“Then, Fenrir, the gagd from earlier vanished.”
Ignoring the awkward eye contact between the wolf and I, Tiamat continued. This woman walked at her own pace.
“I want your permission to hunt some gagd in the forest. You’re the master of the forest, are you now?”
That was a request. I couldn’t help but imagine Tiamat firing her Laser Breath left and right under the excuse of experimentation. I was sure that the Fenrir imagined the same.
“If gagd is what you desire, I will have my kin bring it to you. Please, don’t move from here.”
“Hm? That’s easy for me, but I don’t want to impose.”
“It is no trouble whatsoever. Please, remain where you are.”
That seemed about right. You couldn’t really confront Tia with the fact that she would have caused more trouble by acting on her own. I understood, Mister Fenrir. Tiamat acted without much thought. She was incredibly smart and kind, but acted out of the feel of the moment more often than not. This very revelation had just struck me.
“In that case, please and thank you.”
“You can count on us.”
Mister Fenrir gave me a glance as he graciously accepted the responsibility.
I don’t envy you, his eyes seemed to say.
4.
For the time being, we decided to sit down on the ground and wait. Tiamat was powerful enough to push past the wolf, but that would have been pointless.
“I didn’t mean to give him so much concern,” Tiamat said, as she plopped down on the ground.
“I’m sure they didn’t want their living quarters destroyed.”
“Excuse you, Eiji. The next one was only going to be at half strength.”
How different, really, was a destructive beam that reached a kilometer and one that reached half that. Potayto potahto. Let’s call the whole thing off.
“Since they volunteered, it would be better to leave it to them. I’m sure even you couldn’t fully get the hang of things after only a couple tries. There’s much to learn from failures, but it’s not like we want to become hunters, anyway.”
Our end goal wasn’t to hunt gagd. Our current objective was to popularize dishes using the gagd meat to Lishua, and eventually the entirety of Azur. Even that wouldn’t be the end of it, though. Boar meat wasn’t enough to make up for the lack of vitamin B1. Our endeavor would only be successful once we ingrained a balanced diet of sides into the culture here. The road ahead of us seemed endless, but we had to hurry. Lives were at stake. If my efforts could save even one or two lives, not trying was not an option.
“Hm? What’s wrong, Tia?”
I noticed that Tiamat was staring at me. We were already partners, so she wasn’t looking at me like she wanted to join the party.
“Nothing. I was only surprised at how earnest you are.”
“...Was I thinking out loud?”
“I mean no offense by this, but I had pegged Japanese bureaucrats to be much more lackadaisical.”
“I don’t deny that some of us are.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. When asked why they chose their profession, many bureaucrats would cite the steady pay and job security. I don’t think that’s a bad reason either. Everyone works for themselves or their family, and there is nothing wrong with that. Even bureaucrats can’t be expected to be altruistic. In my case, however, I had someone I aspired to be like.
“Who?”
“Not a direct acquaintance. Saw him on TV.”
“Oh?”
In 1986, Mount Mihara on Izu Ōshima had a major eruption. It was Mister Akita, the assistant official, who had taken command of the evacuation to get the ten thousand plus residents and tourists off the island without a single casualty. He pleaded with all sorts of institutions, did everything that needed to be done, and stayed behind on the island to watch the final rescue boat leave.
Of course, I had no direct knowledge of this event. It took place in the year I was born. I learned of it in the year 2000, through a TV program aired on the national broadcast channel. I was a fourteen-year-old middle schooler.
“I looked up to him. He was admirable. I wanted to be like him.”
“This formed your career path, then.”
“I don’t know if I was that determined about it, but... I want to help other people. That’s never left me.”
I placed my hand on my heart.
...Perhaps it was a little too cheesy.
“I see. I feel like I’ve cracked a mystery. It was curious why you worked so hard for the sake of the people in this world.”
“It’s a little embarrassing that it all started from a TV program.”
“No matter the drive behind it, good deeds are exactly that. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Ah. While we were learning about your embarrassing past, Mister Fenrir has returned.”
“So should I be embarrassed or not?”
Concealing my embarrassed grin with a chuckle, I stood. In front of us was a gagd of considerable size, as big as the one Tiamat had turned to ash. Its freshly dimmed red eyes looked up at us begrudgingly.
“Now, what will you do with it, Human?”
“You can call me Eiji.”
“Then, I permit you to address me as Baze.”
Permission was granted from a very high horse. Although, from a Fenrir’s perspective, it had no reason to speak with a human. At best, a human could only hope to be seen as an enemy and not prey.
“I believe we need to drain its blood first.”
“Hm. How?” Tiamat asked.
“...”
How, indeed? It was a popular plot point in fantasy pieces, especially ones that focus on pioneering or survival. However, I didn’t know how to take apart an animal. Even if I did, what was I supposed to do with a four-meter boar? How could those protagonists make it look so easy? Was it a skill obtainable by watching someone do it a couple of times? More importantly, how could they be so unaffected in the face of a freshly killed carcass, animal or otherwise? I was beginning to doubt that these protagonists were genuinely Japanese. Perhaps they were already hunters and gatherers.
I, in the meantime, was chickening out. Terrified, to be honest. A charging gagd was terrifying too, but a corpse was terrifying in another way.
“Hang it upside down and slit its throat,” Tiamat enlightened me.
Whether this was a necessary piece of knowledge or a trivial one, it was nice to have someone that knew the steps. Nice, but the problem was how. How were we going to hang a four-meter-long beast? I didn’t have the strength to do it, and Tiamat couldn’t physically do the task as she was the same size as me. Mister Baze the Fenrir was larger than the gagd, but his forelegs were not as well suited for things like holding or tying rope. We didn’t even have any rope in the first place.
“What should we do...”
“I can fly up with its legs in my mouth.”
“You can fly, Tia?”
“I have them on my back. These wings aren’t just for show. Ha-han.”
“Can you please start pulling gags I can understand?”
Tiamat’s proposal was for her to bite down on the gagd’s leg and fly up. Once it was upside down, Mister Baze would slit its throat to let out the blood. It was the most brute-force way I could have imagined to bloodlet. I was beginning to worry that the entire area would become flooded in blood.
“Why don’t you just bite it as-is, Eiji?”
The Fenrir shook its head, nearing the edge of his patience.
“I’m not the one who’s going to eat it, Mister Baze.”
The people back at the city needed to eat it. We needed to let the blood out, and make it into a delicious dish. If the notion that gagd didn’t taste good was established, it wouldn’t be easy to retcon.
On the flip side, if the gagd dish made a good first impression on people, the dish could spread fast and wide. If that happened there would be other issues to worry about, of course, like damaging the woodlands and overhunting. Turn
ing the gagd into livestock may be the shortcut, surprisingly enough.
“Then they should be the one to do it.”
A grin seemed to flash on the Fenrir’s face. I followed its gaze to see a hint of a dust cloud in the distance.
“A carriage is approaching. Seeing that they are screaming your name, they seem to be looking for you, Eiji.”
“You can tell from this distance?”
“The human senses are much too dull. You would never survive in the wild.”
“That’s why we formed groups, built cities, and passed down our knowledge to the next generation in order to survive.”
Baze scoffed at my generalized study of human society. Nowhere in history had there ever been a country of magibeasts. Nor an empire of demons, or a kingdom ruled by a Demon Lord. There had only ever been human nations. Didn’t this historical fact back my theory, in a way? That was exactly why Mister Baze wore a disdainful expression.
5.
Mister Garish from the Adventurers’ Guild and four other adventurers were aboard the carriage. They had formed a search party, concerned that we hadn’t returned from what was supposed to be a day trip. I was, just, terribly sorry.
One of the adventurers who accompanied Mister Garish specialized in hunting. A deus ex machina if I had ever seen one. Thanks to him, we succeeded at taking apart the gagd. However, not without some complications.
“Is that all you’re going to call it?” Tiamat offered her criticism, accompanied by a chuckle.
Mister Garish and his group had spotted us easily. At the same time, they naturally spotted Mister Baze, the Fenrir and the King of the Forest. Anyone would have been astonished.
With that in mind, the actions the four adventurers took were surely admirable. Each of them were drained of color, but they formed a stance to guard the carriage.
“We’ll hold it off! Run, Mister Garish!”
And they came out with this tearjerker. In a movie, this would have been their climax. That was, I’m sure, why Mister Baze played along...
“You dare stand in my way, humans?”
...with a line like that.
“I’ll show you what humans can do when they’re cornered.”
This was the response by a swordsman-looking adventurer. Let’s call him A for the time being.
“Yeah. I’m getting married after this gig. I can’t die here.”
“Taking it down counts as holding it off, right?”
Let’s call them B and C. They looked like a rogue and mage, respectively. The last of them, the hunter-looking adventurer D, silently held up his necklace and kissed it, before nocking an arrow on his bow. The necklace must have been something dear to him. Left behind by his lover, perhaps. Jeez. They were practically trying to set up their own deaths.
“I admire your courage. Leave this place with pride that you’ve fallen to my fangs.”
Baze made his silver, brushy hair stand. He was another problem. Why was this wolf getting so into it? Throughout this encounter, I had been poking at Tiamat with my elbow.
Say something, I was trying to communicate to her. Naturally, I was completely ignored.
With no one else to turn to, I explained our situation. It’s quite tiring to walk calm and collected into a heated play-pretend. If you don’t believe it, you should try some time. That apathetic reaction was extremely stressful, to say the least.
“To think you’ve formed a friendship with a Fenrir, Sir Eiji,” Mister Garish said, as we watched the gagd being steadily taken apart. With the adventurer experienced in the process taking the lead, things were moving smoothly. Baze and Tiamat were helping too, all buddy-buddy.
“The credit for that goes to Tia. I haven’t done a thing.”
“You’re too modest. There is such a thing, you know.”
Unfortunately for Mister Garish, I was telling the complete truth, but I decided to let it slide. It wasn’t something worth arguing over, and Tiamat’s and my accomplishments would tend to be considered one in the same, anyway. We were partners, after all.
On the other hand, if I screwed up, the shame would befall Tiamat as much as it would me. I mean, things were the same in any organization or corporation. One person’s mistake can damage everyone’s reputation. Bureaucrats like me tended to face backlash harsher than most.
“In any case, once we cut it, we need to cook it. I’m glad you came in a carriage.”
“Indeed, Sir Eiji. I can’t say I wasn’t surprised that you hadn’t thought of a method to transport the meat back to town.”
“My apologies.”
Not a shred of forethought on my end. I hadn’t thought of a single step beyond hunting a gagd. Not about taking it apart, not about carrying the meat back to town, and not about how and where to cook it. I surprised myself that I had the gall to suggest going hunting. If it weren’t for my ultra-competent partner and Mister Garish’s quick thinking, I would have died a miserable death.
“Speaking of, will the meat hold until we get it to town?” I asked, as the question sprung to my mind. It was early summer. While it was comfortable weather for us, it would not be wise to keep fresh meat exposed to it for long. Because of food poisoning, and all that.
“It should be fine. It will take less than a day to get there. Besides, no one’s going to die from meat that’s a little spoiled.”
“I suppose... No one’s going to eat it raw...”
It had slipped my mind that there was no refrigeration devices in this world. Even in Japan, before the 1920’s, anyone living in the mountainous areas of the country would have been hard pressed to enjoy any seafood. It wasn’t that eating seafood wasn’t a part of their culture, it was just a problem of transportation and preservation. Any seafood would have rotted before anyone there could have eaten it.
I remembered that the predecessors of refrigerators and frozen foods were not invented until the nineteenth century. It was only in the 1970’s that those things resembled what they look like today. That was around the same time as the invention of TV dinners. Those, of course, didn’t exist in this world. Even the food carried around by traveling adventurers weren’t given any real best-by date. Bacteria and nutrition had not even come up as concepts in this world. Any foods that people traveled with were a mish-mash of foods that kind of seemed to last longer and foods that kind of seemed to spoil slower.
Specifically, they were dried or salted meat. Those were about the only two options they could take. Preventing the growth of bacteria by cutting out moisture; in a world oblivious to the existence of microscopic organisms, this was the method of food preservation developed through trial and error. That being said, the longest one could hope for their food to last with such a method was a week or ten days.
“We’ll just boil it.”
Mister Garish laughed.
“Right...”
There it was, the ‘you can eat anything if you boil it’ philosophy. Even in Japan, those who lived through the mid- and post-war impoverishment became rather obsessed with food. Basically, they couldn’t throw anything away. Even if the food was obviously spoiled, they would try to consume it, somehow.
The most common method to do so while cooking is boiling it. As a result, they could get sick. A stomachache could be laughed off, but eating spoiled food and dying from food poisoning is so ridiculous it’s not even funny, to say the least.
“We have to think about preservation and transportation, too...”
I was beginning to recognize the mountain of problems in front of me. It wasn’t just about stopping the spread of beriberi. It was clear that trying to revert the distortedly evolved world to its natural course would be no easy task. Breaking it’s the easy part, you know? Mister Piece-of-Shit Hero?
In any case, if I didn’t follow through with preserving and transporting the meat, we would soon have a scurvy outbreak on our hands... Although, treating scurvy seemed easier than beriberi, since that was caused by the lack of vitamin C.
“Oh. Lo
st in thought again, are we, Eiji?”
Perhaps concerned by me and my mumbling, Tiamat approached me. A blood-soaked dragon. Soaked bright red from head to toe in the blood of the gagd. It was just plain scary.
“You really are an earnest man.”
She burst out laughing. I very much wanted her never to laugh while looking like that ever again.
“I’m already here. I know that’s a cheap reason.”
“There’s nothing cheap about helping people. But, for now, why don’t we rinse off? Baze told me there’s a spring nearby.”
“Good idea. I’m a ball of sweat.”
While I was only covered in sweat and dirt, Tiamat, Baze, and the adventurers were soaked in blood. Returning to town looking like this may cause some alarm.
6.
The spring was coed. Of course, I would have been more surprised if the spring had a partition that divided itself in half to accommodate males and females separately. I’m sure chivalry would have dictated that us men waited until the ladies finished, but the female, mage-looking adventurer nonchalantly gave her approval for coed bathing.
“Just don’t stare, all right?” she added.
How laid-back. Tiamat, the other lady of the group, had no qualms since she already walked around everywhere naked.
Wait. Are her scales like a layer of clothes?
With inconsequential thoughts like that, I washed up with the clear spring water. The water temperature was quite low. Although it was early summer, it felt like I would be chilled to the bone if I stayed in too long.
“Whew. I can’t wait to go back to town and take a hot bath,” the swordsman-looking man said, as he cleaned himself beside me. I noticed his handsome face, along with his well-toned, sabre-like body. Urgh. No, I wasn’t jealous, dammit! I was an office worker!
“Oh, do Hermits take baths, Sir Eiji?”
Noticing my glance, the man asked a question with a dimpled smile. It was too bright. His cool guy aura was too much for me.
“We do, but no need for all the formalities. I’m just an F-rank.”
I reciprocated the smile. Tiamat and I were both newly registered F-rank adventurers. In other words, we were barely out of orientation. On the other hand, I was told that the team that came to rescue us was solely comprised of A-ranks.
Isekai Rebuilding Project: Volume 1 Page 7