The room erupts in loud shouts.
"LET'S GO!"
Oliver points to the far left—his posture sharp, his left eye hidden beneath an eyepatch like a weathered captain.
"Santiago, bring my guitar."
Santiago rises with a grin. One hand lifts his champagne. "Alright, boss."
Oliver shifts his finger to the far right—a heavyset man whose right leg is replaced with a wooden prosthetic.
"Bartra, get moving. You're in charge of keeping the ship alive tonight."
Bartra gives a thin smile, lifting his glass. "Of course, Boss."
The twins beside him—Grizz and Gruzz—raise their drinks the moment Oliver calls their names.
"EVERYONE READY?!"
His roar shakes the bar and spills out into the night. I hear it clearly from where I'm standing outside.
So… yes. They're a unit—each one filling a role, all pulled together under Oliver. I can't deny a small smile.
Oliver hops back into the carriage with unfiltered enthusiasm.
"MOVE OUT!" he commands. The driver snaps the reins, and the carriage shoots toward the harbor.
The others follow behind him one by one.
Another journey across the sea begins.
Hours later, we reach the port. Their ship is already prepared—Santiago's message sent by his pigeon did its job. No waiting. We board immediately and set sail for Zepharia.
Just like I heard earlier, they go all-in.
Everyone dances, laughs, moves like the weight of the world isn't sitting on their backs. Oliver plays his guitar, his voice carrying across the deck. Bartra—fat or not—joins the rhythm without shame.
"Even with that belly, Bartra dances better than you," Rose remarks beside me.
She offers her hand.
"Want to try?"
I glance at her briefly but give no reply.
I stay silent and watch the others dance.
Morning becomes noon. Noon drifts toward night. Lunch was dead quiet—a stark contrast to the journey here. They collapsed into sleep afterward, drained from all the excitement.
I imitate them. I head to the back of the ship, lean against the wooden wall, wrap myself in my cloak, and sleep alone.
"Hiro…"
A whisper. I can't place its source.
"Hiro…" Again.
"HIRO!" Rose yells, snapping me awake.
I lift my head, blinking away the blurriness.
"Dinner's ready. They're waiting for you to start. Come."
She extends her hand.
I nod slightly, stand on my own, and walk on my own. Her hand drops. I follow her from behind.
On the way forward, something in the water catches my eye—movement. Like a worm rising and sinking back beneath the surface.
I almost tell Rose.
But maybe I'm imagining it. The sky is dark; nothing is clear.
I look up.
The moon's light hasn't fully settled over the night yet, but the dinner lanterns already glow bright enough to carve out their own warmth.
"Join us, Hiro," Oliver calls.
"We're starving," Grizz adds.
"Hurry," Gruzz follows.
I give a small smile and sit with them. The dancing worm flickers in my mind for a moment—but I push it aside.
I can deal with it later.