Kwak-kwak-kwak, kwak!
In an instant, several harpoons flew in and slammed into the ground beside me.
I somehow managed to dodge all of them, but...
"Isn't this a little too much?!"
"Starbuck! Pursue them!"
Damn it, there's no sign of them stopping. Mr. Dante... you abandoned me, didn't you, you bastard? You don't look like you have any intention of stopping them at all!!
Ting, tang!
At the perfect timing, I swung my harpoon and knocked away the incoming attacks.
I dodged a few more. And I did all that without slowing down even a little.
Of course I couldn't let those bastards close the distance in this situation, or I'd be surrounded and skewered on the spot!
Tsk. Mr. Dante's judgment is rational, at least...
"Whoa!"
Whoooosh──!!
"You dodged it..."
A sharply honed harpoon appeared right in front of me. I twisted my body at the last second to avoid it, but that wasn't the important part.
They'd gotten this far already? No, was I the one being lured in little by little?
Hmm... no, this was definitely a slow encirclement.
The prisoners, including Mr. Dante, were keeping their distance from me while gradually wearing me down from far away...
...I know this is the most efficient method, but getting put through it still pisses me off.
The buildings we'd have to climb, plus the variable of enemies slowed by the white-flower phenomenon—otherwise this would've been a clean kill.
In the end, we were the ones coming out ahead, but... somehow, they didn't look like they were all that interested in winning either.
Even if I can't use one hand, after chasing me this long they should've switched targets by now.
If they ever aimed for Mr. Dante...
I don't even want to imagine it.
Haa... ah. Damn it. My escape route's reaching its limit.
They'd finally spread the encirclement all the way out and blocked every direction I could run.
"Wow... I never imagined they'd go this far."
They've even shut down guerrilla tactics using the buildings.
Still, if they let us slip away after a half-assed chase, they'd only lose out. It's a reasonable move.
It's just absolute shit from the receiving end...!
"Got... you."
With my retreat cut off, Starbuck slowly walked toward me.
Checkmate. I was bait from the start anyway.
"I surrender, I surrender. I can't beat that. Just bind me or something. I don't particularly feel like dying."
"You're more... obedient than I expected... for someone who ran for their life."
"It's an order. You're no different, are you?"
"Not... wrong. Then come here."
"Yes, yes~"
I threw down my weapon and slowly moved forward.
There were... about eight of them in the encirclement, including Starbuck. They really did pile on like filth. There were only about thirty people fighting right now, at most.
Quietly, I searched for a way to break this situation. Where? Which direction do I move to shake them off, even for a moment?
There was no way with any ordinary method...
Just as my insides kept burning, Mr. Dante's voice came from far away.
"
QUJLa284MThkUDFKNkJLdW15bU9ZMy9XRnZNcWdXZ1FZVUh1V2ZzUFBOcVdLTXRud1ErdTBBU2c0WGl1RmJIVg
Saramago, duck!!"
Instinctively, I crouched, and a searing heat brushed over my head.
E.G.O! If it was that variable-packed attack, then hitting all the way over here was possible!
My brain finished calculating in an instant, and my body turned and ran.
Just as expected, there was a slight opening in the encirclement behind me, where a faint blaze was flickering.
Now!
"I'm going ahead!"
"Damn it..."
I wriggled through the narrow gap and finally escaped the encirclement.
Mr. Dante really is a competent commander. That timing was perfect.
Now run at full speed!!!
"Haa... huuh..."
"Are you all right?"
"Do I look all right?"
"No."
"You know me well."
After sprinting flat out all the way from that far off point to Mr. Dante's side in one breath, I let out a ragged gasp.
I really need to build up my stamina... That Mr. Heathcliff over there can just toss pacing to the wind and still scamper around just fine.
So if the body's lacking, the brain gets the punishment, huh.
"Still, that was good work. I'll praise you when we get back to the bus."
"Pfft. R-really?"
What did I just hear? That sounded weirdly embarrassing.
When I stared at Mr. Dante with a dazed expression, he gave me a thumbs-up.
That's new. Not a bad feeling, either.
Whatever. If that's the case, then I've been officially recognized, so let's rest easy for now. My hand stings, though. It'll probably heal when the clock turns later.
Then let's take a seat somewhere... and see how things are going.
Once I sat down and activated my eyes a little, a faint ache spread through me, and the battlefield began to come into view at a glance.
We had the advantage. The effort of pulling off such a large diversion had definitely paid off.
The prisoners were pressing the enemy without any major issues.
"Don't get excited! Keep formation!"
"Like that's easy to do! Manager! Got anything?!"
"Hmm... Saramago. Can you throw a harpoon?"
"Ugh..."
This is overwork. Pure overwork! It wouldn't be that hard if I just grabbed a few harpoons lying around on the ground and used those, though.
Should I redistribute identities differently, or use several E.G.O...? No. Is he trying to save his cards?
It doesn't seem like we'll only fight them this once, and if possible, it's better to conserve our hand... so rationally, I guess I should be the one to step in.
Haa... I rose to my feet with a heavy body and picked up a harpoon.
Now then... hmm?
The moment I took my throwing stance, the one wearing an iron mask opened his mouth for the first time.
"Strong. You. And, no. Sailor."
"Why... is your speech... so choppy? It's annoying. If you're not trying to shorten things, then you're just wasting time."
Honestly, I wanted to say that coming from your mouth is rich, considering how irritating your own speech is. And I can't even properly understand those abbreviations.
...That thought crossed my mind, but if I said it out loud, my life would be in danger, so I held back.
Just then, while the little banter continued, Ms. Ishmael's mace brushed past his mask by a hair's breadth.
Whoom!
"You should've moved aside quietly... Your head was about to fly off, you know?"
The battle entered a grim exchange. Thanks to the proper distribution of personnel, the prisoners had the numerical advantage and didn't let it slip away.
Dodge, parry. Attack.
After a few textbook exchanges, the man's mask suddenly, with a soft clack, fell away.
"And... you are right. Sailor."
"......"
Ms. Ishmael froze when she saw the face hidden behind the mask.
As if... struck by shock.
On her face, a complicated emotion that was not entirely negative was laid bare.
With that much information, anyone could guess the relationship between them.
"...Right. We're sailors of the same ship, after all. Queequeg!!!"
Ms. Ishmael shot forward like a bullet and threw her arms around the one called Queequeg.
As if she'd seen an old friend.
It's only my guess, but I doubt I'm far off.
"Wow... didn't you just say you were going to blow his head off?"
"Isn't that what it means to meet a companion? If you don't hug them like that, it feels like they'll fly off somewhere at any moment."
From the way the man was speaking, a glimpse of his past flashed through me.
And he himself had only recently reunited with his friends too... perhaps he felt something similar when he met them.
"Hair color. Can't forget. Know name. But not allowed. Attack captain."
"Why... I..."
"If attack again. I attack too. Then die. Kill or be killed. One of the two."
"......"
Ms. Ishmael's frustrated expression crossed with the captain's brazen one.
The captain, who somehow felt like she was mocking us, looked down at us without bothering to hide her ominous presence.
"Now, what will you do? Starbuck here rescued you with a generous heart... and even invited you into my town. Yet you repaid that kindness by trashing it and trying to attack me. If this had been a normal voyage, I'd have hung you from ropes, tossed you into the lake, and made you scrape the hull from beneath the ship."
"Things definitely aren't looking good..."
Mr. Dante looked troubled.
True enough. On the surface, this was a difficult situation.
If you include the ones who didn't join the fight earlier, more than forty people are glaring at us with hostility, and we have nowhere to run and no information about this place.
Of course, all of that only holds if that woman, Ahab, really intends to kill us.
If there's one thing I can say for sure, it's that unless we come at her like we're trying to die, that woman has no intention of killing us either.
Still, let's not say that out loud right now.
People like her are impossible to predict when they see someone who hasn't acted according to their will.
When there aren't any of her eyes and ears around... I can tell Mr. Dante quietly later.
"Hahaha!! Don't look so frightened. It's fortunate, really, because I am... a captain with a generous heart! I'll let your rudeness from just now slide. I have something to ask you, and I'm sure you do as well. So if you're willing to have a conversation with me, come into my captain's quarters. Peacefully, of course."
Having finished what she wanted to say, Ahab casually turned around and strode into another building.
I hate to admit it, but she's really damn good with words. She stripped out every disadvantageous detail and smoothly put us beneath her.
Then again, she must be able to command more than forty people like her own hands and feet because she's that good at speaking.
By the time that thought reached me, the pressure of being watched from all around had vanished.
As if nothing had happened, the sensation disappeared cleanly, and the prisoner most sensitive to hostility, Mr. Heathcliff, was the first to react.
"...Hey, the bastards behind us... they were glaring at us just a moment ago, and now they've vanished like nothing happened?"
"The captain. Forgave us. Then everyone, forgive. Me too."
"Hah... To turn your back on someone who was trying to kill you just a second ago like that..."
"Yes, that means she's confident. Confident that she has sailors who can stop us no matter how much we ambush them. And that the losses from us attacking her would outweigh the gains. Just by shaping the situation like that... she's effectively proclaimed herself an absolute being."
"......"
An absolute being, huh... Yeah, I can see how it would look that way. That was probably exactly what she intended.
"A peaceful conversation... what a load of crap..."
"Still, it's not like we have anywhere to go if we leave here..."
Ms. Ishmael's eyes followed Queequeg, who was silently trailing after Ahab.
"Haa. ...Let's go in. Let's hear what that son of a bitch has to say. We can't run anywhere anyway. Neither can they, nor can we."