From afar, Baratie looked like something that did not belong.
In the middle of a merciless sea, the structure stood tall—a massive ship reshaped into a floating restaurant. Heavy wood. Thick plating. Slow. Unwieldy. And yet, because of that, it endured.
I stopped on a jagged reef overlooking the water.
The wind here was different from Syrup Village. Harsher. Saltier. The smell of iron and oil mixed with the deep scent of the sea. These waters were not meant for amateurs.
"If this place gets attacked…"
I let out a slow breath.
"…it won't be just one or two people dying."
Shadow Sense spread the moment I stepped into the area. Not like a village. Not like a quiet shore. This sea was saturated with intent—too much of it. Residual rage. Fear. Violence that had yet to spill, waiting for a trigger.
I narrowed my eyes.
"This isn't just one ship."
I climbed higher onto the rocks and looked toward the horizon.
Floating debris came into view. Broken masts. Torn sails. Shipwrecks that had not yet sunk completely. Some were still smoldering, their flames stubbornly clinging to wet wood.
I swallowed.
"An armada."
Not one. Not two.
Many.
I descended and moved along a narrow stretch of shore beside Baratie. I did not approach directly. Not yet. I had no intention of being seen by anyone inside the restaurant.
Baratie was lively. Servers moved back and forth. The clatter of dishes echoed from within. Rough laughter mixed with sharp shouting.
It was alive.
And that made it fragile.
The system appeared without warning.
—
[Main Quest Updated]
Title: The Restaurant That Defies the Sea
Description:
Ensure the Baratie conflict proceeds according to canon
Restriction:
You are not allowed to attack Don Krieg
Status: Active
—
I read the text twice.
"Not allowed to attack Don Krieg."
A faint smile tugged at my lips.
"As if I could."
I moved closer to the underside of Baratie's massive hull. From here, I could clearly see the thickness of its structure. Reinforced plating. Layers of repairs. Countless patches.
This was not a peaceful building.
This was a survivor.
Shadow Sense pulsed again.
This time, it wasn't coming from Baratie.
It was coming from the sea.
I stood still and focused.
Something was moving beneath the surface. Not fish. Not currents. Organized motion. Disciplined. Numerous.
I spoke quietly.
"This isn't empty water."
I watched the rippling surface.
"If I move like I did in Syrup Village…"
I shook my head.
"…I die."
I took a deep breath and forced my emotions down.
There were too many enemies. Too many access points. The sea offered endless entry routes. No walls. No clear boundaries.
"Shadows aren't safe here."
I stepped back and found a higher vantage point. From there, I could observe the underside of Baratie and the surrounding waters. I spotted heads surfacing briefly before vanishing again. The movements were fast. Controlled.
"Infiltrators."
I clenched my jaw.
"Don Krieg hasn't shown himself."
"But his people are already everywhere."
I rubbed my face with one hand.
"If they all climb up at once…"
I stopped myself.
I already knew the answer.
Baratie would turn into a slaughterhouse before the main battle even began. Canon would collapse—not from overwhelming power, but from overlooked details.
I closed my eyes.
"I can't clear them all."
"I'm not allowed to."
"And I'm not capable."
The system remained silent. No Side Quest. No Hidden Quest.
Not yet.
That silence was more terrifying than any alert.
I looked at Baratie again.
Inside were people who mattered. A chef whose life was bound to the sea. A straw-hatted idiot who would choose food over retreat. A swordsman who would be gravely wounded.
All of that had to happen.
Just not the wrong way.
I spoke softly as I turned away.
"If I want to survive here…"
"…I have to change how I operate."
I moved away from Baratie, taking a wide route along the sea. I did not approach. I did not board. I did not ask questions.
I observed.
For the first time since arriving in this world, I realized something.
Being a shadow wasn't just about hiding.
In a place like this, a shadow had to choose where it must never appear.
And Baratie was the place that would force me out of my comfort zone.
—————
I moved farther from Baratie and followed a quieter stretch of shoreline.
My steps matched the rhythm of the waves. Wet sand muffled my movement. I stopped behind low rocks that offered a wide view of the open sea. From here, Baratie was partially visible—close enough to watch, far enough to stay detached.
"The sea isn't empty."
I focused.
Shadow Sense no longer pulsed from a single direction. It spread out, fragmented into multiple points. Many small clusters moved with consistent patterns. Some surfaced briefly to breathe, then vanished again.
"Divers."
I watched carefully.
They weren't swimming randomly. They moved in small groups of three or four. The distance between groups was deliberate. Their routes intersected. Some headed toward Baratie's hull. Others circled underneath. A few remained farther out, maintaining distance.
"This isn't chaos."
"This is formation."
I clenched my jaw.
"Don Krieg learns."
In the distance, another shipwreck drifted. Unlike the others, this one was not completely destroyed. Its hull was patched crudely. A torn flag fluttered weakly.
I recognized the shape.
"A defeated captain."
"And still alive."
I didn't need to see his face to know who was aboard.
Don Krieg had not stepped onto the stage yet, but his shadow already filled these waters.
The system appeared again.
—
[Environmental Analysis]
Enemy density: High
Infiltration routes: Multiple
Civilian risk: Extreme
—
Recommendation:
Avoid direct engagement
Maintain observation position
—
I gave a faint snort.
"For now."
I adjusted my position and moved closer to the underside of Baratie from another angle. The sounds from inside were clearer here. Plates clashing. A chef yelling. Customers laughing.
Life went on.
And that made everything more fragile.
I spotted two heads surfacing near the hull. They clung to the metal, whispered briefly, then submerged again. Their movements were calm. Professional.
"If they climb up together…"
I shook my head.
"Zeff won't even have time to react."
I climbed to a higher rock and mentally mapped their routes. No notes. No markings. Just memory.
The system remained quiet.
I spoke under my breath.
"If I act now, I violate the restriction."
"If I don't act, Baratie collapses before it's supposed to."
I stared at the darkening water.
"Bad choice. Worse choice."
I sat behind the rock.
For the first time since arriving at Baratie, the sense of pressure became unmistakable.
"This isn't Syrup Village."
"There's no night to clean things up."
"There's no small town to protect quietly."
I looked at my hands.
"I can't disable them all."
"I have to choose."
The system appeared once more.
—
[Status Update]
Mental Load: Increased
Existence Stability: Maintained
Current Interventions: Zero
—
Note:
The main conflict has not begun
The intervention window will be extremely narrow
—
I let out a slow breath.
"Narrow window."
"I know."
I stood and moved farther from Baratie, searching for a vantage point that gave me full coverage of the area. I needed to see when everything would move. When the main stage would ignite.
From afar, I noticed a small ship approaching from another direction. It wasn't damaged. It moved casually.
A straw hat was clearly visible.
"So they've arrived."
I felt no relief.
Only pressure.
"Once they step aboard…"
"…everything explodes."
I stepped back and positioned myself between Baratie and the open sea. Not in front. Not behind.
To the side.
A terrible position.
But the only one that gave me options.
I spoke quietly.
"If the system is pushing me out of my safe zone…"
"…this is where it happens."
I waited.
The wind strengthened. The waves grew restless. The divers surfaced more frequently now too frequently.
They were losing patience.
Then the notification I had been waiting for... and dreading... appeared.
—
[Survival Quest Triggered]
Relentless Tides
—
Description:
Survive in an active maritime conflict zone
—
Failure Condition: Death
—
Status: Active
—
I closed my eyes for a brief moment.
"Fine."
I opened them and stared at the sea, now thick with murderous intent.
"I can't retreat anymore."
I stepped forward.
Not toward Baratie.
Not toward Don Krieg's ship.
But toward the dark water beneath the hull.
Where shadows were meant to work.