Tobi's Tearful Send-Off
Even after Tobi went to bed that night, even after the sun rose the next day, and even after breakfast was laid out and eaten, he said nothing at all. Naturally, Jin-cheol's heart wasn't in a good place either. Like all the other Kampoeni, but especially so with Tobi—he was an endearing little guy. The kid had pulled him from the riverbank where he'd been tossed like trash and brought him back to the village. And while he'd stayed here, Tobi had taught him the language without a single sign of annoyance.
Jin-cheol felt grateful to Atukai and all the Kampoeni. But Tobi stood out among them, and with the bond they'd built over time, he was now as dear to him as the old squadmates he'd never see again. He couldn't just part ways like this. So when he approached first to soothe the boy, Tobi spotted him coming and bolted, scampering off behind a hut.
"…"
"Heh heh. Looks like Tobi's pretty pissed."
"…Yeah."
A bitter smile lingered on Jin-cheol's lips. Partings were familiar. But compared to the farewells on the battlefield, this one was better by far. At least no one had died.
"Still, he'll show up by the time you're boarding. He's mad at you, not hating you."
"I hope that's true."
Atukai gazed at Tobi, who was fussing with packing gear from a distance, then clapped his palms together sharply.
"Well, looks like the Baika merchants are arriving right on time."
"Pardon?"
To Jin-cheol's questioning echo, Atukai silently pointed upriver. Following that cute, furry little finger along the winding river, Jin-cheol spotted a massive ship creeping slowly into view from afar. A Baika vessel.
"Whoa… that's a Baika merchant ship…"
"Pretty big, huh?"
Pretty big was an understatement. To Jin-cheol's eyes, it dwarfed any small cruise liner back home. Even from this distance, it filled one side of the river with an imposing presence as it approached. He'd imagined some wooden sailing ship, so the modern freighter-like sight distracted him completely, pushing thoughts of Tobi aside.
"Those sails?"
"Sails? Who knows. Ask them when they get here."
The Baika ship shared one thing with sailing vessels: enormous steel plates rigged like sails in the center, giving it the look of an ironclad galleon.
Once it appeared, the ship closed in fast. The sluggish pace had been an illusion of distance and size.
"Whoa…"
Up close, it loomed even larger. As expected, it was made of steel plates, not wood, with faint rust spots here and there from age. A low thrum pulsed from inside—probably engines. Bustling noise came from the deck above.
Jin-cheol squinted at it. The blinding morning sun turned the figures on deck into dark silhouettes.
The ship slowed with surprising smoothness and sidled up to the dock. Ropes dropped from the upper deck with a thud, and someone shimmied down them to the pier.
The moment Jin-cheol saw the face, his hand snapped to the sword hilt at his belt.
"What the fuck. Why the hell are they here?"
"Hmph."
The one snorting roughly was a red-skinned Olrog. The one who'd come down stared at Jin-cheol with a gloomy expression. If not for Atukai grabbing his hand, Jin-cheol would've drawn and swung already.
"…Why stop me?"
"That Olrog's no threat. Not a 'wandering Olrog.'"
"Huh?"
Atukai offered no more explanation, just pointed silently. Following his hand, Jin-cheol saw the Olrog shuffling toward the stacked food sacks on the dock. It paid no mind to him or the nearby Kampoeni.
"What the…"
As Jin-cheol hesitated awkwardly, another Olrog descended from the deck. The pair headed to the Kampoeni's piled cargo, checking ropes and adjusting loads.
It didn't take long to figure out what they were doing. A clanking rumble echoed from the deck as a steel crane arm swung out, a hook dangling from its end like a fishing line.
"A crane…"
The Olrogs had come down to hook the cargo to it. Relaxing his stance, Jin-cheol spotted the collars around their necks. Intricate metal clusters dangling from them clashed with their near-naked loincloths.
Those bomb collars or what?
"Olrogs are violent, but they value their own lives. Feed 'em well, and the simpleminded brutes do as told. That's why they wear those collars for menial labor—they're damn useful. A race made for slavery, you might say."
The unfamiliar voice was clear and refined. Turning, Jin-cheol saw a figure descending slowly on a rope ladder. Glossy, dark-blue skin gleamed wetly, showing only eyes, ears, and a bald head. A mask covered nose, mouth, and neck—like a detached respirator from a gas mask. Below: a black coat, knee-high leather boots. Pants, gloves, all black; only a glimpse of white shirt inside.
Overall, like a fishy gentleman in a tweed cap swapped for a modded gas mask.
Stepping off with stiff poise, its nictitating membrane blinked sideways. Not a reptile—what the hell is that?
He spoke.
"Long time, Atukai. Keeping well?"
"We're always fine. And you, Captain Romuto? Been well?"
"This trading run, cargo was light. Went all the way to Sandesiya and back—without your goods, I'd have taken a loss. Lucky a special passenger filled the gap midway, or it'd have been disaster."
"Ah, is that so? So cabins are full?"
"No, we can take one or two more."
His gaze drifted naturally to Jin-cheol. Staring blankly, Jin-cheol flinched. Those moist fish eyes staring straight on felt uncanny.
"First time seeing you. Introduce us, Atukai?"
"Ah, this is Jin-cheol of the Kang clan. Savior of our village children, guardian who drove off forest beasts, and above all, a precious friend."
"Hey, come on, not that much…"
The overt praise left Jin-cheol awkward. But Atukai grinned.
"All true, isn't it? And he asked nothing in return. You're the !@#$@ Mother Tree sent us, no doubt."
"What's that? First I've heard the word."
"Really? Tobi must've skipped it. You'll learn in time. Ah, introductions both ways?"
Atukai gestured to the Baika.
"This is Captain Romuto. As you see, Baika folk. Longtime trading partner—always fair deals, fetches what we need from afar. Hope he becomes a good friend to you too."
"Captain Romuto Quaibek."
Romuto extended a hand, introducing himself. Handshakes universal? Jin-cheol shook it naturally. Romuto's eyes flicked to the grip.
"Kang Jin-cheol."
"Kang clan. New to me. Origin?"
"Origin? Why?"
"I've traded far, met many races—but you're unfamiliar. Clansfolk gauge each other's standing, of course."
Standing? What, is this guy nobility?
Jin-cheol answered anyway.
"Uh, Korea. Kinda far off."
"…Korea?"
"Don't know it?"
Romuto was a head shorter. He peered up with damp eyes.
"Afraid my knowledge is limited—first time hearing the name. Fluent in Kampoeni, but other tongues? Esai, maybe Lavito?"
"Korean, so Korean too. But fish-head, what's with the stare? Got a problem? Speak plain—head already hurts from all this new lingo."
Jin-cheol grinned, slipping in Korean. Romuto tilted his head—the words too alien. Then his eyes narrowed, amused.
"Unique accent. Old Whale Country dialect? Or northern Esai? What'd you say?"
"Nice to meet you, let's get along."
"I see. We'll see about that."
What the fuck. Sneaky prick.
Jin-cheol kept a mild smile. Years kissing ass to asshole officers? Child's play.
Then a clang from the crane; the deck Olrog bellowed "Whoa!" Cargo rising—warning to clear. The clustered Kampoeni scattered, watching blankly as it hoisted up. Like puppies at a spectacle.
Atukai spoke.
"Jin-cheol."
"Yes, Atukai."
"Go say your goodbyes. Not planning to sneak off without a word?"
"Can't board without paying fare, right?"
"Don't worry. I'll talk to the captain. You just greet the crew."
Jin-cheol nodded after a pause.
"…Thanks. Be right back."
Departure time closing in. Jin-cheol nodded to Atukai and Romuto, then approached the huddle of Kampoeni watching the crane.
"Jin-cheol! Look at that! So cool!"
"Never seen one before?"
"Hee hee, first time tagging along."
Chakai scratched his head shyly. Real kid, this one.
Then Jin-cheol spotted Dambha's stiff face. The boy's eyes fixed on an Olrog below the crane, gesturing wildly like a site grunt.
Jin-cheol's hand covered Dambha's head.
"…Jin-cheol?"
"Don't worry. If those fuckers charge to eat you, I'll rip their throats out."
A shy smile bloomed on the boy's face.
"…Like those guys the other day?"
"Yeah, just like."
"Hee hee…"
Stroking the giggling boy, others swarmed, chattering around him.
"Jin-cheol! You leaving now? For real?"
"Coming back, right?"
"Bye, Jin-cheol! Thanks for saving the kids! Really!"
"Jin-cheol! You call this baba-na, right? Here, take it!"
Banana, not baba-na. Jin-cheol chuckled, taking the bunch.
Fluffy munchkins circling him, babbling—it was straight out of a kids' cartoon. Watching their innocent chatter oddly recalled his old squad searching for him. These little furballs way cuter than those creeps, though.
Then he realized one was missing.
"Where's Tobi?"
"Tobi? He's been sulky since earlier. Said to tell you he's gone if you asked."
"…I see."
His pack grew fast: bananas, rice and beans "for the road," carved wooden bracelets, feathered bead necklaces, a bolt of soft unknown fabric. Then a bag for it all. From one small bundle to a pack his size—Jin-cheol grinned. Felt like leaving grandma's after Chuseok, stuffed with goodies.
Gifts done, Dambha suddenly hugged him tight, face buried in his gut.
"Thanks for saving me, Jin-cheol."
"No big deal."
Jin-cheol ruffled the boy's fur wildly, grinning.
The other Kampoeni whooped and mobbed him. Surrounded by fluffballs, fur in his mouth, Jin-cheol roared laughing.
"You're a mess."
"Am I?"
Atukai's words as Jin-cheol returned, fur flying. He grinned sheepishly; Atukai chuckled too.
"Talked to Captain Romuto. He'll take you to the city, meals included—eat up."
"Thanks, Atukai. Hope this covers my keep."
"Pfft. What you did was worth more. Oh, and I asked the captain for a gift—look forward to it."
"Gift? Got plenty already. I'm good."
"Too late. Just accept."
Atukai extended a tiny hand. Jin-cheol clasped it.
"Safe travels, Jin-cheol. Come back anytime—you're the village's benefactor."
"Yeah, I will. Someday."
Final scan of the dock—no Tobi. Then the fish gentleman approached.
"Goodbyes done?"
Romuto. Jin-cheol nodded; the captain signaled the upper deck. The crane, done loading Kampoeni cargo and unloading meds and junk, swung toward them.
"Hook's below—step in."
No safety regs here. Jin-cheol complied; another signal, and up he went with a jerk.
"Wheee!"
"Bye, Jin-cheol!"
Kampoeni trailed below, waving. He waved back; the crane set him on deck quick.
"Whoa."
Broad deck stacked with crates of all sizes. One side: Kampoeni cargo, with the two Olrogs plus more workers shifting it.
"All those fuckers got collars. Real bomb collars?"
Five or six Olrogs; eight-ish other laborers—Kampoeni? But not the fluffy two-footers. These: taller, black short fur, thick necks, perky ears, long limbs—like Dobermans on hind legs in work clothes.
"Atukai's clan is unusually pastoral, small and mild—have to be. Black Paw Kampoeni are strong, diligent—great city workers. Big ones make mercenaries."
Romuto, following up. Jin-cheol ignored the prick, leaning over the rail to wave at the Kampoeni below.
Romuto watched, then turned. Cargo secure, the ship peeled from the dock with eerie maneuverability, following the river.
Dock receding, tiny Kampoeni waving. Then, from a corner behind broken stone rubble, a fluffball burst out—Tobi. He sprinted along the dock after the quickening ship. Tears streaked his face, clear in Jin-cheol's eyes.
He shouted.
"Tobi! Take care!"
Tears streaming, Tobi panted along the pier, waving frantically.
"Bye! Bye, Jin-cheol! Thanks! Sorry for yelling last night! Thanks—!"
Nose stinging, Jin-cheol waved bigger. So Tobi and the others could see from afar, remember him.
Tobi tripped hard. Oof, kid.
He popped up, but the ship was too far now. He stopped running, yelled instead.
"Jin-cheol—! Fuuuuck—! Fuuuuck—!"
"What? Puhaha—!"
The sudden curse cracked Jin-cheol up. Damn, my sin's heavy. Corrupted that innocent kid—taught him to curse a farewell. Irresistible glee surged; he yelled back.
"Say 'you fucker' then! You fucker—!"
Tobi paused, then roared.
"Jiiin-cheol—! Fuuucker—! Fuuuuck-er—!"
"…Bwahaha!"
Tobi, you're the best.
Jin-cheol waved and laughed long at the fading dock. Laughed till the river bend hid them completely, then stopped.
"…"
Big laughs leave strange voids. A drop from the heights. Jin-cheol dangled on the edge, staring blankly at the river.
Someone approached.
"Kang Jin-cheol?"
Turning, he first mistook him for Romuto. But the outfit differed slightly, and the face above the mask too.
A light nod.
"Parm Wirson. Ship's medic and logkeeper."
"Uh… Kang Jin-cheol. What do you want?"
Wirson clasped hands behind back, tilting head.
"I'll teach you Baika, Esai, Lavito tongues—dialects too. Anything else you're curious about, I'll answer as best I can. Oh, and I hold a degree from Public Baika University as a physician—no need to doubt my veracity."
"…What?"
Staring blankly at the fish gentleman, Jin-cheol finally got Atukai's "gift."