Chapter 7: The Supplies Are Seized

The sight of that dark shadow vaulting over the wall was like a needle, instantly piercing Fan Tong’s drowsiness.

It was Li Hu!

Fan Tong’s mind buzzed. The night wind blowing against him raised a flurry of goosebumps. That bastard, why was he sneaking out in the middle of the night? And the direction he headed was toward the perimeter of the camp!

A wave of intense unease, like a cold viper, coiled around his heart. He did not make a sound, retreating silently into the shadows as he watched the figure vanish into the darkness, his brows knitted tightly together.

Should he report it?

What would he say? That he was up to relieve himself and saw a punished centurion sneaking out? In this camp with its strict military discipline, chasing shadows was a major taboo. If Li Hu had just gone out to take a dump, wouldn’t he be falsely accusing a comrade? If that happened, the lash would be the one falling on his own backside.

Fan Tong returned to his tent, sleep entirely abandoned. He sat on the cold ground, his giant bone-chopping cleaver leaning against him. The cold touch traveling from the blade into his palm helped settle his chaotic thoughts.

Over the next few days, the camp remained calm.

The next morning, Li Hu appeared at the stables as if nothing had happened, though his expression was even gloomier, and his eyes held a hint of defiant malice. Fan Tong sent Bao Nianfeng to monitor him a few times, but other than grooming horses or sleeping, the man displayed no abnormal behavior. It was as if that night had been merely a figment of Fan Tong’s imagination.

Yet, the string in Fan Tong’s heart remained taut. He knew that the sea was always calmest before a storm.

Meanwhile, the kitchen had become the most vibrant and lively spot in the austere camp. The two great commanders, Xu Da and Feng Sheng, had essentially turned it into their private cafeteria. One day one would bring a flask of fine wine, the next the other would bring a haunch of venison; they came to forage for food every few days.

"Fan Tong! Stir-fry me some liver! And add plenty of garlic!" Feng Sheng stepped into the kitchen, his voice booming.

"Get lost, you Feng fellow! I was here first! Fan Tong, where is that jar of wine from last night?" Xu Da pushed in from the other side with a dark face, carrying two wild rabbits in his hand.

These two top generals of the Great Ming, with a combined age of over a hundred, would bicker and glare at each other in front of the kitchen staff over who got to order first or whose wine was better. Fan Tong could only manage a bitter smile, serving them well. After all, they were his superiors.

One day, Xu Da came by for a meal again, happening upon the kitchen staff’s own lunch hour. His gaze lingered on Bao Nianfeng, then swept over the other sturdy kitchen hands behind him, a look of bewilderment crossing his face.

"Fan Tong, your talent for feeding pigs is getting better and better." Xu Da stroked his chin, circling Bao Nianfeng. "It’s only been a few days; how has this kid puffed up like a balloon? He’s as strong as a calf!"

Bao Nianfeng felt incredibly uncomfortable under the commander’s scrutiny, standing ramrod straight and not daring to breathe.

Fan Tong’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly laughed it off. "Commander, it’s just good food and diligent training! You see, I taught them this set of... er, ancestral body-tempering techniques, combined with our kitchen’s medicinal diet. The effect is remarkable!"

Xu Da gave him a suspicious look and reached out to pinch Bao Nianfeng’s arm. The solid muscle was hard as rock, definitely not just fat.

"You kid, you’ve got plenty of tricks up your sleeve." Xu Da withdrew his hand but didn't press the matter.

After all, the military’s food had visibly improved these past few days. Not only could they eat their fill, but the variety had also increased. Fan Tong had even come up with some novel emergency rations—something called "compressed biscuits," palm-sized blocks that, when washed down with a bit of water, could keep hunger at bay for half a day. Such a logistical genius was allowed a few small secrets.

"Alright, don't spend all day fattening up your people until they're slick with oil. Someone might think I, Xu Tiande, am mistreating the soldiers and only favoring your kitchen." Xu Da gave him a warning, then lowered his voice. "For that pot of spicy lamb spine tonight, save a bowl for me!"

Fan Tong agreed repeatedly, though he was inwardly wary. It seemed he needed to tell Bao Nianfeng and the others to be more discreet.

After seeing off the two bigwigs, Fan Tong immediately ducked into his tent to inventory the equipment provided by the system.

[Ogre Vanguard Set X5]

Five sets of gear exuding a ferocious aura appeared out of thin air before Fan Tong.

It was crude and rugged armor, pieced together from thick animal hides and iron plates, protecting vital areas like the chest and shoulders. The weapons were even more savage: three massive axes with thick, jagged blades, and two spiked maces covered in hideous iron barbs!

This stuff looked completely different from the standard equipment of the Ming army. If seen, even a bandit would believe it belonged to a mountain raider. But Fan Tong’s eyes lit up. This was exactly what he wanted! Simple, brutal, and effective!

He immediately called Bao Nianfeng and the four other most robust and loyal kitchen hands into his tent. When the five sets of lethal weapons were laid out before them, the men’s breathing hitched.

"Boss... what... what is this?" Bao Nianfeng asked, stuttering, his eyes locked on the largest giant axe as if he were looking at the lover of his dreams.

"From today on, you are not just kitchen hands." Fan Tong’s voice was low and powerful. "You are my personal guard! You are the sharpest blade in this culinary troop!"

"Put them on!"

Bao Nianfeng was the first to step forward, donning the crude leather armor and grabbing the giant axe—which was thicker than his own thigh. He swung it, creating a dull, whistling roar!

A sense of power and security he had never known enveloped him. He looked at Fan Tong with undisguised fanaticism and worship.

"We swear to follow Boss Fan to the death!"

"We swear to follow Boss Fan to the death!"

The other four also donned the gear, took up their weapons, and knelt on one knee, their voices unified and resonant.

A heavy culinary troop equipped with ogre weapons was officially born!

Fan Tong nodded with satisfaction, yet the unease in his heart had not dissipated.

Three days later, in the dead of night, a messenger responsible for delivering military orders charged into the camp on horseback, heading straight for the central command tent.

"Report! Commander! Urgent military report!"

"Speak!" Inside the brightly lit command tent, Xu Da and Feng Sheng were analyzing the situation on a sand table.

"Our... our thousand-man unit sent to escort grain toward Beiping was ambushed at White Wolf Pass, fifty miles away! The entire unit was wiped out! Three thousand stones of grain were... were burned to the ground!"

"What?!"

Xu Da stood up abruptly, slamming a hand onto the sand table and knocking the small flags askew.

White Wolf Pass had treacherous terrain and was a necessary route for grain transport, but it had always been safe, with no signs of major Yuan military activity! Moreover, the grain route was a top-secret military matter decided at the last minute; besides the core generals in the tent, no outsider could possibly know!

Unless... there was a mole!

This thought flashed like lightning through the minds of both Xu Da and Feng Sheng. They exchanged glances, both seeing a bone-chilling coldness in the other’s eyes.

The news quickly spread throughout the camp, causing an uproar among the soldiers. With three thousand stones of grain burned, it meant they would have to tighten their belts for a long time to come.

When Fan Tong heard the news, he was in his tent wiping down his bone-chopping cleaver. His hand suddenly froze.

White Wolf Pass... fifty miles away...

In his mind, he instantly saw the image of Li Hu, that sneaky shadow vaulting over the camp wall a few days ago. A terrifying suspicion grew wildly within him.

Li Hu was a centurion of the Rui Battalion; even if punished, he knew the camp’s defenses and patrol routes like the back of his hand. If he wanted to leak the information...

Fan Tong’s face turned pale instantly. He dropped the cleaver and ran toward the stables like a madman.

The stables still held the familiar stench, but Li Hu, who should have been in the corner grooming horses, was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is Li Hu?" Fan Tong grabbed a stable hand and demanded sternly.

"Centurion... Centurion Li... he said his stomach was upset and went... went to the latrine. He’s been gone for over an hour... hasn't come back yet..."

Over an hour!

Fan Tong’s heart sank to the bottom. He knew his worst fear had come true.

That damn traitor had run!