NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 171: Chapter 171.Zou
The ringing in Charlie's ears hadn't faded when the Azure Guard stormed The Salty Rivet. Armored figures in cerulean breastplates and fish-scale pauldrons flooded the tavern, stun-batons crackling with blue energy. Their arrival was a silent, efficient counterpoint to Ember's chaotic fireworks and the groans of the downed Enforcers. Before Aurélie could fully sheath Anathema, before Bianca could scramble out from behind the booth, before Souta's ink serpent could fully retract, they were surrounded.
"Hands where we can see them! All of you! Cartel sympathizers, you're coming in!" barked a sergeant, his voice amplified by a vox-grille on his helmet, the sound harsh against the lingering echoes of explosions.
Kuro sighed, a sound like steam escaping a valve. He slowly raised his gloved hands, the retracted Cat Claws hidden. "A regrettable misunderstanding, officer. We are merely—"
"Save it for the Commander," the sergeant cut him off. "Move!"
They were herded out into the chaotic street. Smoke from Ember's pellets mingled with the ever-present welding fumes and the salt tang of the sea. Bioluminescent coral embedded in walkways cast shifting, watery light on panicked faces and the retreating backs of both Enforcers and Coral Consortium members. The Azure Guard moved with practiced ruthlessness, shoving Charlie when he stumbled, ignoring Bianca's indignant "Hey! Like, careful with the schematics!" Aurélie walked stiffly, her grey eyes fixed ahead, Anathema held loosely but ready. Souta moved like a shadow, observant and silent. Ember skipped, humming a disjointed nursery rhyme, occasionally poking a guard with a giggle. "Tick-tock, copper lock!"
Their destination was a fortified watchtower overlooking the central dock nexus – Port Authority HQ. It was a brutalist structure of riveted cloud-steel and reinforced glass, humming with unseen machinery. Inside, the air was cooler, filtered, but carried the faint metallic scent of gun oil and ozone. They were marched into a stark interrogation room: bare metal walls, a bolted-down table, harsh light from overhead Starlight Coral fixtures that cast deep, unforgiving shadows.
Commander Lysandra Reef entered moments later. She was tall, imposing in her tailored azure uniform, her dark hair pulled back severely. A scar traced her jawline, and her eyes, the cold grey of deep ocean trenches, swept over them with predatory calculation. A heavy pistol holstered at her hip and a data-pad clutched in her hand completed the image of controlled authority. She stopped directly in front of Kuro, who stood with his usual deceptive stillness.
"Report stated Cartel agitators in league with Coral Consortium saboteurs," Lysandra stated, her voice clipped, devoid of warmth. She studied Kuro's face – the aristocratic lines, the cracked glasses, the meticulously slicked-back hair save for that one defiant strand. Her gaze lingered, sharpened. "You. The one in the suit. Look at me."
Kuro met her gaze, adjusting his spectacles with a gloved palm – a smooth, practiced gesture. "Commander Reef, I assure you—"
"Klahadore?" Lysandra interrupted, the name dropping into the tense silence like a stone. Her brow furrowed, a flicker of genuine confusion crossing her stern features. "No… that's not quite right. But the resemblance… East Blue? There was a riad? You were declared dead? Years ago." Her eyes narrowed, probing. "You look like a ghost, mister. A very polished ghost."
Aurélie's gaze flickered towards Kuro, a micro-expression of assessment. Bianca blinked, confused. Charlie fidgeted, sweat beading on his forehead again. Souta remained impassive, but his inked wolf seemed to ripple slightly under his sleeve. Ember giggled, drawing a crude skull in the condensation on the metal table.
Kuro's expression remained utterly composed, the picture of polite bewilderment. "I fear you mistake me for someone else, Commander. My name is—"
"Save the alias," Lysandra cut him off again, her voice hardening. "That look… that precise, calculated stillness. It's familiar. And I don't like familiar ghosts in my port." She gestured sharply to two guards flanking the door. "Separate him. Cell block Delta. I want his prints, retinal scan, everything cross-referenced with old East Blue bulletins before we continue." Her gaze swept the others, cold and suspicious. "He stays isolated until I know exactly who he's haunting."
The guards moved instantly, grabbing Kuro's arms. He offered no resistance, merely casting a final, inscrutable glance back at the group – a look Aurélie noted held no fear, only cold assessment – before being marched out. The heavy door clanged shut behind him.
The silence that followed was thick, broken only by Ember's tuneless humming and the low thrum of the building's ventilation. Charlie squirmed, his eyes darting nervously between Aurélie and the implacable Commander. "This is… ahem… most irregular! We are scholars! Adventurers! Not… not agitators!"
Lysandra ignored him, her steely gaze landing on Ember, who was now trying to balance a stylus stolen from a guard's belt on the tip of her nose. "And what," Lysandra asked, her voice dripping with icy disdain, "is her situation? She nearly leveled a market block."
Souta spoke from his position near the wall, his voice a calm, flat monotone that cut through the tension. "She has had a difficult childhood. Trauma manifests unpredictably." He offered no further explanation, his sharp eyes fixed on Lysandra.
Lysandra raised a single, perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Haven't we all?" she retorted, her voice devoid of sympathy. "Doesn't give her license to turn my docks into a fireworks display."
Aurélie shifted, the faint scrape of her boot on the metal floor drawing Lysandra's attention. "Commander Reef," Aurélie stated, her voice low and steady, cutting through the unease. "What do you intend to do with us?"
Lysandra looked them up and down, her gaze lingering on their varied attire – Aurélie's practical warrior garb, Bianca's grease-stained overalls, Charlie's rumpled explorer khakis, Souta's sharp trench coat, Ember's chaotic Lolita dress. "You don't look like locals," she conceded grudgingly. "Your ship, the… Silent Gambit? Looks like it tangled with a Sea King and lost. But…" Her gaze flicked pointedly towards the door Kuro had exited. "He bothers me. And chaos follows you like a bad smell. I have questions. Many questions."
Souta stepped forward slightly, his posture relaxed but his eyes watchful. "Our presence is temporary. We require repairs. Cloud-Steel plating, Starlight Coral lenses. Once acquired, we depart. We have no interest in your… local disputes."
Lysandra let out a short, humorless bark of laughter. "Depart? Oh, that's rich." She tapped her data-pad, bringing up a schematic of the sprawling, interconnected docks. "See those?" She pointed to massive hydraulic joints visible between the artificial islands. "Retractable bridges. Primary access points. Your ship is currently isolated in Drydock Sector Gamma. And as of twenty minutes ago…" She tapped the screen again, displaying a glaring red 'LOCKDOWN' symbol over the entire shipyard payment network. "The Iron Syndicate, our resident tunnel-dwelling rats, decided to flex their claws. They hacked the central cred-system. Froze all assets. No payments can be processed. No materials released. No ships leave. Not until their ransom demand is met."
Bianca groaned, slumping. "Like, seriously? Hacked? Can't we just, like, pay them? Or hack back?"
Aurélie's grey eyes narrowed slightly. "What is the ransom?" Her voice was like honed steel.
Lysandra smirked, a cold, predatory expression. "Wouldn't you like to know? It's Syndicate business. Point is, gentlemen and… ladies," she added with a glance at Ember, who was now whispering intently to her charred rabbit plushy, "you're not going anywhere. Not for days. Maybe weeks. Enjoy the sights of Port Concordia. Just try not to blow any more of it up."
The news hung heavy. The path to Elbaph, already damaged and diverted, now felt completely blocked. The tension in the room ratcheted higher. Charlie, overwhelmed by the pressure, the confinement, the sheer academic fascination of the retractable bridge system and the audacious hack, suddenly couldn't contain himself. His fear momentarily overridden by scholarly fervor, he blurted out, "Weeks? Preposterous! The structural integrity of the central pylon junctions alone suggests a vulnerability in the hydraulic dampening systems! A focused electromagnetic pulse, perhaps? Or rerouting the auxiliary power conduits through the old Smuggler's Tunnels – their existence is practically an open secret hinted at in the foundational blueprints! And the cred-system! It's likely running on antiquated Ohara-derived encryption protocols! Cross-referencing Cartel transaction logs with Coral Consortium labor manifests could reveal backdoor access points! Why, with access to the primary network hub, which must be located near the central weather control array for optimal signal dispersion, I could—"
He stopped abruptly, realizing everyone was staring at him. Aurélie and Bianca wore identical scowls of profound irritation. Souta's expression remained unreadable, but his head tilted slightly. Ember paused her whispering to giggle. "Nerd-vomit!"
Commander Lysandra Reef, however, was no longer smirking. She was staring at Charlie with a look of intense, calculating interest. The cold grey of her eyes had sharpened, replaced by something resembling avarice. She slowly lowered her data-pad.
"Scholar Wooley, was it?" she asked, her voice losing some of its ice, gaining a new, dangerous warmth. "You seem… unusually well-informed about our port's infrastructure. And its… vulnerabilities." She took a step closer to him, ignoring Aurélie's deepening scowl and Bianca's muttered "Like, oh boy, here we go…" "Tell me," Lysandra purred, "how would you like to earn your freedom… and expedite those repairs?"
Before Charlie could stammer a reply, a deep, resonant clang echoed through the building, followed by a heavy grinding vibration that shuddered up through the metal floor. Through the reinforced window, they saw it: the massive retractable bridge connecting Drydock Sector Gamma to the main shipyard platforms slowly, inexorably pulling back, gears screaming in protest. The Silent Gambit, already wounded, was now completely cut off, a lone island in a sea of enforced isolation. The Iron Syndicate's message was clear. Port Concordia was locked down, and this rag-tag crew, tangled in its treacherous currents, had just been handed a dangerous lifeline by their own talkative scholar. The hunt for Marya had hit another, even more complicated, snag.
*****
The low thrum of the engines vibrated through the submarine's steel bones as Elbaph's silhouette shrank to a jagged shadow on the holographic chart. Outside the thick viewport, the sunlit surface world dissolved into the deep blue twilight of the ocean's upper layers. Jelly, a quivering sphere of turquoise excitement, bounced rhythmically against the co-pilot's seat restraints. "ADVENTURE! BLUP! DEEP DIVE! FISHY FRIENDS SOON?" he pulsed, casting shimmering light on the polished control panels.
Marya, strapped securely into the pilot's chair, ignored the gelatine's exuberance. Her fingers danced across the holographic interface, cold blue light reflecting in her focused eyes. Charts of complex thermoclines, the seven currents, and pressure gradients overlaid navigational buoys. Sabaody Archipelago glowed as a distant cluster of waypoints. "Hold the enthusiasm, Jelly. Deep currents first," she murmured, her voice calm amidst the hum. She selected a sequence of pre-plotted coordinates – a series of locations to breech so that the engines have time to cool and recalibrate. Her finger hovered over the initiation button. "Engaging Bubble Porter."
She tapped the glyph.
The hum deepened, becoming a resonant growl that vibrated Marya's teeth. The sub lurched violently forward, not like acceleration, but like being yanked by an invisible tether. The viewport blurred into streaks of indigo and black. Jelly splortched flat against his restraint harness, vibrating with startled BLORPs!. Pressure gauges spiked momentarily before stabilizing. For a heartbeat, it was smooth, a sensation of immense speed without visible reference.
Then, chaos.
They burst out of the Porter's compressed air corridor like a cork shot from a bottle. Klaxons SHRIEKED, drowning out the engine's growl. Every panel on the console erupted in frantic crimson warnings – COLLISION, PRESSURE SPIKE, GYRO FAILURE. The sub bucked like a wild sea beast caught in a net. Marya's harness straps bit into her shoulders as she was slammed sideways, then upward. Loose tools clattered violently in storage lockers. Her research reference materials scattered about, Jelly became a frantic blue pinball, ricocheting off the ceiling, walls, and viewport with wet SPLATs, leaving shimmering trails. "WHEEEEEE—BLARGH!"
The deafening, mournful, resonant OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO of an Island Whale echoed through the hull, a sound so profound it vibrated Marya's very bones. She snapped her gaze to the main viewport.
They weren't in open water.
They were inside a pod. Massive, impossible silhouettes filled the view. Barnacle-encrusted flukes the size of warships swept past mere meters away. Ancient, intelligent eyes, glowing faintly in the gloom like drowned moons, seemed to glance incuriously at the tiny metal intruder. The sheer, staggering scale was suffocating. The submarine was a minnow among leviathans.
"Damn whales," Marya hissed, fighting the bucking controls. The sub was caught in the turbulent wake of a passing giant. It pitched violently starboard, instruments screaming incoherently. Then, with a sickening lurch, it was flipped end-over-end. Marya saw the ocean floor spin past the viewport, then the dark surface far above, then the flank of another whale. Jelly splatted pancake-flat against the main viewport, his form quivering like blue jelly pressed against glass. "FLAT JELLY!" he managed to pulse weakly.
Just as Marya wrestled the sub partially level, an immense, dark wall of water surged towards them. Not a whale – the titanic, churning column expelled from a blowhole. They were directly in the path of a whale's cleansing spray.
WHUMPH!
The impact was colossal. The sub was engulfed, not crushed, but violently launched upwards within the pressurized geyser. The world outside became a roaring, churning maelstrom of white foam and green water. G-forces slammed Marya back into her seat. Jelly peeled off the viewport with a wet shloop and plastered himself against the aft bulkhead. Warning lights flickered and died as systems overloaded. For terrifying seconds, they were airborne inside a liquid tornado.
Then, the roaring ceased. The pressure dropped. The sub fell.
Not into the sea, but onto a rushing, shallow river of water flowing over an impossibly vast, mossy surface. It hit with a jarring CRUNCH, skipped like a stone, and tumbled sideways, metal shrieking against rock-hard hide. The world outside the spinning viewport was a dizzying blur of green moss, gnarled bark the size of city blocks, and… buildings?
From Outside – Kurau City, Zou:
A Mink child, its fluffy raccoon tail twitching, stopped chasing a glowing firefly. It pointed a clawed finger upwards, eyes wide. "Mama! Look! Sky fish!"
Other Minks paused – a burly bulldog guard lowering his spear, a graceful gazelle woman dropping her basket of starfruit. High above, silhouetted against the twilight sky filtering through the colossal canopy of the Whale Tree, a sleek, dark metal object tumbled end-over-end amidst a torrent of water cascading from the heavens. It had been spat forth like an errant seed from Zunisha's mighty trunk, still glistening from its impromptu shower.
"By the Sun God's tail!" breathed the bulldog guard, adjusting his spectacles. "What in Nox's name is that?"
"It's falling!" yelped the gazelle woman.
The object – a submarine, though none on Zou had ever seen one flying through the air – hit the flowing river channel carved into Zunisha's broad back. It skipped, spun, and careened down the central waterway of Kurau City, bouncing off ancient stone walls, narrowly missing rope bridges, and sending startled sheep-minks bleating for cover. Water splashed high, dousing market stalls and wide-eyed onlookers. It was a noisy, chaotic, and utterly bewildering descent. Finally, with a groaning THUD and the sharp crack of snapping branches, it came to rest – wedged sideways between two thick boughs of a massive, flowering tree overlooking the city square from the forest, dripping river water and steam.
Inside the Submarine (Sideways):
Silence. Utter, deafening silence, broken only by the frantic dripping of internal fluids and the panicked blip-blip-blip of a single, stubborn proximity sensor. Emergency lights cast long, crazy shadows across the canted control room. Marya hung suspended in her harness, the straps straining at a sharp angle. Every muscle ached from the battering. She took a slow, deliberate breath, pushing down the surge of adrenaline-fueled frustration. Calm. Assess.
Jelly peeled himself slowly off the bulkhead, reforming into a wobbly sphere. "...ADVENTURE?" he pulsed, sounding dazed.
Marya unclipped her harness with stiff fingers, dropping lightly onto the now-vertical starboard bulkhead. She scanned the dead consoles. Useless. Her gaze went to the main viewport. Instead of ocean depths or sky, it was filled with dense, vibrant green foliage and glimpses of a startlingly blue sky beyond. Huge, unfamiliar flowers brushed against the reinforced glass. The sub creaked ominously, settled deeper into the branches.
"Where the hell are we?" she muttered, more to herself than Jelly. The air smelled wrong – damp earth, lush vegetation, and woodsmoke, not salt and pressure.
The sub lurched again, groaning as the branches shifted under its weight. Time to go. She focused, her form dissolving into swirling, dark mist. The mist flowed effortlessly through the strained harness straps and coalesced beside Jelly, who was trying to ooze down the tilted floor. A tendril of mist looped around his core. "OOH! TICKLY!"
Mist-Marya flowed to the top hatch (now oriented sideways like a door). She solidified just long enough to grab the locking wheel. It resisted, bent from the impact. Planting her boots against the bulkhead for leverage, she heaved. Metal shrieked, then gave way with a protesting clang. Mist streamed out through the opening, carrying Jelly with it, just as the sub settled further with a loud crack of breaking wood.
They emerged into warm, dappled sunlight and the cacophony of birdsong. Marya solidified on a broad, moss-covered branch thicker than a mainmast, Jelly splorting beside her. The Eternal Eclipse, its dark blade humming faintly, was secure on her back. Below them lay a breathtaking, impossible vista: a bustling city of treehouses, rope bridges, and furry humanoid figures staring up in stunned silence at the metal monstrosity lodged in their sacred tree. The air hummed with the deep, almost subsonic vibration of a living landmass taking a step that shook the very roots of the world. Marya scanned the alien canopy, her stoic face unreadable, but her mind racing. Elbaph's charts hadn't mentioned this.