If one were to ignore the fact that there were Divinities in the deep sea with power capable of instilling despair in the hearts of just anyone, then one could definitely say that the Subterranean Sea was in the middle of its best era so far.
The recent two consecutive world-ending crises had killed a considerable number of people throughout the Subterranean Seas. However, their deaths meant more land and opportunities for the surviving people.
A new age of discovery began throughout the Subterranean Sea, and there were opportunities everywhere for everyone lucky enough to stumble upon it.
Hope Island's population had gone down considerably; quite a few ambitious people had left with their ships to fulfill their dreams. A huge chunk of them would surely die, but some would surely succeed.
As for the black wall that had almost annihilated all mankind, the denizens of the Subterranean Sea seemed like they didn't really care about it. However, this was all because of the governors' tacit decision to control the spread of information.
They believed that there was no need to let the people below know about the Foundation's plan to exterminate all of humanity. Besides adding to their worries, it was a meaningless endeavor.
Weister had just delivered his final letter for the day to an old lady on a street somewhere in the harbor district, and he was getting ready to head home.
The drastic development of communications technology in Hope Island had already affected the postal system on the island. There were fewer and fewer letters to deliver at the post office.
With no more letters to deliver, Weister proceeded to perform his duties as the Admiral of Hope Island's Navy. He wasn't exactly picky about his job, so he had no issues with the drastic change in duties from being a mail carrier to an admiral.
"First Mate! Huff… First Mate! Puff… Wait… for me!" A labored voice echoed from behind him. He turned and saw Cook Planck running toward him with two sacks on his shoulders.Cook Planck had just emerged from the nearby fish market. His face was flushed, and he was sweating profusely.
As soon as Cook Planck's weight was transferred onto the bicycle, the bicycle let out a metallic wail as one of its wheels immediately deformed from round to oval.
"Give me a ride. I saw fresh goods being unloaded from the fishing boats, and I accidentally bought too much of them. This is at least fifty kilograms," Planck said.
Bandages pedaled down the street with great difficulty.
"Are they… for your… restaurant?"
"No, I'm going to eat them myself. Exploring the surface was too exhausting. I mean, just look at me. I've gotten thinner, right? I'm going to reward myself properly," Planck said, rubbing his round double chin.
"You're not… thinner… at all…" Weister pedaled with all his might.
Planck waved his steel prosthetic right leg and chuckled. "The weight must be because of this leg. It really is too heavy."
Weister didn't reply and simply continued on pedaling with his head down. Soon, they arrived at Planck's restaurant. Planck finally got off the back seat, but the deformed wheel didn't return to its original shape.
Planck waved the sacks in his hands and eagerly invited Weister into his restaurant. "Want to have a drink in the backyard? It's very quiet there."
Weister pondered briefly over it before nodding. He then parked his bicycle and followed Planck inside.
Planck hadn't lied. His backyard was indeed very quiet. There wasn't anything else in the backyard except for two trees, a table, and an open kitchen.
Crunch, crunch, crunch…
Dipp was gnawing on a spider crab larger than his face. When the hard shell was finally devoid of meat, he finally threw the crab onto the messy table.
Dipp burped in satisfaction and started picking his teeth. "Now, this is what I call food. What were you even making when you were on the ship? It tasted worse than shit."
"How is your nose so sharp? You immediately rushed over here as soon as I was done cooking. And you ate like a ton… Did you not have breakfast?" the gloomy-looking Planck asked. He sat up and walked toward the open kitchen.
"You know my wife's previous job, right? Asking her to kill is fine, but asking her to cook? Might as well kill her. We usually eat out. Today, we got too busy catching lunatics, so we forgot to eat," Dipp said. Then, he took out a cigarette and enjoyed it.
Dipp was clad in a black police uniform with buttons, but he didn't even bother buttoning it up. He wore it in a very casual way, with his chest exposed for everyone to see.
Dipp exhaled, and then his right hand covered in green scales transformed into a blue mist. The blue mist carried a pack of cigarettes to Weister and shook it lightly before the latter.
Weister shook his head, saying that he wasn't a smoker.
"I passed by the Governor's Mansion earlier and saw the captain in the middle of a Subterranean Sea Council meeting. I reckon they're talking about how to deal with the Foundation," Dipp said, retracting his hand and putting away the cigarette pack into his own pocket.
"It's not… that… easy..." Weister poured himself a glass of alcohol and tilted his head backward, chugging it down.
"Of course, it's not that easy. By the way, First Mate, do you have any idea about the way that the captain used to make the Foundation concede? I asked him about it, but he didn't tell me.
"The Foundation is too strong, but they conceded so easily. I think there's something fishy going on."
Charles wasn't exactly willing to let many people know about something that involved the Divinities. After all, it was a special topic that would make things safer for everyone involved if only a few people were in the know.
Weister was one of the individuals who were in the know, and it was exactly because he knew about it that he wouldn't reveal anything about it. "Don't ask… don't listen… don't think…"
"I'm not asking questions simply because I'm curious." Dipp appeared slightly aggrieved as he said, "I want to help. Even the captain is hiding it from me."
"You… can't help… none of us can… help..."
Planck, who was busy in the kitchen, was astonished to hear that. He sounded a bit unconvinced as he retorted, "'None of us can help'? I can definitely help. It doesn't matter what they're doing; they still need to eat at the end of the day."
"Wait… we wait… the captain… is the only one… who can… command… the ship…" Weister muttered.
Dipp raised his arm holding the cigarette and stretched lazily. "Alright then. I'll take a good rest until then. By the way, did you guys hire maids and butlers for your household? How are they doing?"
Both Planck and Weister shook their heads.
"I'm not used to having strangers walking around in my home," Planck replied.
"Yeah, me too," Dipp said, nodding in approval. "Everyone has maids and servants except for us, so Aliya thinks that we will not be able to fit in the upper-class social circle of Hope Island unless we hire some.
"Personally? I think social circles are a load of bullshit. It hasn't even been that long since the seawater receded, and they're already showing off their wealth again? Damn it. I really want to shoot them all.
"But Conor managed to get along with them. We are all sailors, but I just have no idea how he managed to fit in with them back then," Dipp said, his expression becoming a bit gloomy. He was reminded of the late red-headed Second Mate and the deceased crew members of the Narwhale.
Their relationship was pretty good on the Narwhale. During brief respites from danger, they'd often stay cooped up in their cabins, slacking off by playing cards.
Back then, they were living from day to day, as they knew that they could die at any time. Despite the extreme danger, however, Dipp could say that he was truly happy at the time.
"You don't need to fit in those so-called social circles. You have your own social circle. Throughout Hope Island, no circle is sturdier than ours." Second Mate Nico, with heavy eye shadow, walked over with coquettish steps.
"You guys are drinking without inviting me? That's not very kind of you guys. Are you afraid that I'll get you drunk just to bed you? Don't worry about it; you guys look messed up. I'm not interested in any of you at all."
"Don't say that, Second Mate," Dipp said, waving his hand. "I just arrived here."
Nico snatched Weister's cup and tilted his slender neck before chugging the drink down.
Weister raised his hand, and green vines rushed out of his hand, rapidly morphing into a wooden chair. "Sit."
Dipp looked around and saw a mouse in the corner. "Hey! Everyone's here, so can you call the others to come over here as well? Let's all drink together! And bring Lily along, too!"
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