobert out, but this wasn't a small matter. They'd lost three forward outposts, a major infiltration point, tunnel positions, and even a large unit assembling for a show of force. All in just a few hours.
From Bakomor's perspective, it was a devastating blow—serious enough to make them foam at the mouth and see red. A clear military provocation. Unless they were insane, Bakomor would retaliate. They'd force it through no matter what. Staying quiet would send the wrong signal to our kingdom: 'We can tolerate this much,' or 'Truth is, after a hit like that, we don't have the strength to counterattack.'
Could Gobert handle the retaliation that followed? He probably could. Tonight's events would ensure the generals obeyed him without question. The once-quiet prince had slammed the table, declared he'd handle the long-unsolved issues, and just like that, everything was resolved like magic.
Before, Gobert might have lacked confidence in his position, but after today, that was over. From tomorrow, anyone defying or twisting his orders would face military law.
I'd cleared three headaches in the Lucia region and bolstered the commander's prestige, so Gobert's side was secure. No need for me to worry—he'd handle it. Big bro was sorted; now for the snake of a little sister...
Clearing up the misunderstanding with Gobert right away seemed tricky. Elua was smart but not right in the head, with her obsessions veering into weird territory. Just mentioning that Gobert killed their dad would set off a storm. No point explaining the circumstances—she wouldn't listen. Better to shelve that and avoid stirring up trouble.
So, improve relations with Gobert later. Instead, solve Elua's immediate problems. But the noble council was nothing like Bakomor. You could pound Bakomor like a punching bag without much issue—in fact, it was better to hit hard. The nobles, though... swinging wildly would just make things worse.
The noble council issue couldn't be solved with brute force. Dialogue without violence was best against them. Leave it to the capital's experts. As long as Elua didn't go off the rails with her crazy antics.
For now, visit the capital regularly, gauge the atmosphere, and step in if things got too heated there. That seemed smartest.
After washing up and stepping out, a wave of warm air hit me. Someone—a servant, probably—had been in; the fireplace crackled pleasantly with fresh logs, and on the table sat mouthwatering fried chicken and beer.
Worth all the effort coming here. I roughly toweled my hair and sank into the armchair by the fire, stretching my legs toward the flames and grabbing a piece.
Chunks of chicken coated in flour and spices, deep-fried whole—perfect with beer. Time to test the military chef's skills.
One crunchy bite, and spicy aroma burst from the crispy batter with hot oil. Inside, tender, well-cooked meat oozed savory juices... Mmm... this is it...
Chewing a mouthful, I lifted the beer mug, beads of condensation on its surface. Bubbles rising just right, popping satisfyingly—proper brew.
Alright... calm down the excitement... and drink.
The throat-tingling chill mingled with the salty chicken in an insanely perfect symphony of flavors.
Ah, this is paradise... heaven itself...
"Looks tasty, huh?"
The sudden voice made me cough and whirl around. A stunning platinum blonde sat cross-legged on the bed, smiling.
"Goddess...?"
"Bet it is."
"Join me. Wait, no—why are you here?"
The Goddess pouted dramatically.
"Don't want me here?"
"It's not that, but you always pop up at the weirdest times and places. Anyway, come on."
She plopped into the chair opposite, snagging a piece.
"Hoo... So this is human fried food."
One bite, and her eyes went wide as she stared at me.
"What is this? Why's it so good...?"
"Even better with beer."
She snatched my mug and took a swig, then shuddered, eyes closing.
"Haaah... Oh my god..."
You're the god here...
"Whoa... I had no idea... flavors like this existed...?"
She stripped the chicken clean to the bone and grabbed another.
"Bertrand. Too good. First time for me, something like this."
"Tip the chef a gold coin, then."
No sooner said than a ecstatic scream echoed from far down the hall. Already done. Quick work.
"Mmm. No more beer."
Having drained it all, she reached into thin air. A tiny dimensional gate appeared, and she pulled out several mugs, setting them on the table.
"You stole from the kitchen...?"
"Gave gold. Not stealing."
"Right... Ah, grab more chicken if there's any left. This might not be enough for two."
"Got it. One sec."
Frowning slightly, she rummaged through the gate and hauled out another basket. Gate closed; she surveyed the beer and chicken with satisfaction.
"Dig in, Bertrand."
"Help yourself, Goddess. But seriously, why'd you come? Not just for the chicken, right?"
"Hehe. To see you?"
"I think, Goddess, you always say that but bring something important."
She grinned cutely and picked up a drumstick.
"Hey. Dip this in salt—bet it'd be good."
"Huh? It's already nicely seasoned. More salt?"
"No, trust me. Wait."
Opening another gate, she pulled out a small dish of salt.
"Try it."
She dipped the crispy skin, took a big bite. Looked salty just watching...
"Ugh...!"
She chugged beer frantically. Setting the mug down, her face beamed with utter bliss.
"Seriously... please try it with salt. Begging you, Bertrand."
"Kinda seems too salty..."
But I did as told—and ended up with the same ecstatic look.
"Gotta add this to the inn menu..."
"Hehe. Right? Heavenly, even for the skies."
"If it wowed you, who am I to argue."
We happily devoured the beer-soaked chicken.
"By the way, Bertrand."
Licking her fingers clean, she grabbed another piece and spoke.
"About Elua."