Waterpark Inside the Whale
The bell of the massive tanning factory inside the whale echoed loudly. "Work's done for today! Those without overtime, head home!"
Tanner, the tanner from Bostain, smiled at the quitting bell, finished his task, and organized his tools. He wiped clean the scraper used to scrape off the remaining flesh and fat from the leather carved with roughly grained wood, discarded the bowl holding the scraped fat and meat scraps, tidied his workstation, stretched his aching back, and glanced at his colleague working beside him.
"How many did you finish today?"
"Heh heh heh, I knocked out five!"
"Yeah? I got six, so I gotta step it up."
"Tch! My quality's gotta be better!"
When his master relocated to Nautilus, Tanner had no choice but to follow. At first, he was anxious about the new place, but he quickly grew content. He removed his leather work apron, tossed his sweat-soaked clothes into the laundry bin, and headed to the factory's shower room.
In Bostain, where hot water turned ice-cold in an instant, a warm shower was unthinkable. Tanner washed away the contaminants from leather processing clinging to his body with fragrant soap, meticulously scrubbing while watching himself in the mirror.
Tanning reeked terribly to begin with. The rotting smell of blood, fat, and flesh scraps on the hides, and the acrid stench of the chemicals used in processing—it was all foul. No wonder jokes arose about tanners' wives having blocked or missing noses.
But since coming to Nautilus, the smell had lessened for Tanner. Unlike chilly, harsh Bostain where even a single shower was a chore, Nautilus had endless hot water and supplied fragrant soap. Showering right after work with that soap masked the odors, so he no longer stank like before.
"Whew!"
After rinsing with warm water and finishing with cold, Tanner dressed in the changing room and stepped outside. He walked a short distance along the well-paved stone sidewalk to the tram stop, waited briefly, and soon a tram arrived.
It was crowded with waiting passengers, but not unbearably so. With the departure bell, the tram lurched toward Nautilus's second residential block.
Moving faster than any carriage, the tram stopped briefly at the station near his assigned home. Tanner got off, recalled the items his wife asked him to buy while eyeing nearby shops, and remembered last time he'd forgotten and had to come back.
He ducked into the bakery. "Welcome!"
Unlike Bostain, where any bread was a blessing regardless of type, this bakery brimmed with varieties: crusty loaves for stew, stuffed breads with veggies and meat for the lazy cook, and more.
Early leavers had thinned the stock in spots. Tanner spotted his wife's requested bread—two left—and snatched them up, heading straight to the counter.
"Seven dong coins."
The loaves were twice the size of northern bread at half the price. As he reached for payment, he noticed small cookies by the register.
"How much for these?"
"Two dong coins each."
The sugar-scented sweetness reminded him of his daughter at home. On impulse, he grabbed some. "Total's nine dong coins."
Bag in hand with bread and cookies, Tanner headed home with light steps. Smaller than his Bostain house, but he preferred Nautilus's homes.
"Daddy!"
His frail daughter, once bundled in thick furs and waddling sickly, now dashed over in a light cotton dress. Tanner scooped her up.
"Kyahaha!"
Seeing her brighten in the warmth—no more hacking coughs or lethargy—Tanner knew coming to Nautilus was right.
"Here, a gift."
"Whoa, cookies!"
Her eyes sparkled at the sugar-packed treats, but her mother's voice cut in as she reached for one. "No sweets before dinner, right?"
"Hiiing."
His wife took the bread, hugged him, and pecked his cheek. "You washed up well again, huh?"
"Ahem!"
Still young, Tanner cleared his throat to hide his effort—lest she enforce separate beds again—and carried his daughter to the table. Savoring meals and warmth unimaginable in Bostain, he vowed to work hard tomorrow.
Finally joined to Nautilus, Eira handled diplomacy and public safety. Unlike Daiyen buried in paperwork daily or Aurelia's occasional florid reports, Eira's patrols let her hear residents' tales, making her reports engaging reads.
Suhyun, easing Nautilus voyages' boredom by sketching Bostain's underground city or reading Eira's reports, lingered on one part: kids too rowdy in the bathhouse, needing warnings.
If girls are this bad in the women's bath, what's the men's like?
"The men's? Total chaos," said Thomas, Daiyen's subordinate. Dads brought sons post-work, turning it into mayhem. "Kids even throw tantrums refusing to leave."
Suhyun's mind sparked. "How about a waterpark?"
What if he built an Earth-style waterpark in medieval times? Arenas thrilled adults but scared kids—too bloody for medieval-raised children. Playgrounds were scant; next amusement: kids' waterpark.
Telling Daiyen, she rushed over. "What now? Underground city's already tight on budget!"
"That's why we earn more."
Daiyen crossed her arms skeptically at "earn." Suhyun envisioned full aquatic fun: wave pools, lazy rivers, slides, diving spots, surf zones, scuba, fish swims, lifts, kayaks, fishing.
"Stick to top earners first, expand later," Daiyen cut in, capping the budget. Huge sum, but short for his dream park. Scaled to basic local waterpark, Suhyun sulked but designed max-profit.
His gloom lifted—budget optimization felt like a tycoon game. First, lazy river looping key spots. Huge wave pool with graded intensities. Then slides with magic: dolphin-launchers, tube speed-runs bouncing off walls, water bungees into low-tension pools.
Capitalist tricks too: churros/hotdogs/noodle stalls for hungry kids; huts, rentable chairs for parents; BBQ/party rooms with booze. Suhyun's eyes gleamed, summoning reformists for opening prep.
Suhyun's construction inside Nautilus was world-class. With materials, he forged metal frames, melted stone fills—waterpark skeleton instant. Magic waves/currents/circulation/purification: trivial.
Harder: staffing/training. Water play's fun but deadly—drownings yearly demanded lifeguards.
"So master swimming first."
Bostain reformists gaped. "Swimming?" Impossible there—scarce water froze solid; muscular builds sank.
But Suhyun had martial arts.
Water Dog Technique (Su-gu-gong)
Sea dog renamed for ocean park. Swim like a seal in water.
Float Ring Technique (Bu-rung-gong)
Throw tube to drowning victim, swim rescue.
One-Ri Ear (Il-ri-ji-cheong)
Hear drowning struggles from a ri away.
Combined, superior to modern rescuers. Bostain reformists' hell began.
Gathered at deep pool, they stood baffled post-explanation. Suhyun magicked water to sweep them in.
Flailing instinctively, they couldn't fight artificial waves. "Use your arts!"
Basic-trained, new to Water Dog, they screamed inwardly but saw one gulp water and sink—desperately circulated qi. Immature arts failed; all sank.
Drowning's agony tops human suffering. Oxygen-starved nerves force breath—in water, lungs fill, ripping sacs in excruciating pain. Thrashing till blackout, they cursed Suhyun drowning.
Not dead—quick CPR revives. Suhyun fished them out, telekinetically squeezed lungs, massaged hearts.
"Kuhuk!"
Spitting warmed water, gulping sweet air, they trembled in terror or wept joy, hugging survival. Unaware of demon instructor Suhyun.
"What? Back in?" he said, colder than Bostain blizzards.
While reformists trained/rested, Suhyun demoed waterpark to skeptical Daiyen.
In swim trunks awaiting, he sighed at Daiyen's "experience" outfit: medieval loose, thick cover-ups, not curve-hugging bikini he'd hoped—curtain scraps.
"Wh-what?!"
Sighing, Suhyun magicked leftover lifeguard fabric into rashguard top, knee-length skirt, water-repellent undies—frilly, bright, modest.
Daiyen glared, retreated to change. Less revealing than feared, comfy too.
"S-surprisingly easy to move in?"
Her old garb clung wet, restrictive; his repelled water seamlessly. Testing in pool, she grinned, took Suhyun's hand.
"Shall we enjoy your boasted waterpark?"
"Sure—empty today, let's go wild!"