Chapter 372: Luxury Travel (3)
Chapter 372: Luxury Travel (3)
People often say The Sea breeze is refreshing, but to be honest, I still don't quite understand what that’s supposed to feel like.
Based on the context people usually use it in, it seems to mean a wind that blows incessantly across a wide-open space…
When you actually go out to sea, the wind does blow constantly, and it lacks the stuffiness created by human presence. I can combine the words and imagine the meaning, but picturing the actual scenery it describes in my mind is difficult for me.
I don't have a single good memory of the ocean.
To me, The Sea is a damp, stinging place.
A place where the briny, fishy scent of the wind is freshly laced with the metallic tang of iron; where the water that constantly douses you doesn't wash you clean, but leaves behind a residue of salt that grates on your nerves.
A place where the surface offers no solid ground to stand on, an unstable and cold, sharp edge that robs others of their warmth and the very possibility of being alive.
That is The Sea to me. An abyss-like place that has swallowed countless people and hides monsters that even now glare up at us from the deep.
Since that is my image of the ocean, it’s hard for me to conjure any positive emotions regarding it.
Still, this time, it might not be all that bad.
Because no one died.
Well, to be precise, there were no fatalities. There are victims whose arms or legs were pulverized, some who were knocked unconscious by the weight of corpses, and one who was fried to a crisp by electricity and suffered full-body burns.
For the record, the one with the full-body burns is Baek Si-hyun.
Apparently, she fried herself while struggling to escape the Nautilus’s tentacles…
Regardless of her screaming, all those with serious injuries are Heroes, so their physical damage isn't a major issue.
The important thing is civilian casualties and injuries…
As for that, the shelters in the evacuation zones—which held firm even as the massive monster corpse slammed into the Titanic II and sent it straight to the bottom—saved the day.
Zero deaths. Most injuries were just sprained ankles or bruises from the evacuation zones being shaken up.
The Spirits likely worked behind the scenes, but the shelters themselves were built as tough as the catalog ads claimed, leading to this outcome.
My thanks to the people who built, owned, and operated the Titanic II. I’ll never know who they are now that the catalog is lost, but at least they didn't line their pockets with the money meant for the shelters.
It’s a tragic natural disaster that the Titanic II lived up to its name and sank, but if the shelters hadn't held, it would have been a man-made disaster from that point on.
Anyway, all’s well that ends without victims.
However, a new problem has arisen.
Where are we right now?
The middle of the Atlantic Ocean.
In other words, it’s going to take some time for the Management Bureau, a cargo ship, or anyone else to come rescue us.
Normally, in a maritime accident like this, a ship is supposed to stay afloat for at least a few hours before sinking.
But what happened to our ship?
Except for the shelters, it was completely destroyed and sank into The Sea.
It wasn't just destroyed; it was crushed by the massive weight of a monster's corpse. It didn't last a few hours—it didn't even last a few minutes before it went under.
Still, the shelters are safe, aren't they?
These shelters were built with Otherworldly Technology, designed to navigate independently or at least stay afloat in case of such emergencies. They are safety measures that became obsessively sophisticated after the world was distorted.
…Under normal circumstances, that is.
Here, a new fact comes to light—one I didn't know then but learned later.
The shelters are connected to the ship.
It’s only natural, as the precision instruments inside—like the Protective Barrier generators and reality anchors—consume massive amounts of energy.
So, until an incident occurs, the shelter relies on the ship's energy to hold out. When the ship can no longer sustain itself, the shelter is supposed to abandon the ship and make an emergency escape.
And the shelter needs time to disconnect from the ship.
It would be a disaster if it just popped off at the slightest nudge.
The time required to release the safety locks, start the emergency generators inside the shelter, and disconnect everything tied to the ship is about ten minutes.
A ship is a massive steel fortress on The Sea. Even if an average monster launched a full-scale attack, it would take a long time to sink it. Ten minutes should have been more than enough.
In fact, if something can sink a ship in less than ten minutes, normally nothing, not even a shelter, would survive.
…But that wasn't the case this time.
Though it was defeated quite easily, in terms of pure size, that was a Giant Monster that ranked in the top ten.
When that thing slammed into the ship, the vessel was sent to its watery grave in less than an hour.
Well, it couldn't be helped.
No matter how many safety measures you prepare, there’s no answer when an event so far beyond expectations occurs.
Even for a super-luxury ship with multiple bulkheads to prevent flooding and shock absorbers.
If a mass as heavy as the ship itself slams directly down on top of it, those safety measures become meaningless.
So, having lost the ship and even the shelters, how are we currently floating in the ocean?
The answer is simple.
There is no ship, and there are no shelters.
That leaves only one massive object remaining.
"Where else would we be? We're on the corpse of that damn nautilus bastard."
No matter how hard I try to frame it pleasantly in my head, there’s just no way.
Please, Management Bureau kids. Come rescue me quickly.
* * *
Drifting at sea. It’s a scene that carries a certain romanticism.
As seen with that Robinson guy, survival stories are popular steady-sellers.
If our lives weren't actually on the line, and if we knew the Management Bureau was coming to save us soon, we might even be able to enjoy it.
If only we weren't on top of a corpse reeking of rotting fish.
"I'm gonna die."
Pop.
I muttered that as I swung my hammer at a grotesque creature that wriggled out.
It was a creature with a long, squirming body of an ambiguous color, closer to gray than white.
A tentacle that evoked instinctive revulsion, crawling out of the corpse as if it had been startled into fleeing its host upon its death.
…Actually, let’s stop.
The damn parasites are popping out one by one.
I’m not sure if I should even call something the size of a human with sharp spikes on its mouth a "parasite," but there it is.
The Nautilus is huge, so I guess its parasites are huge too.
That’s the only way I can wrap my head around this situation.
Hahaha.
Anyway, this is the situation we’re in.
Since the shelters sank, the Heroes moved the passengers onto the corpse floating in The Sea.
And so, we are waiting for rescue on top of a carcass.
…I didn't expect parasites to start popping out, though.
Thus began the second round.
Fortunately, the number of parasites wasn't that high, so it was more like pest control than a real battle.
There aren't many Heroes patrolling the perimeter like me; most, including Han A-bin, are busy running around trying to reassure the passengers.
They treat minor wounds and distribute relief supplies salvaged from The Sea.
The civilians feel safe just knowing that the strong Heroes who uphold world peace are by their side.
Even if they are in the miserable position of sitting on a blood-soaked corpse, waiting for rescue.
Victim mental care.
Even if there’s no fighting, it’s a duty a Hero must fulfill.
…Though I have no idea what Baek Si-hyun is thinking, putting on a magic show in the middle of all this.
It’s eccentric, but hearing laughter carry on the wind suggests the mental care is going well.
She’s different from me.
A bitter smile forms on my lips.
Because I can't do that.
Comforting victims.
How long has it been since I moved away from that?
The appearance of a Young Girl.
To others, it’s not a reliable sight.
Even if they recognize me as a Hero, it’s a self-evident fact that someone smaller than themselves doesn't look dependable.
That’s part of why I’m not used to it—I don't often engage in such relief activities.
But there’s a more fundamental reason.
An expressionless girl, drenched in flesh and blood, reeking of death.
Such a being is alienated from ordinary daily life.
Even if such a being opens her mouth to tell them to rest easy, they cannot believe it.
Even if I save a child and force a smile, telling them it’s okay now.
They don't see my smile; they react to the smell of blood and flesh clinging to me and sink into terror.
Because I have experienced every cruelty imaginable. My expressionless face, which says this much is nothing, frightens them.
That is the reason.
Because I know well what I can and cannot do, I’m handling the parasite disposal, which has few volunteers.
On top of the undamaged shell.
A place where you don't feel the squelch of flesh as you walk, where the stench of rot is faint—focusing on relief efforts there to build up one's reputation.
Or, in a place where the shell is heavily damaged, reeking of every foul odor, where every step brings a sickening, squelching sensation—cutting down disgusting enemies in advance. A job no one recognizes, with no reward and no sense of accomplishment.
Forget the new generation of Heroes who don't act like Heroes; even veteran Heroes who have seen it all would usually choose the former.
So, I have no complaints about this situation.
As I thought earlier, relief work is a perfectly Heroic act.
Having finished that thought.
I looked away from the survivor camp where laughter was heard and stretched.
Well then. Shall I do another round?
Squelch.
The moment I lifted my hammer, which was buried in the carrion.
Kiiiing.
I heard a faint sound.
A sound so small it could have been an hallucination.
However, I didn't let my guard down and turned my head.
The place the sound came from.
Beyond my line of sight.
At the very edge of the corpse.
There, a faint power was gathering.
Not the Heroes on patrol like me.
Not the Heroes performing relief work.
A change that no one else noticed.
A distortion of space reflected in my vision.
Something was crossing over through space.
First of all, it wasn't the Management Bureau or a Hero flying in after hearing the news.
If it were them, they wouldn't need to hide their power.
They would make a flashy entrance to reassure the civilians.
So, I briefly wondered if it was a Spirit again, naturally camouflaging itself as if it belonged there.
But no.
That is an Otherworldly Being.
A Spirit hiding its power is a natural camouflage, as if it were always there.
The Otherworldly Power unfolding over there is a technical camouflage, hiding the fact that something is happening.
That difference leads me to the conclusion that some kind of Otherworldly Being is crossing over.
But what kind of being would come here?
On top of the corpse of a Giant Monster.
There are no elements here that should have a connection to any such being.
Unless… what if it wasn't the Nautilus that broke the seal?
The Spirit only said the seal had been partially broken.
Naturally, I thought the Nautilus had done it, but thinking about it now, there’s a possibility that an external entity intervened.
Naturally, such an entity would be an Otherworldly Being trying to use the Nautilus.
If so, it makes sense for them to come here to survey the situation.
Even if the plan failed, they could come for a covert observation to gather information, couldn't they?
In other words, the one crossing over secretly over there is involved in this incident.
I thought this far and racked my brain for other possibilities.
But no matter how much I thought, nothing else came to mind, so I quickly reached a conclusion.
If another battle breaks out here, unrest will spread.
Let’s see. Shall I handle this quietly?
I sprinted across the carcass.
Hammer raised, intending to annihilate The Enemy in a single blow.
The Enemy is crossing over.
An Otherworldly Being thoroughly hiding its presence, pretending not to be there. The mastermind behind this whole ordeal.
However, such petty tricks didn't work on me, as I had already pinpointed the target.
I immediately gauged The Enemy’s ability.
I failed to identify their appearance, perhaps due to a cloaking ability, but I could sense the total amount of their power.
Humanoid. Probably high A-Rank.
Size, slightly larger than me.
Okay. It’s confirmed.
This bastard is the culprit.
High A-Rank Mutants aren't exactly common; they’re rarer than lottery winners. For one to show up in a place like this?
Definitely the mastermind.
Then, die.
Just as I was about to swing down with that thought.
Perhaps startled by sensing my attack.
The Enemy’s technique for hiding their presence faltered for a moment.
"…Huh?"
For some reason, I felt like the opponent's form was someone I knew.
Glowing, floating in the air, in the shape of a boy.
…Seini?
Startled, I forced mana into my arms and twisted The Hammer’s path.
Crack.
At the cost of my left arm shattering.
Thud.
The Hammer narrowly grazed the side of the Mutant's head.
"…Huh?"
The Mutant, who had barely escaped with his life, stared at me blankly with an expression that said he had no idea what was going on.
"…Eh? Ah? Lord Ha-ram? What?"
His pupils shook violently as he looked at The Hammer embedded next to him.
…It really is Seini.
"Did I almost die just now? Right now? No, more importantly, why are you here?"
He protested to me in a flustered manner.
"That’s what I want to ask. Why are you here?"
Depending on your answer, you might still die.
I’m reserving judgment for now.
As I thought that and forced a smile while waiting for his next words.
"Hmm? Isn't it obvious? I came to rescue the castaways."
Seini spoke with a look of utter confusion, as if he were the one who didn't understand.
"What are you talking about? Why would you guys come here? You want to get caught and beaten up by the Management Bureau?"
The Management Bureau is obviously coming, and you came for relief work?
When there’s no need for you to be here?
Be honest about why you’re really here.
I know you have some dark plan.
I thought that, but the answer that came back was beyond anything I imagined.
"I am worried about that, but as the shipowner, I have a responsibility to fulfill. I’ll handle it discreetly so the Management Bureau doesn't find out."
Seini misunderstood my question and babbled about the Management Bureau instead of what I was actually curious about, but one word stood out.
"…Shipowner?"
"Yes."
"What ship?"
"Did you board without knowing? The Titanic II is owned by me. Well, by our company."
I had just heard something insane.