Dillo, the owner of the booth rubbed his eyes and took another look, but there stood the Darling Twins staring at him in a muted body language. His heart sank into his stomach, and his chest heated up like the frying pan he daily used to roast loaves of bread on.
The next moment, he ended up shifting his head by a few degrees, only to find Lirzod similarly staring at him. His eyes enlarged. “Y-You are...”
“I have to finish my bath first! Someone, please take care of that dead dog,” Saying that Lirzod wasted no time in entering one of the rooms, and almost at the same time, the Darling twins dashed away in the opposite direction. Dillo stood still and had a puzzled expression, unable to get his head around what just happened.
The members of the crowd looked at each other in disappointment as all they could do was watch the Darling Brothers snatch a layer of the cake as they made themselves scarce.
“The cake from the 30th deck... half of it has already been wasted.”
“Did they have to take away the butterscotch layer of all?”
“They didn’t even wish Dillo, yet they snatched a big chunk of the cake. Taking such privilege for granted, hmph.”
“Idiot, this is too little of what a major[1] is privileged to do.”
Men blurted out their opinions, and those who disagreed with each other's views began to quarrel. A few others were rather interested in stuffing themselves with the cake. The rest focused on slapping Dillo’s rear end separately and in succession, which served as an additional gift for his birthday.
Inside a bathroom.
Lirzod had already poured buckets of tap water on him, and though the stench was still there, at least most of the oiliness was gone.
“Che, I ended up coming here when I should have run away instead,” Lirzod bit his nails. “What do I do now? What if the brothers are waiting for me outside?” he looked around, and his stare stopped on the rapidly-running ventilation fan, which appeared to be made out of plastic. A corner of his lips curled up just a little. “Now, I can get to my room without getting noticed.” He couldn't help but chuckle.
A couple of seconds later.
Something got sent flying out of the ship and traveled in a complex path before ending up in the sea at a spot quite far away from the ship. From a teeny hole, Lirzod’s head popped out, and he took a look around, only to meet darkness that laid everywhere ahead. With wild winds whipping at his face, he could barely see against the wind. He immediately pulled back his head. “What the hell? Why is it so windy outside?” he tapped his finger on his chin and pondered for a moment. “Surely, the ship isn’t traveling at this speed. It must be going through some wild region. Tch, what now?”
Meanwhile, at someplace else on the same deck.
At a four-way junction near Heat Street, a dirt-covered golden-haired beggar in black goggles was sitting with a blank expression. Two tiny silver trumpets served as his earrings. A mandolin was in his lap. A few coins could be seen in the disc-shaped shield lying in front of him. He was hearing many feet come and go but none that made him lift his fingers for a tune.
Soon, a graceful figure entered his range and grabbed his attention at first observance done without the help of his eyes. The fingers moved, and the strings trembled, starting beats followed by the seamless transition in chords and trills, forming a flow of patterns. As his fingers rendered every note with fitnesse, his voice smoothly snuck in.
By the time he was finished, half-a-dozen people dropped coins, but only one of them stayed till the end, and she was the one he sang for.
“You’ve got skills, sir,” the girl with narrow shoulders and mildly-toned physique clapped a few times.
“Many thanks, young lady,” the beggar could only grin in expectation, but to his shock, she walked away without dropping a coin. His mouth was briefly left open. “Did I play it too well?” he couldn’t help but curse himself.
Even though the girl made some distance, the beggar was aware, through the tension in the air, that many eyes were still on her, so much so that he couldn’t tell if his song attracted more attention or her simple presence, for such was the pull she had. Even if she were to wear a hood, her floral-patterned blue dress alone would have made her easily stand out. To strangers, her baby pink purse was simply an added asset that could also fit in her pockets. Her footwear put to view her polished nails, and at the same time, kept her close enough to the floor. Most men were unable to take their eyes off her, especially at her long, thick, and flowing hair, and in their eyes, she appeared no less resplendent than a smiling rose.
“I may be living for this day—a nautical one when I get to meet a novel belle built with bits of all rights and praise a mien of your magnificence.” A yellow-haired man brought a fresh-looking lotus and knelt before her, his arms raised high, carefully holding the flower. “May I have the pleasure of knowing the name of this novel belle?” His eyes showered a bountiful supply of warmth.
She stared down at him with a blank face.
“Oi, isn’t that the Flower Knight’s brother?” some of the men standing near their rooms felt disappointed upon seeing that man. “So, he’s fetching her already?”
“That dude’s from the ninth belt. We can’t match him.”
“I guess we can never get a girlfriend as long as we linger here.” Some others were downright sobbing on the inside.
The girl, however, bypassed the kneeling man, startling everyone, including himself. He swiftly stood and came to her front. “What’s wrong, miss? Do you not like flowers?”
“I do,” the girl said, her tone turning wintry by the second, “but not hypnotizing ones.”
Her words shook the hearts of most people around, especially the ones who didn’t know of the fact. The yellow-haired guy forced out a smile and quickly slid the flower into his coat pocket.
The other men could only look at each other's faces with slackened jaws, but none dared to utter a word, fearing the thought of their words reaching the yellow-haired man's ears.
“Now, if you step aside, I will—” the girl was saying, but the guy took out a tiny piece of paper and exhibited its details to her. The name written on it read “Name: Sariyoo Basuvoo. Height 171cm. Hiar: Red.” A teeny picture of her was drawn on it as well.
“What’s this? So many spelling mistakes,” as the girl was saying, her eyes slightly enlarged. She looked up at the man who was half feet taller than her. “How do you know my name?” Her voice strained a little.
“Kyle Bilburg. You can call me Kyle.” He smiled and put his hand forward, expecting a handshake but didn’t receive it. He relaxed his arm and forced out a whimsical smile. “If you want to know how we know your name, you can come with me. I will straight away take you to the upper decks.”
“Upper decks, huh…” Sariyu paused for a moment. “What’s expected in return?”
“Nothing much. You just have to work as we tell you for one month, that’s all. By the end, you will be eating on a golden plate and drinking from a golden glass.”
She let out an impatient snort. “So, all I get is a couple of golden kitchenware.”
Kyle snorted even louder and said, “It all depends on the quality you put in your work.”
“Uh…” She raised one of her brows. "And I presume this work involves nothing fancy.”
“Like I said, it varies from person to person.” One moment they traded smiles, and the next moment, cold glances replaced the smiles. None of the two seemed like they would back down.
“Oh,” Sariyu’s voice lowered a bit in volume, “you mean like for those who smell the flowers daily and for those who don’t? Then you can eff off, mister.”
Kyle’s makeshift smile faded away as his face turned redder by the second. “Look, girl,” he leaned forward and darted an ominous gaze at her, pointing his finger at her face and spoke in a low tone. “Like your appearance, you obviously belong to some weedy clan whose identity I don’t even give two effs about. So, either choose to come with me, and I’ll be gracious enough to throw some gold biscuits now and then for you to gnaw on, or just get your filthy face out of my sight unless you want me to pummel you into a pulp and serve you to seals.”
Sariyu stared at him, tightening her jaw.
Kyle stepped back, then spread his arms wide open and laughed playfully before speaking out loud. "So, what do you say, red beauty?"
Sariyu stepped to the side and went past him without saying a word. Kyle just went into deep thought before walking in the other direction. Fuck! Another failure.
Even though Sariyu walked off, her mood was spoiled. But she soon entered a street where the ceiling was pretty much screened by tree canopy, and the pleasant change in the view made her forget about everything. As she strode forth in that street lined by trees on either side, she picked up the squirrel talk. She noticed a squirrel scratching itself against a tree root, and then took out a mushroom from her purse and tossed it toward the little critter, which showed no hesitation in approaching the food item or in munching it away faster than Sariyu could eat. Then it hopped over the tree and made its way to the girl and climbed her dress.
“This is going a bit too much, but I’ll reward you for your courage,” she took out another mushroom and put it in its mouth, but what she didn’t notice was that her gesture had been under keen observation of many eyes lurking deep in the holes of hollowed trunks or hidden in the branches high up. Dozens of little legs came springing and bouncing at her from every direction and began to climb her legs and pull her dress. “Kya!” though she wanted to run, she was afraid of stomping them to death. “Get off of me!” they weren’t listening to her no matter what she said. While shivering in an amusing fashion as they went about nibbling on her footwear, feet and dress, she hurriedly took out a mushroom and threw it into the distance. All the squirrels ran in that direction, but they finished the job in a second and was on their way back to her. “W-Wait!” With a shocked expression, she shoved her hand in the purse all the way up to her elbow and then pulled out a broccoli and tossed it toward a tree. As all the squirrels went after the vegetable, she made a quick escape. However, a couple of squirrels still ended up following her to the next street.
She stopped and coldly looked at them. Unlike the previous squirrels, they weren’t coming near her. “Shy types… You must’ve been really hungry for you to have followed me here,” she said and sighed before taking out an apple and throwing it at them. The two squirrels began to fight for the fruit. “Not so shy anymore, huh. But stop fighting among yourselves. Predators are everywhere, so stay united and be on your toes, squeakies.” Despite her advice, the squirrels were fully invested in fighting over the rights for the apple. “Anyway, I should leave this place before more of them show up.”
A few minutes later.
Sariyu stopped by at a bread booth, a small open-fronted shop.
“Excuse me, is there any shop here where I can sell goods?” she asked.
The owner of the booth, a brown-haired blind man, replied, “No, madam. You must head to the 15th deck before you get to sell anything as we don’t have markets on the lower decks.”
“Mm, the fifteenth deck, huh,” she mused to herself. So I'll have to wait for now. “Where can I buy a map of the decks?”
“Map?” the blind man laughed transparently. “Madam, no floor of this tenth belt has a map.”
“What?” Sariyu was bewildered. Earlier, she saw some maps in the pocketbook, so she expected to buy the maps of some decks to get herself going. Now, the blind man’s words made her feel uneasy. “Are you saying nobody ever drew the maps of these decks?”
“Even if they did, they would be taken away by majors.”
“Majors? Why would they want the maps of the lower decks that they’ve already cleared?”
“I don’t know, madam. I'm blind to many things on this ship. Having lost my eyes the day I boarded the ship,” the blind man’s voice turned desolate, “even if I want to go back to my girlfriend, I can't. I don’t want her to see me in this state. In a few years, I’ll hit forty. If I can gather enough money and request some martial for help, I may just be able to see again. Then I can get out of this ship and finally meet Ayushi. But for now, I can only wait for that day, hoping it would one day come. Though working with these eyes is hard, at least for now, I’m blind to many of the evil acts that humans commit, so I’m not totally at a loss here, haha.”
Sariyu seemed slightly irritated. “If you don’t know, just say that you don’t know. Nobody asked for your biography!”
“U-Uh, my apologies,” the blind man bowed a little. "Can't help it. My tongue is weak when the story concerns me."
Sariyu was taken aback. "S-Stop bowing! You don't even know me."
"Hehe," the blind man rubbed the back of his head. "It's a habit, so I can't help it."
“Whatever,” she shook her head. “Anyway, I’m off,” she began to walk away, but after taking a few steps, she stopped and pondered for a second. From within her purse, she took out an inch-sized bottle filled with some sort of translucent gas. She came back and placed it on the desk.
Sensing everything, the blind man furrowed his brows. “What made you come back, madam?”
“This is Snow Turtle Fog,” She spoke in a stern voice. “Turn it into a liquid, and pour a drop in each of your eyes.”
"What for..." the blind man was about to say, but the moment his brain comprehended her words, he didn't believe his ears, and he froze right where he stood. It took him a few seconds to process everything, and he spoke in a desperate tone, "W-W-Will it cure my eyes?" His hands desperately searched for the bottle.
"It's a diluted version," seeing his struggle, she picked up the bottle and waved her arm in front of his hand a few times, but he kept searching for it. "So, I'm not sure of its success. You will not get your full vision back, but you might just be able to see blurry figures."
"Really? Snow Turtle Fog... I've never heard about it," His voice contained both delight and doubt while his hands still searched the top of the desk. "You are not playing with this blind man, are you, madam?"
He didn’t get a reply, but his ears caught the sound of the fading footsteps. “Madam, who are you?” He shouted but got no response. Later, he desperately searched for the bottle and got hold of it and wasted no time in hiding it inside his boxers.
He resumed his work as if nothing happened. At that time, he heard the voice of a street singer, who was the beggar from before, playing guitar while strolling past the booth.
As he was singing, the street singer in goggles and ragged clothes glanced at the blind man, who felt the stare on his skin.
“Alright. Alright. I get it,” the blind man picked up a loaf of sweetened bread. “I’m in a good mood now, and you’ve brightened it up a bit more.” He tossed the bread in the direction of the source the street singer’s voice came from.
The street singer caught the bread, sniffed it once, and then bowed a little. “May God bless you for your goodwill.” Saying that he put the bread in his backpack and walked away while strumming the guitar.
The blind man had a faint smile on his face. Now, he was in the mood to forgive even the person who blinded him. It was all thanks to the kind gestures shown by two people in succession. “My Ayushi is a human, too. So I do have faith in the capabilities of humanity not only being, but also doing good.”
At that moment, he heard footsteps coming in his direction. From the sound, he could tell there were multiple people, two to be precise.
A few seconds later, two bare-chested men came and occupied the bench situated right in front of the booth, not even a meter away from it. Wearing a mouth and a stretched-out tongue tattoo on their spines, they wore round silver earrings. Resting their elbows on the desk, they began to crack jokes with each other.
Flirters! Hearing their voices, the blind man frowned inwardly but acted as if he wasn’t affected by it. “White or brown?” he politely asked.
“What’s wrong, Jampa?” one of the bare-chested men with a spunky hair snorted. “Shouldn’t you be sweating your ass off in the Muscle Block? Who exchanged their places with you again?”
“I got paid some silver by the Gray Dogs to serve here till the next shift,” the blind man, Jampa replied. “Shall I make it white?”
“Gray Dogs?” the other guy with badly-dyed green hair said in an irritated tone. “Those crooked faces are messing with you as well? How low can they stoop?”
“Well, they at least paid me in coins. Even though it was only a little, gaining something is better than gaining nothing, so I’m not too worried,” the blind man said and then asked, “White or brown?”
“Forget about the bread, Jampa,” the spunky-haired man’s said as they both laughed and clapped their hands. “How about we focus on you gaining a few silver for the stuff you shoved in your pants?”
Jampa’s whole body shook, birthing a heavy feeling in his stomach. “What stuff are you guys talking about? I don’t have any—”
“Look, Jampa,” the spunky-haired man’s tone shifted gears. “You know who we are. So, let’s not play any more games. Give that turtle or some shit to us, and we’ll see to it that your effort will be remembered by our guild.”
Jampa stayed silent for a moment, tightening and loosening his fists in an iteration. “I can’t look, Mansar.”
Mansar, the spunky-haired man, lost some glow in his face as he glanced back at his comrade, who nodded once. He looked at Jampa and coldly said as his comrade also stood. “You have ten seconds to pull out what we need. Otherwise, don’t blame us for what will happen afterward.”
Jampa tried his best to control the fear welling up from the bottom of his stomach, but most of it ended up showing on his face. “I really don’t know what you both are talking about.” He took half-a-step backward.
“Eight seconds,” Mansar said.
“Please, brothers,” Jampa’s voice was a bit pleading. "Have some mercy."
“Don’t take it personally, Jampa,” said Mansar, in a slightly derisive tone. “A cow must graze where it’s tied... And you lost two more seconds.”
Jampa frowned.
“Five seconds,” the other guy said and chuckled.
“Oi, you two are in the way,” a voice sounded out from behind them, but those two were too busy counting the numbers, they didn’t bother turning back.
“I said, you two are in the way,” the voice sounded out again, just a bit hoarser than before.
Mansar didn’t turn back, but he showed his middle finger to his behind while saying, “Two seconds.”
“One second,” the other guy said and evilly smiled. “Hehe.”
“Zero second—” as Mansar was saying, a giant shadow engulfed both of them from behind. Startled, they turned back only to see a monster that towered them in every aspect. “D-D-Darling Twin—” Before Mansar finished his words, Elder Darling grabbed their heads and hammered them down, drilling their heads through the desk, opening two nasty holes in it. From the bang that erupted at the impact, Jampa jumped back in terror.
Elder Darling lifted them both into the air and effortlessly threw them in the opposite direction, one to his left and the other to his right. Face covered in blood, some teeth loosened and hanging down their gums, both of them collapsed on the ground with eyes whitened out.
“The low lives in these lower decks know not to respect their seniors.” Both of them occupied the bench, creaking it aloud. “The cake didn’t even serve as a snack. All the running had awakened our stomachs. Take out all the buns you have.” Their voices brought back Jampa’s consciousness to this world.
D-Darling Twins! Are these two really them? Jampa gulped his own saliva twice and hurriedly began to prepare the food. Seeing his speed, and after sensing with sniffs, both the brothers nodded in approval.
Younger Darling said, “Loot their pockets to get your desk repaired.”
Jampa didn’t know what to say. All he could do was smile and nod. "Yes, majors."
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