The Laws (before battle)
Now, men! Clear orders and solidarity are of paramount importance in times like these!
Right leg on 'HEAVE', left leg on 'HO'! Let's go!
HEAVE!
HO!
HEAVE!
... HEAVE HO HOW is it fair that you get to stand there barkin' orders at us while we're pedaling our bums off?
A most dimwitted question. A Captain must preserve her strength, or risk putting her subordinates in danger.
That is precisely why I am refraining from partaking in this collaborative effort myself!
<…….>
... Since when were you our Commander?
<Well, she did say she's the Captain, not the Commander...>
…….
Those damn seagulls can flock off already.
How 'bout we kidnap them seagulls and train them to pedal the generator?
Oi, Faust! Smartarse! I thought you were a genius; make it so! That should be easy-peasy for your brilliant intellect, no?
I can make it happen, indeed. Yet I do not, as it is inefficient. Rudimentary toilet training will be the first step in making them viable as a consistent source of labor.
Charon's bored. Charon wants to vroom-vroom.
I'm tagging out. You're the driver, so do your job. That should keep you occupied for a while.
Oho, ya sure about that? Vergie's not gonna let that slide~ That's how ya get yourself a 'consultation', y'know?
Haah... Wait...! Let's think about this for a hot minute.
Let's think about the actual reason we're sweating, pedaling the crap out of the generator, huh?
... To nitpick and seek someone to take the fall for every little thing is... a stinking thought. All that happens on the road to success is merely a part of the process.
Look, I'm not saying that we should play the blame game. I'm just wondering why we're pedaling so darn hard to begin with. It's not like there's something coming after us.
We're headed toward one of the largest ports of U Corp., and we know exactly where that is and how to get there.
It's not like the port's gonna sail away, right? Why all this urgency?
…….
I mean, am I wrong? The Great Lake has been very tranquil so far. It's not like some monster's going to suddenly appear out of nowhere and attack us, right?
It appears that your consolidated field experience has evolved into a form of intuition. Fascinating, Gregor.
What...?
Faust finds this development optimistic.
We must exit this area within the next 10 minutes. We are... falling somewhat behind the forecast of my predictions.
Okay... that was ominous. Why precisely 10 minutes?
The 'laws of the Great Lake'.
Ohh... I knew it! It's that darn law of the Great Lake again, huh?!
...?
Your foreknowledge of the laws of the Great Lake is an unexpected development, Rodion. Quite difficult to believe that, even with the consolidated experience, your intuition would -
Sorry, sorry~ I just wanted to look like I was in on it for once. Girl gets tired of asking every time, ya know.
The Great Lake of U Corp. has laws that... must never be broken.
And yes. The port can and will sail away, Gregor.
It's a bloody lake... What laws could it possibly have?
What, are the Lake coppers going to come spank the bad boys with a stick for breaking class rules?
There better be a law that lets me SYNC, whiny brat. My ears are starting to bleed.
'Haah... Guys, knock it off.'
I could almost hear a well-timed sigh followed by honest but brutal, piercing words. It was like someone recorded her sigh and played it in my head.
But Ishmael was nowhere to be seen on the deck.
So, if there's anything you want from me from now on, state it. Clearly.
She wasn't kidding. Ishmael remained in her room, not a peep to be seen nor heard despite the commotion.
Not appearing once through all that's happened since... the incident.
As much as I would like to provide you with an explanation, leaving this zone takes precedence.
According to my calculations, our last conversation left us with 7 minutes.
We are approximately 15km away from the edge of this zone as the crow flies.
Each person must pedal to generate enough energy to travel at least 10km per hour if we are to escape in time.
Wonderful. I love to see some proper teamwork for once.
Hyaah! Rocinante! Our destination is nigh! Gallop on!
Where does... that girl... get her energy from... Ugh, augh...
Cough, cough... I think I'm done for... Just go on ahead without me...
And leave you where... We're on... a ship... agh.
Hup. Hup. Hup. Hup.
Diaphragmatic breathing is conducive to maintaining consistent speed in an exercise of this intensity.
Especially more so when each Sinner is responsible for about 10km per hour of energy output. Any higher and it would have required hyperpnea to maintain that speed.
Do you ever get tired, girl?!
No. 3 minutes remaining, now.
Aough... We don't even know what happens in 3 minutes! Why are we doing this?!
<She said there's no time! Just step on it with your life!>
Charon wanted to vroom-vroom. This is squeak-squeak.
Squeak-squeak. That's no fun.
Hm hm hm~ I didn't know how energizing work songs could be.
Huuh?! How do you guys have so much energy left?
This is not even a warm-up compared to the training my family forced me to do~
Ach, you lot! Shut your gobs and pedal!
30 seconds remaining.
30... 30 seconds...!
Khaaaa! Quite the thrill this is!!! Now this! Is true adventure!!!
'Tis like charging an overwhelmingly colossal enemy, is it no - Ach?! Cough! Ack!
Save your words. Your breathing. Remain. In the flow. Breathe in. Out. Breathe in. Out. Breathe in. Out. Breathe in. Out. Breathe in. Out.
Huff... Huff... How... much... time...
10 seconds remaining.
4 seconds.
4? Why are you not... doing this by multiples of 5...?!
Look alive, deckhands! Put your back into it! Toil, men! Toil!
Somehow, we managed to escape the zone before Faust counted down to zero.
Some Sinners immediately threw themselves to the deck of the ship like limp puppets, while some looked like they'd just taken a quick rest at a park bench.
<So... we made it somehow, but...>
I don't see any signs of those 'laws'... Am I missing something... Frau Faust?
Agh... I swear, if all this 'law of the Great Lake' drivel was some hogwash you made up...
... just to make this journey go just a tad faster, I'm going to seriously...
The tranquil Lake surface we just pedaled through... was gone, as though it was never even there.
In its place was an immense... something. Its innumerable legs - or tentacles - writhed, rising above the Lake's surface. I couldn't even tell where the thing ended and where the Lake began.
Did it burst from the Lake? Or...
Were we traveling unawares on its body this whole time?
PHWAAAH?!
I couldn't even find the right word to describe the magnitude of that thing. Its appearance sent waves across the waters all the way to the zone we were in...
Mephistopheles shook violently as though it was about to capsize. It need not be said that the Sinners on the deck were given an untimely shower.
Woah... That was too close! We were almost pancaked...
W-well! No a-adventure is complete with uh, cough, cough... nar-nary a peril, of course...
N.B. Now this is more like it.
We have no chance of weathering a single strike from one of its limbs.
No. But 'it' will leave us alone as long as we are 'here'.
That is the law of the Great Lake.
Now we have time for my explanations.
Though the laws of the Great Lake are numerous, I will relay only the pertinent information for now.
Lingering longer than a predetermined amount of time in a single Lake will cause one to be struck by the 'Waves' of each Lake.
'Waves'...? That didn't look like any waves I've seen before.
There are also laws governing the time and direction in which ships are permitted to cross the borders between the Lakes.
Wait up. So... if we ever just come to a stop for a bit, that... octopus tentacle-like thing'll whack us?
Precisely. Thus, it naturally follows that everything on the Great Lake is in a constant state of motion to position itself according to the laws.
And the route toward our destination will also change accordingly.
Hmm... Can I get, like, a written list of these laws? My nanny used to stick a piece of paper with our family rules in my room. Not that I could follow them all, but…
That's when...
... I heard a door open. Whoever opened it did so with obvious irritation.
... The Waves finally hit, huh?
<Ish... mael?>
After such a long period of isolation, Ishmael staggered out of her room at last.
You can't just scribble the laws of the Great Lake down on a notepad and call it a day. Each Lake has wildly different sets of laws, even though the overarching laws governing the Great Lake are pretty straightforward.
More importantly, you should know that unauthorized recording of their laws is one of U Corp's better-known Taboos.
Then my body will remember it.
... Tattooing them on your body, if that is what you are referring to, is also prohibited.
Taboo Hunters of U Corp. have been sent in pursuit of individuals who have attempted precisely that. It is best that we do not produce any written records of their laws.
<… What have you been doing all this time, Ishmael?>
Whetting my harpoon.
<Your harpoon? Why?>
Because I need it to be sharper.
Because I'll give her the kind of pain that makes her wish she was dead. She'll feel it, even from the smallest cuts.
… Then why don't you spare us from your misery and crawl back into your hole.
I'm afraid that if I did, I'd later emerge to a deck littered with your melted, unrecognizable flesh.
And I'm not rearing to see a sight like that again.
Besides...
Watching you landsmen waste time tinkering with a ship you don't even understand, wasting precious time... has been unbearable.
Even though it's been a long time since the incident at the Boatworks, her biting yet anxious lectures have not dulled at all.
I was afraid that she might stir up trouble among the Sinners again...
<... Okay, fine.>
But she was out here with the rest of us, and I wanted to believe that that was more than enough. I decided not to question her further.
... Hm. I had a feeling this would happen.
Ishmael walked up to the helm.
What are you doing? We are smooth sailing at the moment. A northbound breeze is pushing us along.
I guess it could look that way for some people. Simple, one-dimensional, predictable ground pounders like you.
You little... How dare you insult my -
<Outis, let's hear her out.>
... You got lucky, swabbie.
<Okay, Ishmael. Tell us... How are we not smooth-sailing? We've got the wind at our backs.>
That's no wind.
We're getting dragged.
<Dragged? By what?>
Those ships.