“….”
The grace of a Great One.
There was no need to wrack his brain over who the Great One he spoke of was. Ian stared fixedly at him, a pipe clamped between his lips, then dragged over a half-broken chair, sat down, and pulled out a cigarette.
Fshh.
When he lit it with practiced ease, acrid smoke rose into the air. The captain snorted out a laugh at the sight.
“You’re calmer than I thought. Is this because you’re a fish already caught in the net?”
Ian didn’t answer. Instead, he examined the captain’s appearance closely.
The eyepatch he wore suggested he was one-eyed. The bundle of blue tentacles piercing through his elbow was caked with clotted blood, and another person’s head was impaled atop his shoulder like a stake. Maggots and blood churned within their gaping mouths.
Whether he had originally been human before becoming such a form, or had been born that way, Ian honestly neither knew nor cared.
Whatever the case, it was clear his current state was far from normal. Ian held the cigarette between his fingers and slowly opened his mouth.
“Are you affiliated with an Order?”
“It is my glorious faith. The Crawling Chaos, the One Who Howls in the Darkness, the God of the Blood-Smeared Tongue, and so on. He is called by many names, but to me, He is simply an absolute deity worthy of worship.”
The captain answered, stuffing fresh tobacco into his pipe.
“He grants us the power to dominate the world. Mages like you, the Bureau that twists the rules of the world, and the Vatican that worships false gods—He bestows upon us the ability to crush them all.”
“….”
“Thus, how could I not worship Him?”
“Why did you seize this cruise ship?”
Ian had no intention of discussing faith with him. What mattered to him was the connection between the Order and the Mystery that permeated this cruise ship.
The captain also seemed to have no desire to engage in deep theological debate with a heretic, shrugging his shoulders and looking out the window.
“It’s probably exactly what you’re guessing.”
“….”
“A grand altar. We kill the passengers aboard this cruise one by one, offer them as sacrifices, and perform a ritual to summon a god. To bring light to this world is my calling, my appointed duty.”
“A fanatic.”
“I am devout.”
The captain snickered, exhaling smoke into the air. Ian leaned his upper body forward slightly.
“However, this space is, regrettably, not something we created. We merely made use of a pre-existing Mystery. The Provider called it an ‘Illegal Copy USB.’ It’s a thing that can change a designated space into something like a game, provided you sacrifice dozens of humans.”
Change reality into something like a game….
Most likely, it was because of that ability that status windows had appeared and the mental domination called “roles” had been forcibly imposed.
The genre of the game was highly likely to be Lovecraftian. There were simply too many bizarre elements for it to be a simple mystery game. The tentacles and worms crawling across the ship were one thing, and so was the presence felt beneath the sea.
Ian lacked the ability to sense killing intent or feel gazes upon him like the protagonists of fantasy novels, but he could perceive the will of his grimoires.
[.......]
Deep Sea Chronicle.
This grimoire, written by the master of the outer seas and founded upon the ocean, was in a state of desperate impatience, as if it wanted to tear apart whatever was in the depths right this instant.
It wasn’t intense murderous intent or hatred. It was merely an ordinary desire to kill the disgusting insect that had invaded its territory.
The Hand of Re-Creation remained still, but it did not scoff at the Deep Sea Chronicle’s attitude. That meant it shared a similar sentiment.
“….”
Based on his experience thus far, grimoires tended not to react much to abominations or Mysteries. Even back at the hospital, there had been a fairly strong abomination called the Hospital Director, yet the grimoires hadn’t paid it any mind. They hadn’t reacted to it at all from the start.
But now, they were reacting. That meant one thing.
The existence beneath the sea was powerful enough to even grate on the grimoires.
It was probably no ordinary Mystery. Even if it was an entity derived from the Mystery called the “Illegal Copy USB,” its strength would likely easily surpass that of the Hospital Director.
Whatever it was, the fact that it needed to be killed remained unchanged. If killing the captain did not end the situation, he would have to deal with that thing as well.
He wasn’t worried.
It was only natural. What was there to worry about when one of his grimoires specialized in underwater environments?
He didn’t know exactly what was lurking beneath the waves, but it was highly likely weaker than the summoned entities recorded in the Deep Sea Chronicle. Killing it wouldn’t be difficult.
Thus, now was the time to focus solely on the captain.
Ian clamped the spent cigarette between his fingers and flicked it at him. The butt, scattering ash as it flew, struck the captain’s beard before falling away.
“Oops.”
It was an insulting gesture, but the captain, without a trace of displeasure, smiled, picked up the fallen butt, and brought it to his mouth.
Crunch!
Along with the sound of flesh being crushed, blood trickled from between his lips. A fishy, metallic scent wafted forth, and Ian grimaced, aiming his revolver. The captain chuckled, raising both hands.
“My apologies. I have rather a lot of tongues, you see. When I chew on something like this, I can’t help but bite a few.”
“…Why did you pick that up and eat it?”
“I was merely curious what kind of cigarette one who receives the blessing of another Great One might smoke.”
“…What?”
“A joke. There was no deeper meaning. It’s simply that whenever I see something, I feel the urge to eat it.”
The captain slowly rose to his feet.
Only then did Ian realize he had three legs. Two ordinary legs stained red, and a writhing, living leg that had burst through his tailbone. From the maw at its end, a long tongue slithered out and aimed at Ian like a spear.
“….”
Ian held the captain’s gaze for a brief moment, then rose to his feet, re-creating the broken chair. He gripped it like a dagger and shook off the blood clinging to his hand.
“You have a lot of information to spit out.”
Bang! Crack!
Ian shot and shattered the window inside the bridge. Glass shards scattered, widening the space available to fight. The amount of pooled seawater increased slightly.
“The name of the Provider who gave you that Mystery. And the hierarchy of your Order—you’ll spit it all up for me.”
“That won’t be easy.”
Squelch.
The captain’s arm split vertically, and a red tongue stretched out from within. Red chunks of flesh crawled out of his gaping mouth, writhing like maggots. In an instant, his face was covered in tongues slick with saliva and blood.
“I’ve given you plenty of time. So let me make you an offer.”
He tore at his nape, pulling out a rigid, hardened tongue as he spoke.
“Have you considered joining our Order?”
“….”
“A talent like you is always welcome. Since you are favored by Great Ones, you should be able to receive our miracles with ease. You might even become an Apostle. You would gain an intangible blade capable of bewitching your opponent with words and killing with nothing but your voice. You could do it. I could even write you a letter of recommendation.”
“…Hmm.”
“What do you think?”
The captain asked, licking his lips. Ian was silent for a moment, pretending to contemplate, then grinned.
“Go fuck yourself.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that.”
The captain smiled back and stomped hard on the floor.
Kwa-boom!!!
Bundles of writhing tentacles burst from the bridge floor like spears, striking Ian’s body. A dull thud rang out as they pierced his coat, and before Ian could react, the charging captain slammed into him.
Kuwung!
Ian's body flew through the air and was driven into the wall. A thunderous roar erupted, and dust and sea fog spread thickly. The captain stared at where he had landed, smirking.
It was enough force to easily shatter a concrete wall. No matter how much of a mage he was, there was no way he could be unharmed after that attack. Even if it hadn’t killed him, it should have left him on the verge of death.
“That’s why mages shouldn’t be on the front lines.”
The captain laughed, putting his pipe in his mouth.
“Don’t worry. Even if you’re dead, I’ll pull out your tongue and offer it as a sacrifice. Ah, I’ll also take the grimoires you carry. They are precious objects; He will be pleased to receive them.”
“….”
“No response. Is he dead?”
The captain scratched his head and roughly waved his hand through the dust as he stood before the ruined wall. Then, seeing Ian’s head slumped beneath it, he clicked his tongue.
“He’s done for. He acted so damn tough, but he was just a bug in the end.”
He muttered to himself, crouching down. Then, to pull out Ian’s tongue, he grabbed Ian’s hair and lifted his head.
“If I finish up quickly and capture the other mages to use as living sacrifices for the Order, it’ll be perfect—”
“Summon.”
Thud.
The captain’s monologue was cut off by Ian’s voice. His eyes went wide, and Ian, slowly opening his eyes, placed a hand on the captain’s shoulder and smiled brightly.
“Be reborn.”
Crunch!!
The Hand of Re-Creation, which had settled in his hand at some point, glowed as the magic activated. The captain’s shoulder, swollen like a balloon, burst with a pop, and blood, bodily fluids, and flesh scattered in all directions.
Though Ian was instantly drenched in blood, he didn’t flinch, seizing the revolver he’d set down nearby. He immediately poured bullets into the thing’s head and heart.
Tatatatang!!
Rapidly fired magnum rounds. Instead of dodging the gunfire, the captain clenched his teeth and cut off his own shoulder before the explosion spreading from it could engulf his upper body. The severed arm burst like a balloon in mid-air, and he roared, hurling his tongue like a spear at Ian’s head.
“Kuh!”
He narrowly dodged. His cheek was torn and bleeding, but the pain instead sharpened his mind.
Ignoring the tongue embedded in the wall, Ian plunged a long kitchen knife into the lower jaw of the captain’s regenerated head.
Thuk!
A terrible sensation of tearing flesh traveled up through his grip.
But perhaps because he had already transcended the bounds of primates, the captain did not die from being stabbed with a knife.
It was the expected result. Ian moved away without hesitation, sliding across the floor. Instead of retrieving the tongue embedded in the wall, the captain cut it off and turned his head toward Ian.
“Hrrrrgh…!”
“…Huu.”
Their gazes clashed in mid-air.
The shock-absorbing magic activated, and the coat, which had rippled like water, returned to its pristine state. Ian tossed the crushed cigarette pack he’d kept in his inner coat pocket to the side and smirked.
“It’s my first time fighting a humanoid, so don’t die too easily. I need to gain some experience, don’t I?”
Blood flowing down his cheek pooled at his jaw and plopped off. Ripples formed in the seawater pooled on the floor, and the captain screamed as he charged forward.
The same pattern as before.
Ian switched grimoires and threw his revolver.
Saaaaah…!
The seawater pooled at his feet writhed as if encountering a predator.