WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 203: Survivors (6)
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The butchering was done by the water.
Skinning, separating blood vessels and tendons, washing away the blood, trimming meat from bone. The scraped-out organs were gathered in a separate container for nutritional balance.
“Ooh, jeez.”
The people watching groaned softly. Some of the enlisted soldiers could barely stand to look at the dark red, slippery organs. It was the same kind of reaction as seeing fireworks and being reminded of a gunfight.
Captain Langford made as many people as possible watch the butchering. The official reason was for them to observe and learn, but his real intent lay elsewhere. As a commander, it was only natural to keep an eye on his soldiers’ mental state. He needed them to see for themselves that something was being accomplished.
Langford also believed that leading by example worked best when people could clearly see it.
In the end, they got 140 kilograms of meat. Add in the cooking oil, flour, sugar, and other supplies taken from the houses, and they had secured enough quality food for the whole Company to eat for more than two days.
After lunch, Gyeoul rested for about six hours. After dinner, Langford summoned him.
Sunset had passed, but the temporary command post was not as dark as expected. They were drawing electricity from solar panels brought in from private homes. The others had not been sitting around either.
“You worked hard today. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting much, but you’ve taken a huge weight off my shoulders.”
Langford, who had regained some of his composure since dawn, told him what had been decided.
“After discussing it with the platoon leaders, we’ve decided to accept your suggestion. Staying here for a few days is a burden, but... considering the distance left to Yuba City, this is probably the time to make haste slowly (Make haste slowly). Captain Harris ended up the way he did because he was hungry too, after all.”
Captain Harris. It was a name Gyeoul had not heard in a while. The man had killed civilians after a conflict over food, then chased survivors all the way to Santa Margarita Lake. He had probably died to the mutants.
The Department of Defense had not covered up the incident. By now, it had become the most famous battle Gyeoul had fought. It had been dramatic in several ways. The baby born that day had also drawn nationwide attention.
“I called you because I want to set a concrete goal first. The judgment of the person actually doing it matters. For the next five days, can you stockpile 100 kilograms a day? I know it sounds like a somewhat unreasonable request, but if it’s less than that, staying here starts to lose its meaning.”
If they tried to meet the U.S. military meal standard calories of 3,200 kcal purely with meat, each person would need to eat 400 grams per meal. With Gyeoul’s group added to the Company’s troops, there were eighty people, so the 100 kilograms Captain Langford mentioned was roughly one day’s worth of food with a little extra.
They would likely be able to hunt near their campsites on the way to Yuba City as well, but the captain seemed to be assuming there would be no additional supplies. Preparing for the worst was a commander’s duty.
Gyeoul answered with proper posture.
“Once I learn the terrain, I can do more than twice that.”
The captain let out a disbelieving laugh.
“This time, I suppose I should say I believe you, but since this will affect our future plans, I have to confirm it. What are you basing that judgment on?”
“Yes. You’ve probably already heard, but this area seems to have been less affected by mutants. With mountains and forests this broad, there should normally be several hundred deer alone. I just don’t know their paths well yet. If I find one large herd, I may be able to meet the five-day goal in a single day.”
“Five days’ worth in one day?”
Gyeoul nodded to the interested captain.
“Once we have that much breathing room, I also plan to gather edible mushrooms and plants. I skipped them today to save time, but I saw them here and there on the way back. Common ones that aren’t easily confused with poisonous plants.”
Asparagus, black mustard, chanterelles, and so on. Things he could safely gather even without skill correction. There were not many varieties yet, since summer had not arrived. But if he found even one good patch, it would be enough to supplement their staple food. The goal was nutritional balance.
If he had the skill he had not yet learned, 「Foraging」, it would be much easier.
But it was hardly worth the investment. Not just now, but in every apocalypse he had passed through so far. In terms of calories gained per time spent, foraging could not surpass hunting. It was not as versatile as 「Tracking」 either. Since its priority was low, he had learned it only a few times. That meant he had almost no 「Talent Benefit」 in it.
In the end, it was a skill he used less and less as time went on.
That was not all. 「Talent Benefit」 locked in the direction of growth. Sometimes, Gyeoul regretted the other possibilities. But every one of them was hard to learn when survival was desperate. Across all of Afterlife Insurance, the world of a subscriber who was not wealthy could only be a continuous struggle in one form or another.
“I see.”
The captain let out a short sigh.
“It’ll be hard, but do your best. It’s a relief that we don’t have to worry about starving to death. Otherwise, the Company members’ mental state would be a real mess by now. Did you see them? Maybe because the meal was better than expected, their faces were bright while they ate. Though it’s too early to relax.”
Tonight was the critical point. Their first night outside the base. The mental crisis that came only after they had survived the physical one. Since not one soldier had avoided losing comrades when the base fell, there was a chance of suicides. Of course, human life was stubborn. No one died easily.
But the first one would change many things.
Even if it was only a small possibility, a commander had to stay alert to it.
“I can’t exactly hand out alcohol right now... It would be nice if we had ice cream, at least.”
Ice cream? When Gyeoul tilted his head at the mutter that sounded almost like he was talking to himself, the captain smiled faintly.
“Looks like you don’t know. Well, I suppose you wouldn’t have had the chance to hear it. You never received formal training either.”
He continued.
“It’s a story from World War II. When the aircraft carrier Lexington was hit by torpedoes, the sailors supposedly took out ice cream and ate it even while the ship was sinking. They said it would all go to waste once the ship went down anyway. More than 200 crewmen died that day. Everyone endured their fear while scooping up ice cream.”
Afterward, once they ended up in the water, they regretted it terribly.
“It’s nothing new, but isn’t life surprisingly simple? People who still have even a small pleasure left don’t think about death so easily. It can be someone they love, or sometimes even something like ice cream.”
That must have been why. During the day, the captain had each platoon take turns fishing and splashing around in the stream. In truth, he simply meant for them to wash up and play in the water. Hygiene mattered that much, and they needed to remove body odor in case anything happened. In case something strange drifted in underwater while they were at it, they had cut up wire mesh and hung it upstream and downstream.
Gyeoul deeply empathized.
“Do you have something like that, Captain?”
“I regret leaving my letters behind at the base. But maybe it was better that way. If I saw them now, I think I’d cry.”
The captain, too, was one of the people who had lost comrades. He was enduring only through his sense of responsibility.
“When there’s spare time, I’ll teach the Company members horseback riding. It should be an unusual and enjoyable experience. At the very least, it’ll be hard for them to think about anything else while they’re riding.”
「Instruction」 produced even greater synergy when the skill being taught was high grade. If he could make use of that, he would be able to give the whole Company the basics in a short time.
‘There are a lot of ranches along the route, so we might secure more horses on the way.’
He was not hoping for mounted combat ability. Even one platoon of mounted infantry would greatly increase their tactical options. It was also preparation for after they reached Yuba City. There was no guarantee the situation there would be good. Was it not one of the regrouping points for hundreds of thousands of people cut off from supplies?
“This wasn’t what I called you here to talk about.”
The captain smiled faintly.
“Will there be any problem making preserved food?”
“No. It was fortunate we had pink salt. If we hadn’t gotten this, we would’ve needed to use a huge amount of salt. Enough that the meat would lose its color and springiness.”
They had just been talking about how important the pleasure of eating was. Salted meat made with nothing but salt turned into something like a white stone. The texture was similar to stone too. It became somewhat edible if washed with water and boiled for a long time, but the taste was worse than anything one might expect.
The pink salt Gyeoul mentioned was salt containing nitrite. When mixed with ordinary salt, it prevented food poisoning bacteria from growing even in relatively small amounts. Especially botulinum bacteria. If you ate that, you should assume you would die.
The place where they had found it was, again, a ranch. Since it had raised cattle and horses, it made sense for it to be there. Families making their own food that way was fairly common. It was rare in ordinary homes.
‘If we didn’t have it, I would’ve had to look for wild celery.’
If celery juice was squeezed out, mixed with salt, and fermented, it became a substitute for pink salt. If even that was unavailable, spinach would do. It was basic knowledge needed for survival.
Of course, if they had gone that route, he would have needed to revise the plan significantly. Making fermented salt took time.
Most of all, even Gyeoul had no hands-on experience with that method. He only knew it in theory. Nitrite was also toxic, so the ratio had to be adjusted properly, and he was not confident in that.
“I cut the meat small to shorten the curing and drying time. For the meat we secure later, we’ll have to find a way to cure it while moving, but at least three days’ worth will be finished before we depart. We can also adjust when we eat it.”
It only needed to last about fifteen days at most without spoiling anyway.
The captain looked amused.
“You know all sorts of things. Almost like you prepared for this exact situation. Were you a survivalist even before the Morgellons outbreak, by any chance?”
“...Something like that.”
A survivalist. Someone who prepared for disaster scenarios and learned related knowledge as a hobby. They were fairly common in America. One of the disasters they often prepared for was the zombie apocalypse.
Maybe that was why he had heard that many civilians called mutants zombies.
‘The government dislikes it, though.’
From the authorities’ perspective, there was no way they would welcome a mood that described a plague as something supernatural. Human thought was linguistic. That was why soldiers’ word choice was strictly controlled.
“Let’s leave that topic there.”
The captain changed the subject.
“I had a meeting with the FBI supervisor during the day. About that matter you mentioned before. It had been bothering me anyway, and Agent Gibson requested it first.”
He leaned against the backrest, showing a little fatigue.
“Well, for someone like me, it felt like something from another world. A private organization formed inside an intelligence agency...”
“How much did you hear?”
“She didn’t tell me the exact circumstances either. She said confidentiality was required. Of course it would be. I’m only a mere captain.”
He sighed, and his tone shifted.
“But she did tell me one thing. They caused some major incident without government approval. That alone is enough. It means an agency as large as the Central Intelligence Agency is outside control in times like this. As a soldier, I don’t like it. If you’re uneasy about what’s behind you, you can lose a fight you should’ve won. It makes me anxious for no good reason.”
Then he muttered that surviving and making it back alone was already burdensome enough.
“I plan to keep the Intelligence Agency personnel under your and the Bureau supervisor’s jurisdiction going forward. If you need anything, tell me as it comes up. I’ll help as much as I can within my authority.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s all I called you for.”
Langford slowly rose from his seat. It was about time for him to get some sleep too.
“Before you go rest, meet Agent Talbot. They said they’d solve that... disguise? Anyway, that face problem of yours.”
“Ah, yes.”
It looked like the captain had checked on it himself. He seemed to have remembered Gyeoul saying there was a technician.
The reason was easy to guess too. Even if the soldiers knew in their heads that he was Han Gyeoul, if he looked different, it would not feel real to them. It would help refresh the mood.
When he went as the captain told him, what Talbot had prepared was surprisingly simple. A mixture of various cleaning products that could be found in any ordinary home.
“You might wonder what this is, but it has all the necessary ingredients. The concentration is low, so you’ll have to wash for quite a while.”
They were the same components, simply used for different purposes and given different names. Wasn’t poison gas made by mixing cleaning products, and bombs manufactured from fertilizer? Fertilizer factories were converted into gunpowder production plants in wartime.
As the washing dragged on, the dye in his face came out.
It had been a long time since he had regained his original appearance.
============================ Author’s Note ============================
#Event
As I announced before, I’m doing this one last time before the first shipment. I’ll send a signed book to one person among those who leave a comment. The condition is the same as last time. Recommendations can’t be fewer than comments. :)
Those who don’t need it, please make sure to say so.
If there are too many comments, it may close early.
Addition: I will close it as of 10 a.m. on April 12.
#Bayonet
The term translated here as Bayonet does not mean “greatsword,” but “belt-sword.” It means a sword worn at the waist, and it is another word for a bayonet. It can be detached, so it is normally used like a dagger. I’ll attach an image to the work settings.
#Deer
The hunting ground mentioned in the story is the mountainous area southeast of Point Reyes National Seashore. The deer population there is not something I confirmed as exact fact, but something I inferred through comparison with other regions.
I’ll upload information on California deer hunting zones to the work settings.
#Ice Cream
The U.S. Navy operated a floating ice cream factory during World War II. It was the first ship of the Trefoil class, USS Trefoil, and after it was converted into a factory, its name was changed to USS Quartz.
#Q&A
Q. Fuyuka-nim: Aren’t pigs dangerous too, since they’re omnivores?
A. Yes, I revised it. Thank you. I wrote it while thinking of feral domestic pigs, swine, rather than wild boars, but after seeing your comment, I looked it up just in case, and it seems those aren’t okay either. Though I’m not certain.
Q. JadeSeoran-nim: @It seems the scene in the middle where they tracked pig droppings hasn’t been revised.
A. I finished revising it. T_T
Q. LunarKarma-nim: @It’d be nice if Xcel stayed with him as a pet from now on... Looking at the protagonist, it feels like it’d be good if his mobility were supplemented... and if he could carry plenty of ammo too, since he’s always short and has to use it sparingly...
A. As for Xcel, I think you’ll be satisfied with the later developments. Ammo... well.
Q. FlyingDori-nim: @Aaaah... It feels like I starved for three days and someone tossed me one really delicious triangle kimbap. T_T Author-nim, stay strong~!
A. If I had uploaded a little earlier, you would have seen this far. That’s a shame.
Footnotes:
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