By Zephyria 
60
Tae-muk continued as if nothing had happened.
“I knew people lived there, but that doesn’t mean the Crimson Rain Brigade could protect them. We can’t just stay here forever.”
“I suppose not.”
“Still, I checked in on them from time to time, and every time I went, there were a dozen or so different people.”
“……”
“Over three years, more than a hundred people died and were replaced.”
Ho-eun briefly stopped breathing. Being replaced meant someone had died, and another ‘lowly one’ had come to take their place. A hundred replacements meant a hundred deaths.
The deaths were tragic, but Ho-eun couldn’t even begin to imagine how the others who had to till the fields every day felt. How deep their fear and despair must have been… To live like that and ultimately face annihilation was too cruel.
“Did… did that nobleman force those people to go?”
Tae-muk scoffed at Ho-eun’s cautious question.
“What else? Do you think they volunteered to go?”
“……”
“What madman wants to die planting potatoes and sweet potatoes?”
“……”
He was right. There were those who stole from the peddlers outside the town, but at least that was their choice. But not those villagers. They must have been driven out. They must have grabbed the nobleman’s ankles, begging him not to send them, saying they didn’t want to go, pleading for their lives.
Ho-eun felt ashamed for even asking such a question.
Ho-eun bit his lower lip and lowered his head. Tae-muk murmured in a hollow voice.
“Still… when we were there, the deaths were limited to a dozen or so.”
“……”
“Of all times for us to be away, that troublesome Devouring Ghoul had to come…”
He frowned slightly, recalling the Devouring Ghoul with the unusually large antennae. Ho-eun’s head drooped even lower. It was all his fault that Tae-muk ‘happened to be away,’ and that their return was delayed.
If he hadn’t asked for a day’s delay in departing from Hanyang, if he hadn’t been sick and slowed them down… He was thinking such things when.
“At least that bastard died with them.”
Tae-muk twisted one corner of his mouth crookedly. He clenched his fist, as if recalling the moment he killed the nobleman. At those words, Ho-eun asked sharply.
“Why was that nobleman there?”
“He came to check, of course.”
“Check?”
“Yeah. They weren’t sending crops, and he couldn’t get in touch, so he probably thought those lowly ones had dared to steal his things and run away.”
“……He risked his life to go all the way there for that?”
“Noblemen never trust what others say. They live in lies every day, so they think everyone else does too. That’s why they only believe what they see with their own eyes.”
“……”
“That distrust cut off his own legs. It was karma. Don’t you think?”
Tae-muk sought Ho-eun’s agreement. His tone was almost like he was making sure. Do you also think the nobleman’s death was justified? Do you feel a sense of satisfaction about it?
“……”
But Ho-eun didn’t notice. He was not in front of Tae-muk now, but in that village.
He had wondered why the thatched-roof houses were so shabby even though they were farming on fertile land. He had wondered why the fences were so crude. He had wondered why only the nobleman was alive. There was an unimaginable reason.
Ho-eun’s eyebrows drooped as he recalled the countless clothes tangled in the bloody water and the small straw shoes scattered on the ground. Then, he muttered something that was unclear whether he was saying it to Tae-muk or to himself.
“……The General didn’t kill a person.”
It was a monster worse than a Devouring Ghoul.
Ho-eun sighed again. His heart felt heavy thinking about the precious lives that had disappeared without meaning. It felt like a stone was stuck in his chest. He stroked his chest, which was throbbing with pain.
“Do you really think so?”
Tae-muk asked. Ho-eun, who had been in a daze, looked at him a beat later.
“……Yes?”
“You think I didn’t kill a person?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“A person shouldn’t do such a thing to another person. But since he did such a thing, that nobleman is no longer a person.”
Ho-eun answered clearly without the slightest hesitation. There was not a hint of falsehood on his neat face. Tae-muk stared intently at Ho-eun, who asked cautiously.
“Anyway, since that nobleman is dead, no one will be dragged to that village to die in vain anymore, right? That’s a relief.”
“Who knows? Maybe someone else will have the same idea.”
“……”
“Maybe it’s already happening.”
At Tae-muk’s overly cynical yet realistic words, Ho-eun’s eyebrows slid down. He was right. There was no guarantee that there weren’t other villages like that. As Tae-muk said, it might already be happening, and far more people might have died than in that village.
“……”
Ho-eun’s face was consumed by gloom.
He had read the newspapers every day in the capital, but he had never seen an article like this. Outside the capital, things were happening that Ho-eun couldn’t even begin to fathom.
The days ahead would not be easy.
Ho-eun sighed deeply, sensing this. He swept his hair back. But at that moment.
“Chilbok is coming in.”
Tae-muk said. Ho-eun’s eyebrows rose at the sudden words. Had Chilbok announced his presence just now? He didn’t hear it. Did Tae-muk mishear something? He tilted his head in confusion. Indeed, Chilbok appeared, pushing aside the tent flap.
He was carrying a wide, shallow table. His hands, gripping the seemingly heavy table, were quite firm.
Ho-eun’s face immediately lit up. He didn’t know why he liked Chilbok so much. Was it because he was young, because he treated him well, or because he was about the same age as his nephews, the children of his older brothers? He kept feeling drawn to him.
“Chilbok, hello.”
Ho-eun waved slightly and greeted him. Chilbok’s face softened.
“Young Master……”
He looked at Ho-eun with all sorts of worries, asking if he was okay, if he was in pain, if he was all better now. Ho-eun answered with a smile. Chilbok smiled sheepishly. Then, he suddenly stiffened as if he had been splashed with cold water.
Chilbok knelt down, placed the table down, and stared intently at Tae-muk. He stared intently while removing the tablecloth covering the table, stared intently while straightening the scattered dishes, stared intently while arranging the spoons, and stared intently again while getting up. It was quite a burdensome gaze.
Whether he didn’t feel the gaze or was pretending not to notice, Tae-muk simply stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray without saying anything.
“I’ll enjoy the meal, Chilbok. Thank you.”
Ho-eun thanked him without even looking at the food. At that, Chilbok smiled brightly, as if he had never stiffened his expression.
“Yes. Please tell me if you need anything.”
Then, he looked at Tae-muk, his expression turning cold again.
“As for the Captain… say something… or don’t…”
Tae-muk scoffed at that. He seemed dumbfounded. Ho-eun looked at Chilbok with a puzzled expression. He seemed to like Tae-muk very much. Why was the boy who used to hide fried eggs in his rice acting like this?
Chilbok bowed once to Tae-muk and once to Ho-eun, then left the tent.
Ho-eun belatedly examined the table. A whole chicken was placed in a large earthenware bowl. It was baeksuk, made by simmering chicken and rice together. It looked soft at first glance, as the meat and bones were almost separated, as if it had been cooked for a long time. And it also contained jujubes, ginkgo nuts, and chestnuts.
It was a carefully prepared meal. It was definitely a precious meal, even if it wasn’t limited to the battlefield.
“Eat.”
Tae-muk gestured towards the table with his chin. Ho-eun stared at the spoon placed in front of Tae-muk and replied.
“Please eat first.”
“I’m fine.”
Ho-eun made a sound in his throat. Judging from the two sets of spoons, it seemed like he was supposed to eat together. He wondered what to do, but decided to eat first. It wouldn’t be polite to Chilbok to let the precious food get cold.
“Then… I’ll take the first bite.”
“……”
Tae-muk didn’t answer. Ho-eun took it as permission in the silence and picked up his spoon. He was getting a little used to Tae-muk’s silence now. It was almost easier since he could interpret the meaning as he pleased.
Ho-eun set aside all the plump meat and scooped up a spoonful of the swollen, porridge-like rice. Then, he blew on it, which was steaming, and put it in his mouth.
His brow furrowed in satisfaction at the smooth, warm porridge. It was seasoned just right, savory, and had the oily taste of meat. It was the perfect meal for Ho-eun, who had been sick for five days straight.
Ho-eun immediately took a second spoonful and asked.
“Did you perhaps fight with Chilbok?”
At those words, Tae-muk’s jaw dropped with an expression as if he had never heard such a strange thing in his life.
“Who? Me? With him? How?”
He pointed to the tent door where Chilbok had left with his thumb. He looked genuinely dumbfounded.
“……Right. It doesn’t make sense.”
Ho-eun nodded in agreement. Then, if they didn’t fight, why did Chilbok look at him like that? Ho-eun leisurely pondered as he brought the spoon to his mouth. Then, he chewed on the porridge, which didn’t even need to be chewed.