3. Deputy Leader Ella (3)
3. Deputy Leader Ella (3)
The night had deepened.
I sat by the cabin window, letting the river wind wash over me.
Hair still unfamiliar in its length tickled my face.
The sound of paddle wheels churning water.
The racket rising from the engine room.
The intermittent call of the boat's horn.
The vessel cruised slowly, just quietly enough not to disturb the passengers' sleep.
On a river like this, the rule was to tie up at the bank and rest once the sun went down.
But with an awkward distance still to our destination, we pressed on tonight to cover a little more ground.
I pulled up my Status Window to check the time.
Damn. Another hour gone already.
Do I have to drink another cup?
This quest is a real pain in the ass.
On the desk sat the tea Yurakne had bottled for me.
I'd asked her for it in advance — I couldn't summon her at this hour.
I poured the tea into my cup.
"Ugh."
My expression as I stared down at the cup—
Ah, I was smiling, of course.
The Smiling Man always smiles.
But...
my heart wasn't in it.
Even the aroma of the tea had grown nauseating.
I'd downed nearly twenty cups just today.
Blech.
Honestly, those sweet, chilled fruit drinks the Viscountess had served were far more to my taste.
I felt guilty toward Yurakne, who put such care into brewing it, but I was drinking this strictly out of obligation.
My goal wasn't enjoying the tea — it was the act of drinking itself.
-You really do love tea, Troupe Leader!
Every time I drank, Yurakne would beam beside me.
I could hardly tell her, to her face, that I didn't actually like it.
All I could do was nod and agree.
In moments like this, The Smiling Man was a blessing.
It spared me from showing a sour grimace or the forced gulping.
There was a reason I'd been dutifully chugging tea I didn't even like.
'Member Management.'
The TTT interface materialized before my eyes.
From the list of ten troupe members, I called up Yurakne's entry in the air.
Name: Yurakne
Age: 26
Affection level: 23 (Next Reward: Affection level 30)
Title: Spider Woman
Role: General Acrobat
Trait
: [Yurakne's Devotion]
Her Affection level had climbed all the way to 23, I noted.
I'd switched off real-time notifications because the endless stream of minor messages was annoying. It seemed the number had kept ticking up without me noticing.
The day before the ship arrived, Yurakne's Affection level had surpassed 15.
After the incident at the fish market, her Affection level rose by one point every day even when I did nothing.
On nights we took a stroll together, it sometimes went up by two.
Compared to the other members, whose Affection levels were stuck like bricks, this was a welcome change.
[Yurakne's Affection level has increased by 2. As a reward for reaching Affection level 15, <Yurakne's Devotion> has been granted to Yurakne. Current Affection level: 16 (Next Reward: Affection level 30)]
Trait: Yurakne's Devotion
Target: Tea personally brewed by Yurakne
Effect: Drinking the tea increases Wonderstein's three basic abilities by 0% for 1 hour.
Requirement: Yurakne's Affection level 15
Drinking tea brewed by Yurakne... increases my abilities for one hour...?
Ah.
This was a cooking buff trait.
I recalled a few support characters with similar supplementary abilities.
'Ordo the Drinker' always mixed a bomb cocktail at camp; drinking it granted fear immunity.
'Fried the Poet' brewed a single cup of drip coffee a day that fully restored mana.
'Chef Marcone' would turn gathered ingredients into various buff dishes — the quintessential cooking-buff support.
I scrutinized the trait description again and focused on the '0%' figure.
Ah. A growth-type trait.
As if on cue, a message popped up in the notification window.
*Sub Quest - Yurakne's Devotion
: Yurakne pours increasingly deeper devotion into every cup you drink.
Completion Condition
: Drink 1,000 cups of tea personally brewed by Yurakne (with at least a 1-hour interval between cups).
Success Reward
: [Yurakne's Devotion] +0.1% per cup
Failure Penalty
: None
For an early-unlock reward, 'Yurakne's Devotion' was remarkably good.
At 0.1% per cup, 1,000 cups would total a full 100%.
Whenever I needed a stat inflation, drinking her tea could double my abilities.
But as a growth-type trait, I couldn't tap into its full power the moment I got it.
I had to nurture it by completing the sub-quest.
That was why.
Why I asked Yurakne for tea every day.
Thanks to that, I'd spent the last four days sick of tea and chugging it anyway.
I was practically sloshing with the stuff.
Still, all that diligent drinking finally paid off today—I'd broken the 50-cup mark.
Yurakne's Devotion now boosted my abilities by 5%.
Name: Frank Wonderstein
Age: 27
Role: BioMancer
-Devolut: (22/30)
-Muscle Strength: 2.0 (+0.1 Yurakne's Devotion) (Jock -> Jock Upperclassman)
-Tissue Hardness: 2.0 (+0.1 Yurakne's Devotion) (Leather Armor -> Cowhide Armor)
-Cell Regeneration: 3.0 (+0.15 Yurakne's Devotion) (Brisk Jog -> Sprint)
Traits
: [The Smiling Man], [Rapid Rigidity]
The effect was negligible right now, but once I cleared the whole quest and hit +100%, it would be a significant help.
At this pace, I'd finish the quest in about two months, at most...
Bleep.
Bleep.
Bleep.
Hm?
A flurry of message alerts.
Had I subconsciously requested something from the Evolution Lab again?
I tilted my head as I read the rising notifications.
[Ella's Affection level is...]
[Ella's Affection level is...]
[Ella's Affection level is...]
[Ella's Affection level is...]
What the hell are you doing?
***
A steamboat has no sails.
But it still possessed something that served a similar purpose to a mast.
A great column rising from the vessel's center: the smokestack.
The flag mounted on it declared the ship's identity. The ladder fixed to its side allowed one to climb and survey the distance. Its height and girth symbolized the scale of power the ship could produce.
A smokestack belching hot brown fumes.
It was directly linked to the engine room — the heart of the steamboat.
The engine room at night was less hot and less loud than during the day.
The ship was cruising at low speed for the sake of the passengers' sleep.
The only people inside were a young assistant engineer and a single stoker.
The stoker hummed a tune as he monitored the furnace. The assistant engineer dozed in a corner chair, head bobbing.
Ding-a-ling.
A bell suspended from the center of the engine room rang.
The drowsing assistant engineer shot upright.
A signal from the bridge.
He approached the pipe beside the bell.
The pipe was a voice tube, a device for transmitting sound.
The assistant opened the lid and pressed his ear to it.
A voice reached him.
It belonged to the navigator standing night watch on the bridge.
The navigator ordered him to increase speed a little.
The assistant checked the engine's current pace, then instructed the stoker on how much coal to add. While the stoker shoveled coal into the furnace, the assistant stared into the flames for a moment — then began nodding off again.
The fresh coal caught fire, flames leaping high.
Older boiler designs used a single massive vat to heat the steam chamber. The latest models employed heating coils, far more efficient than warming the entire chamber at once. Dozens of coils transmitted heat that rapidly brought the water to a boil.
The high-pressure steam thus formed traveled through pipes to the cylinders.
Old-style steam engines simply shoved the erupting steam straight into a single cylinder.
A brutish method.
The counterforce of steam pressure made accidents far more likely, and massive amounts of energy were wasted through friction and recoil.
The newest engines were different.
Some of the steam entering the first cylinder was naturally ejected toward the next one due to the pressure. That expelled steam drove the second cylinder, and from there, a portion bled into the third.
Air by nature moves from confined spaces into open ones.
By making the first cylinder the smallest and each successive one larger, they created a path for the steam to follow.
The three cylinders turned the engine shaft through an alternating rhythm of push and pull.
It resembled the way oarsmen were arranged on the old galleys.
Three men worked a single large oar — the smallest, most compact man sat innermost; the tallest with the longest reach sat outermost.
When the two pushed, the man in the middle pulled; when the two pulled, the man in the middle pushed. Because human strength relies on body weight, pushing was easier than pulling. Seating the oarsmen in alternating positions and blending their pushing power made for a far more stable propulsion.
Of course, the three cylinders alternating had nothing to do with any of that.
It simply worked out that way in the design.
As the shaft turned, the paddle wheel pushed against the water, and the ship moved forward.
In a corner of the engine room, a single rat watched the entire process.
But a rat could not comprehend such engineering.
Nor could the girl looking through the rat's eyes.
She'd only paused to observe because the three cylinders, thick as logs, cycling in smooth rhythm, reminded her of the circus's triplet members.
If those three ever synced up like that, they'd have a much easier time of it.
They're always squabbling over who's in charge.
The rat cocked its head.
For a while now, its master's voice had been echoing inside its skull.
Even with the master nowhere nearby, it felt as though she were following it everywhere.
When the rat fidgeted, Ella's field of vision shifted with it.
She had entered Jjiksun's body and was looking at the world through Jjiksun's eyes.
Her real body was at this moment seated in a cabin up above, eyes shut motionless.
A mysterious phenomenon, almost like magic.
Performers called it 'Inspira.'
Inspira was the power bestowed by Kirkeus, god of jesters and acrobats, upon the talented.
A magician who walked on air.
A dancer who whirled through flames.
A strongman who crunched stones between his teeth.
All world-renowned acrobats had received Kirkeus's grace.
The Kiev Orthodox Church dismissed Kirkeus as a trivial lesser god, but among those in the performing arts, receiving Kirkeus was a once-in-a-lifetime honor.
Ella had felt the same, once.
A blessing that only the rarest few acrobats ever received.
She had dreamed of the day she would claim a dazzling Inspira.
But now that she had actually awakened it, her emotions were a storm.
A few days earlier, after wrapping up the successful performance at Axville, Ella had been brimming with a sense of achievement.
-Ella, join another team. You're dead weight.
-Yeah. Animals like rats or pigeons can't draw a crowd.
-Because of you, our team's revenue tanked this month.
Barely a year ago, she'd ranked near the bottom in the circus school recruitment bids.
Now she was formally the Deputy Leader of a circus troupe, the director of a full act, the promoter of an entire show.
She was walking the path she'd always dreamed of.
For that, perhaps she owed Wonderstein her gratitude.
The moment that absurd thought surfaced—
A flash pierced through her mind.
It felt like a revelation.
'Call the name of the friend you have tamed three times in your heart. Then you shall see the world through that friend's eyes, and hear the world through that friend's ears.'
The instant she heard that voice, tears spilled down her cheeks.
Her master had once described the moment he received Kirkeus.
A sensation of floating, of rapture, a shudder...
A profound fulfillment beyond words flooding through every limb.
What Ella felt now was the same.
Ah, wonderful. So wonderful.
This was the blessing bestowed by the god of the circus.
Inspira.
The ability she tested worked beautifully.
She looked up at herself through a rat's gaze, then looked down at herself through a pigeon's.
To share such communion with the beasts she'd tamed herself!
For a trainer, this was profound joy.
She wanted to show her friends.
What she had achieved.
To boast about how she'd left school and made it all the way here...
to boast...
The smile gradually faded from Ella's lips.
Her expression froze over, lightning-fast.
Fear and fury bled outward.
Her body trembled.
Show... my friends...?
My friends are...
mostly...
In a moment that should have been the height of glory, Ella felt a gut-wrenching self-loathing.
Her heart sank cold and still.
Dozens of Wonderstein's mouths materialized around her.
All at once, they sneered at her.
Are you happy, Miss Ella?
Are you happy, Miss Ella?
Are you happy, Miss Ella?
Are you happy, Miss Ella?
How...
How did you get this far, you ask?
Ha.
Hahaha.
You're going to tell them?
Hm?
You're going to boast?
In front of your friends' graves...?
Ha.
You're trash.
Trash.
You thought it was fine, didn't you?
Thought it was okay?
Coming on this trip with Wonderstein.
Glad to be out of that suffocating school.
Ah, right.
You didn't mean it.
But you still thought it.
Even just for a moment.
You thought it was okay.
Tears welled up without warning.
A sob clawed its way up her throat.
Corpses. Monsters. Corpses. Monsters.
The villagers.
Her friends.
The merchants.
Dead. All dead except a handful.
Sorry.
Sorry.
I'm so sorry.
To all of you who called a selfish person like me a friend — I'm so sorry.
Hatred for Wonderstein.
Disgust for herself.
Regret for time already gone.
Everything swirled together.
In that instant, the Inspira that had descended upon her vanished.
Kirkeus had withdrawn his blessing.
Why?
Because he was disappointed in her?
If anything, she felt lighter.
Yes. I'm not worthy.
Even the god knows it.
She set her worries aside. For barely a few hours.
Then Inspira returned to her.
Ella grew agitated, sank back into self-blame and fury, and Inspira abandoned her once more.
This had been repeating for days now.