The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 744: Crisis

“Damn it…!”

The staggering first mate leaned against the door, holding onto the iron handle.

The mercury column in the barometer on the platform had long since fallen away without a trace.

The sailor stared at it and shouted without turning his head: "This thing is more cowardly than a rat in a brothel--"

"Damn it - is that thing still useful now?!" The first mate found a safe opportunity, pushed open the door, and went deeper into the narrow bedroom.

There was not enough space for three or two people, and their captain, Mr. Fitz Roy, who was harsh, precise, and always professional, was kneeling facing the wall.

He lit a candle in front of him, swayed to put out the flame, and then cut his finger with the knife he carried with him.

The room was covered with 'crosses' painted with blood.

Extremely horrifying.

"Fitz Roy!"

The first mate couldn't let go and grab him - otherwise he would be thrown out of the house in the next second and hit countless times.

"captain!"

Fitz Roy clasped his hands together and lowered his head in silence.

After he knelt down, he put himself in a perfect position so that he would not be knocked over by the waves before the boat completely turned over.

“…This is divine punishment, Palos.”

The first mate could hardly believe what he was hearing.

Divine punishment?

Who to punish?

It's a fucking tsunami!

"In all these years we've been at sea, have you ever seen a tsunami without any warning?"

Fitz Roy's voice was calm.

He was a devout believer, pious, loyal and sincere. He firmly believed that the Father of All Things created the world, and of course he knew what had caused this "miracle" disaster that could not be perceived by mortals.

To be exact, 'who'.

"Charles Robert Darwin."

Fitz Roy shook his head gently like a goose to stretch his windpipe.

It seemed as if an invisible noose was strangling him.

"I knew it..."

"Such a blasphemous act will sooner or later bring down the wrath of Father God..."

"Look."

"God's punishment is coming...it's coming..."

The first mate knew that Fitz Roy had faith, a firm faith. Unlike him, he originally believed in the Father of All Things and often went to church on his days off. But later he met a good friend who believed in his religion and heard about the "barefoot pure girl" - the girl of the hustle and bustle...

Then he converted.

He was not pious, and he knew it.

FitzRoy was different.

"…You can't act like a stupid candlestick…Fitz, we need you…quick! Time is running out!"

He shouted loudly, leaning in, trying to catch him with his hands.

At this time.

Fitz Roy turned slowly.

His face was as bloody and despair-like as the walls of the cabin.

"Listen, Fitz. If you were really pious, you shouldn't accept this long mission, right? Now, get out here! Maybe we still have a chance--" First Mate Palos tried to persuade him.

Only a bitter smile in return.

"I thought it wouldn't happen... I gave too much..."

He stumbled, as if confessing to himself and to the gods behind the bloody crosses on the bulkhead.

"Leave... Get out! Get out now! Palos! I want to pray to God the Father! If He forgives my sins, maybe I can go to heaven - farther and faster than you ungodly people! People like me will never go to hell..."

"I have to confess... It's all Darwin's fault... I actually stopped him many times... My crime is not serious... It's not too serious..."

Palos stared at him for a long while, spat at him fiercely, and used his wrist to throw himself out again.

The sea surface was about to sink into a huge funnel.

If there really is a god of the ocean.

"What's going on outside?!"

He shouted as he loosened his grip, allowing himself to slide down the plank and hit the hatch.

"The ballast stone has shifted!"

"All the windows—close! close!"

"Go deeper! Avoid turbulence and drops! Be careful of the drops! Carter! Where is Carter?! Fuck! Who put me—"

Click.

Boom.

The broken mast spun and hit Palos in the face.

The sound disappeared.

…

The sailors scurried like rats on the tilted deck.

The young sailor, who had talked about many interesting things with Roland, was hit by the rope that was like a giant python, fell into the waves, and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Fernandez, Jerez and Blade went down early to help, and brought a few spare cranks.

Roland held onto Shandel with one hand and pulled the sail rope with the other. After a series of snapping sounds, the only remaining hope was completely extinguished along with the sound of breaking.

"Cut off the jib-mast!"

The boatswain acted decisively, pulled out a scimitar from someone's back, and chopped it down diagonally.

There was a soft thud.

The layers of hemp ropes soaked in sea water are tougher than you might imagine.

Roland put his arm around Shandel's waist and ran towards the boatswain, shouting to the sailors along the way: "Get out of the way! Get out of the way!"

"Axe! Go find an axe! Get the woman out! Ke--" In the face of life and death, the boatswain forgot Roland's name and just yelled at him to find an axe and drive the woman who brought disaster away from the deck.

Roland went straight to the secondary mast.

Put down Shandel.

He pulled his arms back.

Snap——!

The lightning came as expected.

In the storm as bright as day, the spear-like palm and lightning pierced through the obstacles together!

Snap!

"Damn you holy boy! I knew you weren't a gigolo!" The boatswain punched Roland twice on the chest. After passing him, he looked at the whirlpool for a few seconds, then turned around and ordered, "Rum! There's rum in the bottom warehouse! Go - no, have they already gone - down?!"

"Someone tell them!"

"Vintage! The captain still has vintage—go!"

"Full right! Full! Full—First Mate?! Palos?!"

The raindrops in the storm hit the face like bullets, and the occasional exploding white light was mixed with black waves like tentacles that swept away life.

Lightning and thunder.

The dozens of feet of disaster made the powerful ritualist look as small as a mortal.

Roland had already noticed that many wooden boards were cracking.

This mobile cemetery is about to reach its end.

"Xandel, I'm afraid we have to-Xandel?!"

A huge wave came over, and Roland and Shandel were swept off the deck and headed into the tilted whirlpool of the abyss.

The loose rusted fence made a harsh scream.

Crunch.

Roland held one end with one hand and held Shandel with the other.

Heavy rain and wind.

No one could notice what was happening on this end.

Two men hung outside the boat, swaying with the storm.

"Roland!"

The sea water soaked through Shandel's nightgown, and her long hair stuck to her face, like a head of gray seaweed...

"It's pretty cute."

-

Of course.

"Why do you say that? I seem to be getting used to your suicidal personality..."

-

Why?

"Because I have no other options! Think of a way to get up there, idiot!!"

Roland grinned, looked up at the iron railing that was about to break, and then looked down at the girl who was blown like a rag.

The storm was so strong that it drowned out all the shouting.

'It's as soft as cake...'

Roland opened the floodgates of his soul, letting the "secrets" pour out like a torrent.

Soon, the fluffy side was easily stepped into by the toe of his boot.

'And as hard as steel.'

finally.

He fixed it.