When we returned to the bus, an obnoxious face was there to greet us.
I wondered if I should punch him. If that deranged bastard hadn't neglected his duties, we wouldn't have ended up in this mess.
I really, really, really wanted to hit him, but Mr. Vergilius seemed to be in a foul mood, so I held back. It was absolutely not because I was intimidated by his strength.
Was he irritated because we'd brought an outsider along? Hm. That man did seem more reliable than the self-proclaimed guide standing right in front of us.
Whatever. Let him handle it himself.
"Unexpected, Ms. Faust. I never imagined that you, of all prisoners, would bring such a big shot to this shabby place."
"Tch. I wasn't expecting a warm welcome or anything after dying and coming back to life, but..."
"Yes... I suppose I'll have to reopen private counseling for someone whose hands can't seem to stay to themselves."
"..."
Mr. Heathcliff, who had been whining, shut his mouth. I should probably sneak in a few hits later and pretend it was an accident. Right now, I could kill him on the spot if I wanted to, but I'm holding back.
"I judged him to be someone who needed to be deployed in the operation."
"And the reason?"
At Mr. Vergilius's question, the old man answered instead of Ms. Faust.
"Because I am likely the only one who can catch that pale whale."
"The Indigo Elder."
Mr. Vergilius called out his epithet... wait, Indigo Elder... a Color? That man had a Color after all?
Back then, I was sure he was just called some kind of fixer from the Great Lake... come to think of it, he'd said he'd taken down one of the Five Calamities earlier.
...Now that I think about it, Ricardo had mentioned him having a Color too. I was too out of it to catch it properly.
Mm... so he really is the Great Lake's greatest oddball. He actually went and hunted down one of those insane things with sheer obsession.
"Indigo? You mean a Color? Are you saying I'm in the same place as two Colors right now...?"
"Now, now. Take a deep breath, Mr. Don Quixote. You'll hyperventilate at this rate."
Mr. Don Quixote's breathing was getting dangerously erratic, so I calmed him down for a moment.
The word Color... that definitely changed the prisoners' expressions. They hadn't been that different before, but now there was a little more color in their eyes, so to speak.
Whether they reacted or not, those people didn't seem interested in us.
"I heard he roamed the lake hunting whales. According to the latest rumors, he even caught one of the Five Calamities, the all-piercing bluefin whale."
"...Mm."
"From the circumstances, the Golden Bough... was swallowed by a whale drifting through the lake. The pale whale, one of the Five Calamities, that was said to have been seen in the Outskirts."
"...As expected. Yes, that would make sense. In the end, it would follow that flow."
Tsk. I'd like to see that flow too. I used to see it just fine. Now I can't remember it at all.
Intuition... I can only perceive it abstractly, as a vague shape, not clearly. Even that doesn't come through unless I'm in danger or my emotions are running high.
"We've wasted enough time. Let's get to the point. I want to catch the pale whale."
"And we have nothing but time to spare."
"Also, we know where that whale is headed. You're someone who must have spent a long time observing and waiting for the right opportunity, learning your own method of catching it."
"..."
While Mr. Vergilius and Ms. Faust, the representatives of the bus, and the old man, the negotiation target, were talking, Ms. Ishmael abruptly cut into the conversation.
"How about this? If you want, I'll become bait or whatever else you need. The method is..."
Right after that, Ms. Ishmael made a truly insane proposal.
I was pretty shocked too... no, to be honest, it was the kind of proposal that left my mouth hanging open.
Mm... let's save the details for later. It'll be revealed soon enough anyway.
"...You're crazy. You got beaten like a dog earlier, and now you've gone completely off the rails."
"This is simply my objective. The Golden Bough just happens to be along the way. You decide for yourselves. Ah, but the Manager's decision is the most important one. In any case, this company and I are merely searching for a way to achieve our goals."
"..."
The old man looked at her. His face, marked by decades of age, gave away no expression easily.
"And besides, there isn't exactly any other viable method, is there?"
"I'm against it. The fact that you're even entertaining that as a normal line of thought is the problem."
Thwack!
I immediately smacked the back of Mr. Heathcliff's head with my hand.
"Hey, you piece of—! What the hell was that for!?"
"No. You don't get to speak right now, so shut up."
"..."
Maybe he sensed real intent in my glare, because he obediently clamped his mouth shut.
Or maybe it was because he'd seen me trying my hardest to contain the consequences of his huge mistake earlier.
Thank goodness. If he'd talked back, I was planning to kill him first and worry about Mr. Vergilius later.
At this point, if I thought about the price of the painkillers I'd taken after overexerting myself... should I just kill him? Regular painkillers don't even touch it, so I'm using something absurdly expensive.
If I think any more about it, I feel like I'll start getting a headache again, so let's stop. Haa...
"There's one question left. Red one, are you joining this hunt as well?"
"..."
After a long silence, the old man suddenly tossed the question at Mr. Vergilius, who took a moment to choose his words.
"I have neither the hobby nor the expertise for hunting the fish that live beneath the water... But there's something more important than that. Unless it becomes the worst-case scenario, I won't be stepping forward."
"..."
He just watched even in the worst-case scenario... would be a bad thing to say, right? I don't have the hobby of getting hit for free, so let's not say it. I'll pay my debts later...
After hearing Mr. Vergilius's answer, the old man started walking as if to leave, and Mr. Otis hurriedly grabbed him.
"Wait... could you give us a moment? Even if the guide doesn't participate, there may still be a chance. If we plan carefully, we should be able to carry it out ourselves, so to give up so hastily..."
"I never said I was refusing. If you want to catch the pale whale, that noisy screaming boat of yours won't be enough."
"Screaming? I didn't think Mephistopheles was that loud."
"We need to approach closely and quietly, so what we need is a narrow but sturdy boat."
At that, Gregor, who had been listening intently, seemed to notice something odd and immediately voiced his doubt.
"...Hm? Then why did you agree so quickly when Vergilius said he wouldn't help?"
"Exactly... I thought you'd refuse since you'd be losing a hand."
"You shouldn't try to understand the way people like that think."
"...Is that so?"
Ms. Rodion wore a puzzled expression.
But I didn't really have anything to say either. The thought process of someone who spends their life hunting the Five Calamities of the Great Lake isn't something you're meant to understand.
"The boat you mentioned is already prepared on our side. If necessary, we can provide another one."
"No, mine will be enough."
When the old man refused Ms. Faust's offer, Mr. Heathcliff once again showed how little he knew.
"That fishing boat? It looked like it'd fall apart if the whale just flicked its tail."
"No, that boat... despite its shabby condition, it won't break easily."
"It's made with X Company alloy. That must have been hard to obtain."
Right. People with workshop knowledge like Ms. Otis, and researchers like Yi Sang, would notice immediately.
"Could it be... that too is one of the benefits granted to a Color?! I've heard rumors..."
"Mm..."
Rather than answering the flood of questions being thrown at him, the old man walked over to Dante.
"...?"
"From the looks of it, the sailors in the lake have survived this long thanks to your clock. I don't know the principle behind it, but it must be some kind of Singularity. However, it will be an ability that won't work on that whale. So from here on, don't blindly believe you can turn everything back."
At the old man's chilling words, Dante answered with a question instead.
"Why... why did you agree even after hearing that Vergilius wouldn't help?"
"He's asking why I accepted the operation even without Mr. Vergilius's help."
"That's the wrong question. If Red had stepped forward, I would have refused. If Red and I went together, we could catch that whale for certain, though it would take time. One of us would die. So if Red had stepped forward, I was planning to refuse."
"..."
"That would mean it wasn't something I caught."
What a madman. People like that really aren't meant to be understood. If you try to understand someone who has firmly established their own world, it'll swallow you whole.
"What do you mean? I don't understand..."
"It means I can't run into my limits."
At the implication that he wasn't chasing the whale as a goal, but simply wanted to fight it for himself, Ms. Ishmael pushed back.
"Limits? What are you talking about? Even if it means using every available means..."
"If the city drawn on the map, and the Outskirts beyond its borders, are the line drawn by human fear. Then beyond that lies a place where stars exist that people cannot even understand, let alone fear. I am a fisherman seeking to cross that line and confront that understanding."
"You mean beyond the Outskirts?"
Ms. Otis asked, but no answer came.
I can infer it... no, not even infer. He's definitely talking about beyond the Outskirts. There's nowhere else that description could fit.
Stars... no, never mind. It's meaningless.
The old man's next words were in the same vein as before. Catching the whale was about reaching his own limit. After confirming that she understood him correctly, Ms. Ishmael objected again.
"That whale... it swallows everything and brings calamity wherever it goes... How are you supposed to..."
"Ah... you're a sailor who has been prey once before. The many lakes here also swallow everything and bring calamity. Someday, when you're placed at an important crossroads. If you ever come to think that your own life is not worth regretting at all... then remember what you just heard once more."
"..."
"I'm not used to giving advice. Let's just call it a sense of kinship with someone rowing the same boat."
That was the old man's last exchange with Ms. Ishmael.
After that, the conversation and the rough plan flowed smoothly, and we naturally began boarding the small boat prepared on Mephistopheles.
One by one, the prisoners started getting onto the boat.
And then, when it was Ms. Ishmael's turn to board...
Dante suddenly asked a question.
"Ishmael, what is it that you really want?"
"What I... want..."
"...!"
In that instant, Dante's field of vision overlapped with mine.
The sensation of Ms. Ishmael's intense image resonating with the Golden Bough rose up.
The clock pulsed along with it, projecting her image into my sight.
"Ishmael... you..."
Ms. Ishmael within that image could not be described kindly, no matter how hard one tried.
In her eyes was an obsession bordering on madness. And exhilaration.
She was hauling up fragments of what looked like a captain's corpse. Her whole body trembled with satisfaction as she looked at the corpse fragments and the consciousness that had been completely severed from them...
"What are you doing? Let's go already."
At her urging, Dante and I snapped back to our senses.
...Hah, mm...
We were momentarily at a loss for words at the sudden, shocking sight, but in the end, Dante and I had no choice but to move our feet.
There was nothing we could do after being hit with a scene like that so abruptly.
And so everyone boarded the little boat...
and the boat began moving forward with a quiet sound.
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