Meals Are Essential
After Nancy left.
"Well then, Joan, the private corps is waiting for us."
As if nothing had happened, Father said, holding me in his arms.
When I looked toward the training grounds, the members of the private corps were watching us. Noticing they were being watched, the five of them looked incredibly awkward.
Well, being scolded by a maid and made to sit in seiza is embarrassing to witness.
But it's their own fault. Or rather, their own personal hell.
"Ah, yeah, everyone, thank you for your hard work during training."
Father addressed the private corps.
“Umm, you’ve endured a lot, too."
Said the leader of the private corps, offering words of appreciation to Father.
"This is our first meeting, Young lady. I am Al Dietz, the leader of this private corps."
A handsome man with long black hair tied back neatly.
Father put me down, and I curtseyed.
"Thank you for the introduction. I am Joan Lampail, the eldest daughter of the Lampail family."
"You did so well, Joan. As expected of my cute little Joan,"
Father said, hugging me.
Everyone looked on with lukewarm expressions.
Afterward, the other members of the corps introduced themselves briefly.
Everyone was handsome. Must be a perk of this other world.
Plus, because they train, they're lean and muscular—great physiques.
I wish I could show this to Raika!
While observing the training, Brother Noel, Brother Gene, and Nathan joined in.
The sparring matches with practice swords became very intense. It was my first time seeing my brothers fight.
As expected, my brothers couldn’t match the private corps.
I wonder if Father or Gray could beat them? But maybe their age would make it tough.
Nancy might have a chance, though.
After the sparring match with my brothers ended, they took a break.
I brought out chilled iced tea and honey-preserved lemons from storage. Zack helped me distribute them to everyone.
It felt just like being a team manager for a club.
The private corps members said they lived together in a dormitory, but did they cook their own meals too?
I asked one of the nearby members.
"Do you all cook your own meals?"
"Yes, Young lady. Since we sometimes camp out, we also use it as practice to prepare edible food."
Kira said with a distant look.
He was the tallest among the members, with a sturdy build and spiky red hair—a handsome man.
"Um, does that mean the food isn’t very tasty?"
"The younger ones take turns cooking, but depending on who it is..."
This is a serious problem.
The private corps relies on their bodies, so lacking proper nutrition increases the risk of injuries.
Apparently, the "young ones" referred to teenagers, many of whom had never cooked before joining. Basically, they're juniors.
Kira, at 20, had just graduated from cooking duty.
"Is it just grilling meat? No vegetables?"
"Ah, it’s mostly like that. The vegetables are just raw and torn-up leaves. The meat is often either burnt or undercooked."
Are you kidding me?
That’s downright terrible.
"Does Father know about this?"
"No, I don’t think so. We’re grateful for all his support, so we can’t complain about something like food. So please keep it a secret, Young lady."
He placed a finger to his lips and winked.
Ugh. That was a bit charming, but I’m not falling for it.
I’m 82, you know. Don’t underestimate me.
"That’s unacceptable!! You can’t neglect proper meals!"
With that, I ran to Father.
Tap, tap, tap.
"Father! I need to talk to you!"
Father was chatting with Gray and Al.
Later, I learned that Al was also a former member of the demon-slaying corps and a colleague of Father.
"What is it, my dear Joan?"
Father, your choice of words is strange.
"Why doesn’t the private corps have a proper cook?"
"That’s because they need to practice cooking for when they camp out."
"I understand the reasoning, but if they don’t eat properly outside of camps, they won’t recover from training fatigue and are more likely to get injured. How can the private corps, which relies on their bodies, not have proper meals? Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to say something old-fashioned like, 'Back in my day, this was normal,' or 'I got by just fine doing the same'? Right, Father?"
"Ugh."
Bullseye, wasn’t it, Father?
"“Hahaha.”"
Gray and Al were laughing.
"Gray, Al, now’s not the time to laugh! You probably thought the same way as Father, which is why this issue has never been addressed, isn’t it? Times have changed!
Haven’t there been cases of illness or frequent injuries during expeditions? If the goal is to learn cooking, then you especially need a proper instructor! Is there someone to teach them? No, right? The seniors probably just teach the juniors, and that’s why the cooking quality hasn’t improved. Raw torn-up vegetables—what are they, animals?
Some vegetables even become more nutritious when cooked. Do you know about that? You don’t, do you? That’s why all this time—"
My lecture to the three adults lasted for about 30 minutes.
What do you think about this chapter?
