Chapter 29 - Breakfast
"Oh, Kyro... came a voice, low, velvety, and entirely too close."
I turned around in the hazy, golden light of the dream world. Captain Brohm was standing there, completely naked, wearing nothing but a slow, wicked smile. She walked toward me with a tantalizing sway, resting her left hand on her hip while her vibrant emerald eyes locked onto mine.
My primal urges completely overthrew my logical brain. Every single defense mechanism I possessed dissolved instantly as I rushed toward her like a starved animal.
"Oh, mommy...!" I yelled, stretching my hands out, completely aiming for her chest.
Right as my fingers were about to make contact with her skin, a massive, deafening explosion rocked the universe.
I snapped my eyes open with a violent gasp.
The soft, golden dream world was gone. In its place was the hard, unforgiving reality of a wooden floor, accompanied by a sharp, throbbing sting at the back of my skull. I had rolled entirely out of my bottom bunk during the my sleep, landing flat on my back.
I lay there for a second, staring blankly up at the ceiling beams. Then, I looked down at my waistline.
"I am absolutely, utterly helpless," I muttered to myself, groaning in sheer agony. My underwear was twisted in a configuration that felt entirely illegal, holding a desperate, morning-induced structural rigidity that refused to back down.
I scrambled to my feet, awkwardly adjusting myself and shaking out my legs until my body finally returned to a civilized state. Once the immediate biological crisis was averted, I turned back to my mattress. The elegant purple box Onnie had given me was sitting open, but the little wooden statue of myself was missing.
Panic instantly pierced through my chest. "W-where is it?!"
I dropped to my knees, frantically sweeping my arms under the bed frame until my fingers brushed against polished wood.
"Thank goodness," I breathed, pulling it out and checking the texture for any cracks or splinters. It was perfectly fine. "Okay, note to self: hide this inside the pack before going to sleep next time."
I carefully placed the figurine back into its violet box, walked over to the corner of the room, and unzipped my heavy travel bag. As I tucked the box securely away, my eyes caught the heavy leather binding of the Alchemy Book I had purchased back in the market.
"Well, I suppose it's time to actually dive into some real study," I murmured, my fingers tracing the cover.
Grumbleeee~.
My stomach let out a thunderous roar, completely shattering my academic ambitions.
"Right after I get some food," I corrected myself.
Looking around the cabin, I noticed both Grann and Lyra's bunks were completely empty. The barbarian dynamic duo had clearly beaten me to the punch. I placed the book on the table. Leaving the room, I stepped out into the dim hallway and climbed the creaking wooden stairs toward the upper deck.
***
The moment my head cleared the hatch, the crisp, biting breeze of the open ocean hit my face. The sheer scale of the horizon was breathtaking. The ship was a hive of chaotic, coordinated activity; crewmen were scrubbing the decks, hoisting heavy rigging, and hauling wooden barrels across the deck. I carefully weaved through the moving bodies, occasionally stepping aside to avoid getting flattened by a burly sailor carrying a crate of iron spikes.
Up on the quarterdeck, standing proudly above the Captain's Quarters, was Brohm.
She held the massive wooden steering wheel with one casual hand, tilting her head back to take a long, deep swig from an iron flask. It smelled faintly of heavy molasses and high-proof alcohol even from down here. She was wearing her usual white tank top and baggy cargo pants, her wild, reddish-brown mane tied back loosely with her signature orange bandana. Her bare feet were planted firmly on the smooth wood, completely unfazed by the tilting of the ship.
"HEY!" I shouted, waving my arms to get her attention over the crashing waves.
Brohm paused, lowering her flask. Her emerald eyes scanned the main deck until they locked onto me, her lips instantly curling into an amused smirk. "Oh, hi there, handsome."
She capped her flask with a loud click, strolled over to the wooden railing, and leaned over it lazily. Resting her chin in her palm, she watched me with an expression that made my cheeks immediately burn. "How can I help you today, little man?"
FOCUS, PAUL.She is a literal monster who eats souls. Do not look at the tank top. Look at her eyes. No, her eyes are too intense. Look at the bandana. Yes, the bandana is safe..!
I cleared my throat. "I uh where can I eat? I am quite hungry." I rubbed my belly.
"Eat? Oh, just head right down to the bow of the ship," Brohm smiled, giving me a cheerful thumbs-up. "The cook already set out the morning rations, kid. Just grab yourself a bowl of the daily soup before the crew hoards the rest."
"T-thank you!" I stammered, offering a quick wave before sprinting away toward the opposite end of the vessel.
At the front of the ship, a makeshift mess hall had been established. The ship's cook stood behind a row of barrels lined together with a thick wooden plank resting on top, ladling steaming portions of fish soup and dark rice into wooden bowls. The crew members were scattered around, sitting on overturned crates and treating flat-topped barrels as tables.
In the center of the crowd, a massive uproar was underway.
"RGHHH!"
Lyra was currently locked in a brutal arm-wrestling match against Scrotus, whose arms looked like solid blocks of granite. Lyra's teeth were bared, her face completely bright red as she poured every ounce of her barbarian strength into keeping her hand upright. Scrotus, on the other hand, looked like he was casually reading a book.
"THAT ALL YOU GOT, BLUE MOTH?!" Scrotus bellowed, laughing heartily as the surrounding crew cheered.
"N-NO! T-THIS IS JUST A WARM-UP!" Lyra screamed back, the veins in her neck bulging dangerously. "I'VE... GOT... MORE...!"
"YEAH! THAT'S WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR! C'MON! MOVE IT!" Scrotus egged her on, and Lyra let out a terrifying, guttural screech as the muscles in her forearms flexed to their absolute limit.
Grann was sitting a few paces away from the spectacle, completely isolated from the noise on a lone crate, quietly savoring his breakfast.
I grabbed my portion of soup and rice from the counter, navigated past the shouting crowd, and sat down directly across from my grandfather.
"Hey. Good morning," I said, setting my bowl down. Grann's bowl was already nearly empty.
"Good morning, young cub," he rumbled, a warm smile breaking through his thick beard. "How was your sleep? No sea sickness, I hope?"
"It was fine," I remarked, taking a seat. I turned my head to the left, staring out at the endless expanse of deep blue water. "I just realized we're completely out of the river. Yesterday we were navigating the Great Thunder Vein, and now we're in the middle of the open ocean. That was incredibly fast."
"Heh, of course it was." Grann turned his head slightly, his gaze shifting past my shoulder toward the upper deck where Brohm was now scanning the horizon with a brass spyglass. "Brohm is easily one of the finest sailors in the southern hemisphere. Most people assume that because she's a succubus, she must be a working woman of the night, or perhaps a lawless pirate. But she completely defied those expectations to build her own crew. That is what I admire most about her."
I raised an eyebrow, swallowing a spoonful of hot, savory fish broth and rice. "Admire her? You speak like you really know her. How long have you two actually been acquainted?"
"Mmm, I'd estimate it's been about forty-eight years since the first time I met her," Grann stated casually.
My jaw literally stopped moving. I stared at him, nearly dropping my wooden spoon. "Forty-eight years?! That long?" I turned back to look at the quarterdeck. Brohm looked like she was in her late twenties at best. She had aged like the finest wine imaginable.
"Yeah. Well, she's a demon, Kyro. They live vastly longer lifespans than common humans do," Grann explained, tilting his bowl to swallow the last drop of broth. He set it down with a satisfied sigh. "Actually, to be entirely honest, she used to be my very first love."
I froze mid-chew, blinking repeatedly. "Oh... so she's your ex?"
"Ex?" Grann tilted his head, his brow furrowing. "What is an ex?"
"Like... a former girlfriend, or a past romance," I explained, trying to translate modern slang into barbarian terms.
"Ah, yes. Ex. She is my ex," Grann nodded sagely.
"So that's why you two are so comfortable around each other." I leaned forward across the barrel, my expression turning dead serious as curiosity completely took over. "Wait... if she was your girlfriend... did you two actually, you know... sleep together?"
Grann blinked once, then let out a booming laugh that shook the entire bow of the ship. "BWAHAHA! Yes, boy! A man's true purpose in this world is to conquer and procreate! So, yes. We coupled quite frequently."
I swallowed hard, leaning closer. "Did... did she ever try to suck out your soul? Like you warned me about?"
"Bah, absolutely," Grann smiled proudly, crossing his massive arms. "But I possessed the stamina to make her pass out entirely before her body could drain my lifespan. And every time a succubus loses consciousness, whatever life force she just stole flows right back into the victim. It is a biological reset. A succubus is notoriously difficult to bring to a climax, you see. That is exactly why I enjoyed her company so much back then; she provided a magnificent challenge to my veiny—"
Cough! Wheeze!
A piece of shredded fish went entirely down the wrong pipe.
I began hacking violently, my face turning a deep shade of purple as I choked on my own breakfast, successfully cutting off whatever graphic anatomical description Grann was about to unleash.
"You okay there, cub?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with genuine, mild concern.
"I-I'm fine, haha... totally fine..." I wheezed, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, laughing entirely out of pure, unadulterated trauma.
"As I was saying," Grann sighed, his eyes softening as he looked back toward the helm. "I admire her because she followed her own dream. She wanted the sea, and she carved out a life for herself to get it."
Grann's words echoed in the hollow spaces of my mind.
Followed her own dream...
A sudden, suffocating wave of melancholy hit me, dragging my consciousness back to my past life as Paul Gapor. I remembered the burning passion I used to have for chemistry, the vibrant dreams of working in a real laboratory, creating things, understanding the fabric of matter. And then I remembered how easily I let those dreams get crushed. Every time a hurdle appeared, I backed down. Every time society demanded conformity, I surrendered.
Eventually, I just stopped trying. I spent decades locked away inside my own room, acting like a dependent child well into my late forties, watching my mother grow frail and old while I contributed absolutely nothing to the world.
I stared blankly into the remains of my fish soup, the reflection of my seven-year-old face mocking me.
Before Grann could ask what was wrong, I wound up my arm and punched myself squarely in the left cheek as hard as I possibly could. The sharp pain snapped the existential dread right out of my head.
Grann stared at me, his brow furrowing into a massive V. "Are you entirely certain you're okay, cabbage?"
I let out a long, cleansing breath, turning to him with a genuinely bright, determined smile. "Never better, Grann. I'm completely fine."
"Traders ahead!" a lookout bellowed from the main mast and so the crew moved from their crates and went to work immediately.
Scrotus turned to the crew as they went to do their jobs. He turned to Lyra who was still struggling.
"RGHHHHH!" She kept insisting and not giving up.
Scrotus smiled and purposely lost himself in the arm wrestling. "Wow good job Lyra. You beat me."
"Wha—?! you did that on purpose!" Lyra yelled, stamping her foot in frustration.
"HAHA! We'll do a proper rematch next time, alright?" Scrotus laughed, clapping her on the shoulder as he stood up to join his crewmates. "I've got duties to attend to now. Next time, I won't make it easy for you!"
"Fine" Lyra crossed her arms. "Just go already."
Scrotus made his way with the crew as each one of them grabbed ropes barrels and stuff. The crew eased the sheets to spill the wind from the canvas, slowly deadening Wavecutter's momentum.
I looked at the distance, out in the rolling blue waters, a cluster of floating woven baskets and wooden crates were bobbing gently on the waves. But as the Wavecutter slowed to a crawl, I realized the crates weren't drifting blindly.
There were heads sticking out of the water.
As the distance closed, the creatures became vividly clear. They were humanoids, but their skin possessed a beautiful, shimmering green-blue hue. There was also scales just next to their eyes which looks like mask for a grand-ball. And they all have regular haircuts, at least to this world's standard; some short and some long, regardless of whether they are male or female. Their webbed fingers ended in sharp, dark blue claws, and the texture of their skin looked perfectly adapted for the harsh salinity of the deep ocean. They had large, dark eyes with piercing yellow pupils that caught the morning sun. Surprisingly, they wore casual garments modified for swimming, like simple shirts and pants, but no footwear. Long, powerful tails trailed behind them in the water, ending in wide, flexible flippers that kept them effortlessly stationary against the ship's hull.
Lyra and I walked closer to see the scene unfold.
"Ready? Lower the packages!" Brohm's voice boomed down from the quarterdeck.
Five crewmen stood along the railing, holding thick guide ropes. Scrotus and the others carefully lowered a series of heavy wooden barrels over the side of the hull, letting them suspend just inches above the water's surface.
The Sea-folk swam forward, opening the floating crates attached to their lines to reveal rows of perfectly spherical coins crafted from pure white pearls. They inspected our cargo, nodded in satisfaction, and deftly untied our barrels, replacing them with massive woven baskets filled to the brim with exotic, fresh ocean fish.
Once the exchange was completed, the lead trader gave a crisp thumbs-up.
"Pull!" Brohm commanded.
"HEAVE!" the sailors shouted in unison, hauling the fresh catch up onto the deck.
I watched the entire process, utterly mesmerized by the flawless cooperation. Footsteps crunched behind me, and Brohm stepped up to the railing right next to us, a proud smile on her scarred face.
"Shlamat!" she shouted down to the water, her voice carrying a strange, rhythmic dialect.
The Sea-folk raised their webbed hands in a respectful nod, flipped backward into the water, and vanished beneath the waves with a synchronized splash.
"You see that? That is what a real maritime trade looks like, kid," Brohm said, turning her gaze down to me.
"What exactly was inside those crates we gave them?" I asked, my internal brain instantly analyzing the interaction.
"Pearl coins," Brohm explained, leaning her back against the railing. "It is the universal currency for the Sea-folk civilizations. We trade raw surface goods with them, and in return, they provide us with rare deep-sea materials, food, and occasionally unique metals. It is basic economics. Two entirely different civilizations keeping the gears turning."
She pointed to the barrels the crew were currently rolling away. "Inside those specific barrels were preserved spices, fabrics, and specialized iron tools that they can't forge underwater. If they offer us fish, we pay them in pearls. But if they happen to bring up sunken gold or silver from old shipwrecks, we trade them luxury items depending on the weight. The ocean is vast, Kyro. The surface world only sees a fraction of the wealth."
This is incredible. Back in my old world, underwater civilizations were nothing more than fantasy tropes and sci-fi theories. Seeing a fully functional, cross-species economic trade happen right in front of me... it makes this world feel so much larger than just barbarians and monsters.
"That is insanely cool," Lyra murmured, her eyes wide as she stared at the spot where the traders had subverted. She turned to Brohm, her face immediately shifting into her usual intense glare. "Do they have strong warriors down there? Like... underwater fighters?"
Brohm let out a loud laugh, a massive bead of sweat practically forming at her temple as she looked down at my terrifying little sister.
"I suppose they do," Brohm shrugged, offering a dry smile. "Though I've never personally dived down to their cities to check their military strength."
"Oh. Well, I really hope they have some champions," Lyra grinned, her fingers twitching near her sword hilt. "I would love to pick a fight with one of them some day."
Is there literally nothing else inside this child's brain besides violence? She asked herself.
[End]