Home/The Ice Age Came? And I Just Got Married?!/ch 24

Chapter 24.

Perhaps no one still knows—except Logan, who went through nine regressions.

Even I, who read the novel, wasn't really sure.

Aiden disliked Logan. Because he was rude. Because he said out loud what others only thought.

Aiden visited Rosebrook about half a year after the ice age began.

He was gathering Winterstones—that was his purpose in coming to Rosebrook.

There, he encountered Logan, who was living in the "Devil's Village."

Surprisingly, Aiden wanted to recruit Logan—purely for his overwhelming combat ability. A crown prince's talent acquisition, you could say.

But Logan refused. Because Aiden moved to prevent human extinction, while Logan desired it.

Aiden immediately classified Logan as an enemy.

He tried to burn down the "Devil's Village" where Logan lived, but it wasn't easy.

Because this village was special.

So Aiden branded the "Devil's Village" as an enemy of the world and incited the remaining humans against it.

Though technically, Logan did want to exterminate humanity—so it wasn't entirely incitement.

We must avoid Aiden as much as possible.

If the protagonist sees you as an enemy, you're instantly classified as a villain.

And then, death is the only outcome.

I thought about ways to keep the protagonist, Aiden, from taking an interest in Logan.

It'd be best if we looked as ordinary as possible, right?

It'd be troublesome if the village seemed special, so I decided to make it look very ordinary on the outside.

If it could be perceived as just another passing village, that would be perfect.

Alright. Let's make Acorn Village an inconspicuous, harmless village.

And we absolutely must survive and bring an end to the ice age—just as humanity did during the First Ice Age.

---

Project: Make Acorn Village Inconspicuous and Harmless ★★★★★

After drawing five stars in my notebook, I grinned. Good—the goal was set.

Still, I need to make it a livable village.

To do that, I had to study the ice age thoroughly.

Amazingly, Logan had collected all the columns I'd written for the newspaper.

Not only that, but he'd gathered every book related to the ice age—the library on the third floor of Eve House was packed with books that could help with survival.

I spent the entire day cooped up in the library studying.

I'd gone through about a third of the materials on the First Ice Age—all thanks to Logan.

It'd be nice to have cows, horses, and reindeer.

Especially horses and reindeer that lived in polar regions—about half a year into the ice age, they began to be observed in the Grandon Kingdom as well.

They were animals that survived in the harsh north, but as the world's seas froze over, they lost their way and migrated south to Grandon.

Of course, Logan had already brought chickens and goats to the village barn.

Knock, knock.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

There was only one person who'd knock on my door in Eve House.

Because only one person lived here with me.

"Come in!"

Click.

As expected, Logan entered.

"So you were here. I hadn't seen you all day."

In his hand was a sweater. He held it out to me.

"Eve, is this mine? The size looks like a man's."

I nodded, put down my pen, and stood up.

"Try it on."

It was my first time knitting clothes, so I'd measured Logan by eye and made it. He looked down at the sweater with a puzzled expression.

Fortunately, it looked better than I'd expected.

Made of thick cream-colored wool, it felt soft to the touch.

Of course, upon closer inspection, a beginner's handiwork was visible everywhere.

The left sleeve was slightly longer than the right, and the collar was a little crooked.

Some stitches were too tight, others too loose.

But that only gave it the warmth unique to handmade items.

On the chest, a clumsy acorn pattern was embroidered.

Anyone could tell it was a first attempt.

Still, it looked warm enough to survive a harsh winter.

"Hmm. At least it doesn't look like it'll fall apart while wearing it."

At my muttering, Logan pointed at the acorn with a peculiar expression.

"...This is for me? There's an acorn on the chest."

"What about it?"

"There's an acorn on my chest."

"Yeah. Cute, isn't it?"

Logan stared at me as if lost for words.

What's wrong with an acorn? It's the symbol of our village.

He raised both hands in surrender.

"I'll try it on."

"Now?"

"Yeah."

He took off his coat, then the thick sweater underneath. Beneath that, he wore a linen shirt with a wool vest over it.

He removed the wool vest and put on the acorn sweater—it seemed a little tight around his arms and shoulders.

Hmm.

But the acorn I'd painstakingly knitted sat nicely on his chest, so I was satisfied.

It was my first time adding a pattern like this—I'd done a great job.

"Uncomfortable?"

"A bit small. Can you alter it to this size?"

Logan took my hand and placed it on his forearm. We'd already spent nights skin-to-skin, so I knew just how impressive his muscles were.

So I felt a little deflated.

"It really is quite tight. Altering it would be hard—I'll just knit you a new one. Actually, this was my first completed sweater. I'll give it to Marcus instead—he's not as big as you."

At my answer, Logan fell silent.

Why wasn't he saying anything?

I looked up, puzzled—and saw Logan staring expressionlessly at the acorn sweater.

"Logan, what's wrong?"

"I'll wear it."

"Huh?"

"You said it was your first."

"R-Right. It is."

"Eve, I should have all your firsts. Since I'm your husband."

Anyone overhearing would seriously misunderstand.

Anyway, from that day on, Logan wore nothing but the acorn sweater.

Unable to stand the sight, Marcus remarked,

"That acorn looks too fat—is that right?"

"You don't have to point that out, Senior. Everyone knows but stays quiet."

"Junior, you're the worst."

I didn't know what was so bad. I was just proud—Logan seemed to like my acorn sweater.

I was glad I'd kept up with knitting.

"Senior, should I knit one for you too?"

"If it has an acorn pattern, I'll pass."

"Then forget it."

I didn't ask twice.

Marcus looked at me with a flustered expression, but Charlotte entered and spoke to me just then.

At that moment, the cranky squirrel threw an acorn at Marcus's head—probably because he'd disrespected acorns.

---

Marcus, who had gone scouting with Logan, brought back a phonograph from the railway station office—the railway director's phonograph.

Yes. A phonograph. One that might have someone's voice recorded on it.

We all gathered in the greenhouse and stared at the phonograph with tense expressions, curious about what might be recorded.

Finally, Marcus wound the phonograph's spring.

Crank.

The cylinder began to turn slowly.

After a moment—

"...This is... Rosebrook... Central Station..."

The voice was crackly, interspersed with static.

Then, a clearer voice followed.

"To anyone listening to this record—remember this. July 10, 1917. Contact with the capital, Avrid, has been lost."

July 10, 1917—the very day the ice age struck.

Crank.

The sound of the cylinder turning hummed lowly.

"July 13, 1917. Rosebrook Central Station is now closed. Due to blizzards, all northern routes have ceased operation. Currently, 417 passengers are stranded at the station."

A pause.

The man in the recording seemed to be writing something.

Scratch.

Scratch.

The faint sound of a nib scraping paper was audible.

"July 15, 1917. Outside temperatures are plummeting rapidly. Precise measurement is impossible, but it is estimated to have dropped below minus fifty degrees."

This time, the voice trembled slightly.

"Current survivors on the train: seventeen."

Crank.

The cylinder skipped once.

"Out of 417 passengers, 400 are dead."

After those words, silence reigned for a long time.

As if even the person recording didn't know what more to say.

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