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Now reading: Chapter 89 : Father (5) from Surviving on the Northern Front with Gukbap, a Action novel by Divinity.

Father (5)

I have been doing voice impressions as a hobby since high school.

"We have here Han Chul Lee, the master of knife skills who has been wielding knives for sixteen years! Have you ever made soup rice? If you haven't, don't even speak."

"Wahahaha!"

Then, one day,

the horoom teacher told not to just do that at my desk but to co up and perform in front of everyone.

At that mont, I realized acutely.

'When the stage is set, humans as a species naturally shrink back!'

Based on this psychological theory, I pressured Naba.

"Naba! Co on!!"

Naba looked between the adventurer and with shaking eyes.

Now, Naba had to choose between two options.

He could either imdiately kill the adventurer, swayed by the flow I laid out for him,

or, following human instincts, refuse to play the part laid out for him.

'Either way, it works out for .'

If he kills the adventurer right away, his emotions will calm and the demonic transformation will stop;

if he doesn't kill him, it's good too, since I won't have to stain the kid's hands with blood.

As expected, the black energy around Naba began to subside.

Uh, hmm.

At least, that's how it was a mont ago,

"Mom? No, why...ugh!"

Suddenly, Naba clutched his head in pain,

muttering quietly, and then said in a low voice,

"I'm sorry, boss. This ti, I can't follow your orders. This bastard shouldn't just die easily."

Soon even the fading black energy began to swell again.

The tension was so intense that my throat went dry.

"Boss. Sothing's wrong."

"I know."

Sothing appeared to be interfering with Naba's mind.

Once more, the kid's gaze was being engulfed in darkness.

'But I have no way to deal with whatever is ddling with Naba's mind.'

If there were, Plerine would have already stepped up and handled it.

So then, my role remains unchanged.

'I have to keep talking so Naba can co to his senses.'

I have to choose the right words to snap Naba back to reason,

so he can't hear the voice digging through his mind!

"Happiness Gukbap's employee number 1, Naba."

"......?"

"Whether you tornt him before killing him or just kill him outright, the result is the sa. Even if you tornt him to death, your mother won't be any happier. So just kill him and end it."

I spoke gently, careful not to provoke Naba,

and Naba, too, replied in a flat, emotionless voice.

"You don't know, boss. How much I've suffered since my mother died..."

Tears soon fell from beneath Naba's face.

Thick, sticky, blood-red drops. Drip. Drip.

"Can you even imagine! Having to just watch your only family die? That helpless feeling, and the pain!!"

The piercing shout nearly made my face twist, but I barely kept my composure.

'Now he's even disregarding the boss's experience. That cocky brat.'

Before I realized it, Naba's pupils had turned completely black as he spoke, almost sobbing.

"I'm going to tornt him as much as possible before killing him. Just as much as I suffered."

Naba's black aura crept up his sword.

Finally, Plerine couldn't hold back and stepped forward again.

"Plerine. Just a mont."

Even at my call, Plerine channelled her mana.

"If you're going to do sothing, do it quickly. If it seems hopeless, I'll step in imdiately."

Damn it. This really was a hair-trigger situation.

I had to pick the right words to calm Naba down.

'In the end, do I have to bring up my own story?'

... Yeah. Now, as the boss, appearances don't matter. I have to get my subordinate under control first.

I decided to lay it all down and opened my mouth.

"Naba. Did you think this boss was giving advice without knowing the pain of losing family?"

As my pride, which had been caught in my throat, disappeared, a gentle voice ca out,

and fortunately, it seed to reach Naba.

The black energy stretching from his sword quietly faded.

"Huh? What do you an?"

At last, Naba showed interest in .

Ti to press forward.

"I'll tell you why I saved you when you were dying out there on the street."

For the first ti in a long, long while,

I felt it was ti to share the childhood story I had kept bottled up for so long.

*

The first ti I grabbed a kitchen knife was at age 14.

Seven years before that,

when I was 7 years old, I said,

"Dad, I want to be a soccer player!"

Before I entered elentary school, I changed my dream every day.

Police officer, scientist, celebrity, president, and so on.

'Father' would always add a comnt whenever I did this.

"Don't you want to be a cool chef like ?"

I answered emphatically.

"I hate chefs the most!"

Whenever I answered like that, my father would give a bitter smile.

But there was a good reason for such a childish answer.

'Chefs are too busy.'

My dad, who raised alone, was so busy he barely had ti to play with .

He ran the restaurant without any staff and never took a day off.

So I had to wait for him, reading books in the corner of the shop.

That's why I started to throw tantrums at so point.

"I want to go on a picnic with Dad too!"

Every single day, I pleaded to play with him in the shop.

But who was it that instilled such persistence and stubbornness in ?

Of course—it was Dad.

"Han Chul Lee! Can't you see Dad is working?"

Back then, dad couldn't take a single day off.

There was the IMF financial crisis, and debts from Mom's hospital bills to pay off after she died.

But at that age, I was too young to understand any of this.

In the end, I burst into tears and ran out of the shop.

"Dad, I hate you!"

Even if it was like that, I just wanted Dad's attention.

Standing outside, I looked back at the entrance.

But Dad didn't co after .

"Waaahhh!"

A small child, not knowing the way, wandered aimlessly.

I hated Dad.

I hated the restaurant, the shop.

I felt miserable.

I kept crying.

How long did I walk like that?

"Aren't you the son of the Yujeong Snack Shop owner? Are you lost?"

Fortunately, a woman spoke to .

"Stop! Quit crying! Co with ."

Holding her hand cald down a bit, but I was scared to return to the shop.

I was afraid of how much Dad would scold .

When I arrived at the shop—

a foreboding hunch solidified into harsh reality.

"Kyaaaaah!!"

The woman panicked and froze,

then, regaining her composure, shielded .

"D-don't look! Don't look, kid!"

She hugged , blocking my field of vision.

"G-g-god. First, I should report this...."

But I had already seen everything.

Everything was imprinted on my retinas.

'My dad, lying cold and bloody, a lifeless corpse.'

People call the past 'the age of romance', but beneath that romance lies barbarity.

Everyone struggled during the IMF era, that barbaric ti.

A middle-aged man lost his job, started a restaurant, and soon failed.

All his retirent pay disappeared and he was left with a mountain of debt.

And soon after, a new restaurant took over the sa spot.

He naturally thought that shop would fail, too—

it was too poor a location to attract business.

But that restaurant didn't close.

As ti went by, instead of losing custors, it gained more and more.

The na of that shop was,

'Yujeong Snack Shop.'

The foolish jealousy of a human piece of trash.

That's what killed my father.

'He got only ten years for a drunken cri of passion.'

Having lost my father so pointlessly, I began drifting from one relative's house to another.

If there had been much inheritance, they might have wanted to take in,

but in those difficult tis, none of my relatives welcod .

Of course, life without Dad was a nightmare.

Dad's last words to circled in my head every night.

― Dad, I hate you!

I felt sorry for Dad.

That his only son's last words to him were like that.

What must have been running through his mind as he died?

Sohow, while barely keeping myself going with such thoughts,

shortly after enrolling in elentary school, I was notified.

"Sorry, Han Chul. The relatives tried taking turns looking after you but... sigh. I'm sorry, truly. We just can't take care of you."

It was decided I would go to an orphanage.

Surprisingly, I accepted it calmly.

My relatives were in tough spots, too, so I tried to understand.

Part of thought positively—at least I wouldn't have to tiptoe around them so much now.

A week after that,

while I was leaving school, a man who seed to recognize approached at the gate.

Probably soone sent by the orphanage to pick up.

"He's the spitting image, aren't you Han Chul? Good to et you."

I thought I'd be fine, but when the ti actually ca, sorrow welled up.

I nearly burst into tears but barely held back.

But then, the man said sothing I hadn't expected.

"I'm a friend of your dad? Tsk. Not a friend actually, huh. More like... a ntor."

I was so shocked I was montarily speechless.

He said he was like Dad's ntor, and he slled a bit like Dad and had the sa warm smile.

"Who I am isn't all that important. Your relatives told they decided to send you to an orphanage."

I nodded.

Without realizing it, a tear slipped from my left eye.

"... If you're okay with it, I was thinking of bringing you to my house. What do you think?"

For a second, I thought I had misheard and just blinked.

"I already talked it over with your relatives. Don't worry, just do what you want. Hmm. I guess you need ti to think?"

"Ah, so you're... what?"

And then the tears stread down.

The man panicked at my bawling,

and when I finally choked out, 'Thank you. I'll work hard at anything,' he gave a big hug.

"Sorry I'm late, Han Chul."

A week later.

After bidding my relatives farewell, I packed and got into his car.

Fear and excitent were all mixed together.

When I got out of the car and followed the man, I saw a restaurant.

Its na and sign were both corny.

'Happiness Gukbap?'

Inside, there was the savory aroma unique to soup rice shops.

There were a good number of custors.

It reminded exactly of Dad's shop.

"Han Chul, have you eaten yet?"

I shook my head.

Honestly, I wasn't that hungry, but the sll made my mouth water.

"Can you wait over there for a minute?"

A mont later, the man set a steaming hot stone pot in front of .

Steam billowed up.

With a confident smile he said,

"This is our house's signature dish: the Original Happiness Gukbap. Careful, it's hot."

As I blew on it to cool it, a woman ca out from the kitchen.

"Dear! What are you thinking? Even if you've never raised a child, you can't just let a kid eat sothing that hot by himself!"

She nagged at the man,

and kindly blew on the food to cool it for .

"Even now, it's hot, so eat as carefully as you can, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Should I feed you?"

She smiled softly as she spoke.

I was overwheld, never having felt such warmth before.

"It's okay. I'll eat well. Thank you."

I couldn't hold back anymore and took a bite.

"?!"

A rich nutty flavor and the creamy fragrance of perilla seed powder filled my mouth.

The deep taste of the broth.

The depth gets deeper the more I chew!

It didn't just linger in my mouth—it clung to it.

"!!!!!!"

So, so, sO,

absolutely delicious.

I swear it was the best thing I'd ever eaten in my life.

I sincerely believed I'd never taste anything better, even if I died and ca back to life.

Nom nom. Slurp, slurp. Gulp!

"Wow, is it that good?"

Even when the man asked, I couldn't stop.

I shoved my face into the bowl and ate with gusto.

I couldn't care less about burning my palate—I was busy stuffing soup rice into my mouth.

Slurp. Nom, nom!

Three years after that day,

the man beca my 'father',

and the woman beca my mother.

*

"Later, I heard, actually 'father' had also lost his restaurant once. Back then, 'Dad' helped him in return for a favor, and because of that, Happiness Gukbap got back on its feet. That's the reason 'father' adopted ."

By now, the mana condensed around Plerine had cald down.

The black-streaked aura coming from Naba's head no longer grew.

Naba gazed at for a long mont, then spoke.

"What does that have to do with the story, and why you took in?"

I sensed the tremor in Naba's voice.

With a smile, copying the warmth of my dad and father, I replied,

"Everyone has a past, Naba. There are hard tis and painful tis. But hard tis never last forever. I wanted to tell you that from experience."

"... Kugh!!"

Suddenly, Naba's black energy fluctuated violently.

His pupils kept blurring and coming back into focus.

But I could feel it.

Naba was holding on right now.

I sprang up and took a step closer to him.

"When I received an adult's warm care and attention, that small chance let be who I am. In the sa way, I wanted to light a path for your future too, Naba. That's all. That's why I saved you, when you were dying."

Step. Step.

I walked toward him.

The closer the distance beca between Naba and ,

the more the dark, chilly aura around Naba faltered.

I kept walking right up to him.

Step. Step.

"So, Naba."

At last, I reached right in front of the kid's nose.

Naba's tears were streaming down.

Not black, but clear human tears.

"Yes, boss."

I placed my hand on Naba's crown.

"I'll be your...."

I couldn't bring myself to say, 'I'll be your father.'

"I'll beco a boss who's like a father to you."

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