All the subordinates, as if by tacit agreement, arrived at Yaoqing ahead of time.
General Yaoqing had booked the venue early in the morning, for colleagues and their superior to gather.
To them, this was a special kind of gathering.
In the past, they could only see the Marshal at victory banquets or other official occasions. But now, it was just them, his subordinates.
This group of generals who usually piloted Colossi and roamed the universe, right now, all their usual icy, imposing aura was gone. Instead, they all stared at the chef General Yaoqing had arranged.
Rubbing their hands together, rolling up their sleeves, they were ready to apprentice on the spot, determined to give their Marshal a little surprise with their cooking skills.
When Zero arrived, the venue was thick with smoke and steam, it didn't look like a gathering at all, but like a battlefield.
As he stepped inside, his subordinates held their breath, each with a pot in hand, eyes locked on the chef's every move.
Once the group, absorbed in cooking, noticed someone approaching, they lifted their heads, and there was their Marshal.
They instantly set down the pots in their hands, picked up the plates beside them, and scrambled to crowd around him.
Zero glanced at the crowd circling around him, listened to the overlapping shouts, then looked down at the dozen or so plates of… questionable-looking dishes.
Probably only "a horde of demons dancing wildly" could describe this scene…
Zero sighed, "Don't rush. One at a time."
Seizing the advantage of being the host, General Yaoqing was the first to step forward. He pulled out a chair for the Marshal and reminded the others to line up.
The others, '…What a schemer!'
Once Zero was seated, General Yaoqing handed him chopsticks and pushed forward the dish he had made.
Normally, Zero didn't like to eat. Especially not beast meat, chicken, or fried eggs. He only liked fruit. At banquets, he usually just drank silently.
'Well… since I'm already here…'
Seeing the unidentifiable thing on the plate, Zero hesitated.
But faced with his subordinate's eyes, full of expectation, he decided to cheat, he used the system panel to figure out what it actually was.
He picked up a bite and put it into his mouth. Truly hard to swallow, no taste at all. So he could only rely on the listed ingredients on the panel to come up with some compliments.
His subordinate's face lit up with excitement, about to say more, but before he could open his mouth, another subordinate pushed him out of the way.
Zero stared at another unidentifiable lump, black like coal, and once again pulled up the system.
He ate more than ten dishes in a row, racking his brains for every possible compliment. Apart from one spicy dish that actually had a taste, the rest he couldn't even identify the ingredients.
The subordinates, vying for the title of "Marshal's Favorite Dish," wanted to make their colleagues try theirs on the spot, hoping to prove their worth with evidence.
Zero, glancing at his health bar cut in half and a steadily stacking poison debuff, kept a straight face as he stopped them from exchanging dishes, and urged them to sit down and eat food made by a proper chef.
As for why, well, he wasn't obsessive-compulsive. He wouldn't run to a statue to heal just because his health bar wasn't full.
After a few cups of liquor, the subordinates, who at first had just been trading sharp words and subtle jabs, ripped the pretense off and started airing each other's dark secrets.
For example, one handsome-looking male subordinate loved to dress himself up, always putting on powder and drawing his brows before going out or attending meetings.
That subordinate shouted angrily, "Lies! What? You want me to wash my face right now? Get lost!"
Another female subordinate, who looked pure and innocent on the outside, was actually wild and unrestrained, constantly entangled with naïve young men. She had even once been cornered in front of a general's mansion, unable to advance or retreat.
When her scandal was revealed, the female subordinate threw Zero a flirty glance, "Once I've seen the pearl, how could sand ever catch my eye? The only one I've ever wanted, from beginning to end, has been our Marshal~"
As soon as she said that, everyone else burst out in fury, and for a moment no one cared anymore about her past flings.
Zero knew he was being used as a distraction tool, but he didn't get angry. Instead, he smiled, took a sip of wine, and kept listening to his subordinates bicker.
Another example, one petite female subordinate was in fact a die-hard mech-fanatic, who loved collecting figurines to display in her mansion.
She blushed and shouted back, "So what if I like mechs! What? You're saying I even wear those painful mech-themed clothes? And what if I do?"
Zero actually agreed with that. After all, who doesn't like Gundams? Of course… not the kind that cause bugs.
He listened to a whole night of gossip, but what shocked him most was a subordinate he had only just recently rescued.
That man was nearly two meters tall, shoulders as broad as a double-door fridge, looked like a no-nonsense iron-blooded tough guy. He was also the one who kept urging Zero to ascend the throne.
Even as his superior, Zero never would have guessed that underneath, this man was timid and introverted.
The one spilling the tea revealed that before this tough subordinate proposed the idea of ascension, he would rehearse in the dorm again and again, shouting, "Marshal, please ascend the throne!"
The whistleblower complained that he had suffered terribly, often kept awake at night by the shouting, nearly wanting to storm over and beat him up. But thinking of the Marshal, he could only endure.
The big man almost dropped his wine cup. He froze, clearly shocked that someone knew about this.
Seeing his expression, the whistleblower grew even more enraged, blurting out, "Marshal, this guy is just a coward! Not only did he rehearse speeches and practice over and over before meeting you, but before every battle, he would secretly hide in the dorm and cry."
The big man's face turned bright red, "Y-you! How dare you slander me out of nowhere! Marshal, you know me, I've never once flinched on the battlefield, "
"Alright, alright, I believe you." Zero tried to smooth things over. He added, "Besides, don't cling to stereotypes. Tears aren't the privilege of any one gender or group."
The big man's expression froze instantly.
Seeing his comfort wasn't working, Zero had to change the subject, "Since you're all talking about off-duty stuff, I'll tell you something about the Strategist. Sometimes I make him so mad he throws punches at the air."
Everyone looked at each other, and then burst into loud laughter.
That was the Marshal! For the first time ever, joking with them, trying to lighten the mood, a rare limited edition.
Sorry, Strategist. For the Marshal's sake, we'll have to wrong you just this once.
This meal, more or less, could be considered a happy success.
A female subordinate with "Neptune vibes" leaned in with a big smile, asking Zero what he thought of the gathering. The others held their breath, waiting for his answer.
Zero glanced at his now-full health bar and the poison debuff finally gone, then sighed helplessly, "Not bad. But my dear generals, your hands are for killing enemies. Best not use them for cooking again."
Hearing the Marshal's answer, the female subordinate smoothly followed up, immediately locking in a time for their next gathering.
Zero sighed again, agreeing to the invitation.
Why did it feel like he'd been tricked again?
And just as he thought, after the second gathering came the third, then the fourth.
How many times did he drink under the moon with his subordinates? He couldn't quite remember. Only vaguely that each time, they would find new things to bring, clothes, accessories, strange little snacks, and so on.
One day, the female subordinates surrounded him first, launching into a lecture, when with girls, he should walk on the outside of the road to protect them, open doors for them, pull out chairs, and so on…
Zero listened in a daze. Before he could figure out what they meant, the male subordinates crowded in too, all talking at once, passing on their "experience" with girls.
Things like, when eating out, he should pay the bill, at BBQ or hotpot he should put food in the girl's bowl, and after a date he should escort her home…
Zero crossed his arms and stared at them, "And what trick are you trying to pull now?"
The timid big man was the first to step forward, "Marshal, the harem cannot go a single day without its master."
Zero, "…"
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