The Final Desperation

The next morning marked the seventh day at sea, the day the exchange booth opened for workers to collect their payment. At the crack of dawn, a long line snaked through the hallways leading to the room. It wasn't anything fancy—just five walled-off booths arranged side by side. Aside from the tags indicating a booth's occupancy, nothing inside could be discerned.

Workers entered and quickly departed from these booths, ensuring a fast flow of traffic. Under this efficient procession, it didn't take long until it was Wade's turn.

A funky smell of sweat filled his senses as Wade stepped into the rightmost booth. He locked the door behind him and sat down at the wooden counter. A layer of reinforced glass separated him from the clerk, its surface smudged with the fingerprints of previous occupants.

At the bottom of the glass barrier was a revolving drawer, a metallic cylinder for exchanging items without direct contact. It could only be operated from the other side and ensured nobody would try anything shady.

"Base payment is 400. Every performance ticket gives you another 50. No questions asked," the clerk stated monotonously.

Wade put all seven of his tickets in the drawer, and the clerk rotated the cylinder. After a quick count, the clerk retrieved 750 remons from his register and spun them toward Wade.

Wade collected his payment and left without a word, letting the next person take his place. He quickly stowed away the money in a safe place before heading up to the deck to start his morning duties.

However, something was different today. When they finished their daily fishing tasks, a mouthwatering smell drifted from afar. Looking over, they spotted a full-time staff member pushing a food cart onto the deck. The cart had various breakfast items that stoked the appetite, a far cry from their usual meals. The man set up the cart off to the side and put up a sign.

Full breakfast tray - 28 remons
2 fresh cinnamon rolls - 9 remons
Egg and bacon breakfast sandwich - 12 remons
Crispy potato pancake - 8 remons
Strong black coffee - 6 remons

While not exorbitantly priced, these items did carry an upcharge that made them more costly than what they would find on the mainland. It was obvious what the company was trying to do. They knew it, the workers knew it, and even the guests knew it. But it was just too enticing to ignore completely.

The workers gulped down a mouthful of saliva and forced themselves to look away. They must not give in to the temptation! They were here to earn money, not squander it like a wastrel. Yet at the peak of their resistance, a crew member approached with a boisterous laugh.

"Ah, Mike, my man! I haven't had your food in so long. Give me two potato pancakes and a breakfast tray!"

The vendor obliged, and the person ravenously chomped down on his meal with delight. More audible gulps sounded from the crowd. As if just noticing them, the man looked over with (fake) surprise, and said, "Eh? What are you guys doing? Come on, buy something to eat. Didn't you just get paid? Don't just watch me. Enjoy your life a little, won't you? "

Though faint, the man wore the smug smirk of someone newly rich, eager to show off his wealth. While not an entirely accurate description, given the net worths of certain guests on board, he certainly enjoyed more freedom than the lower-class workers.

Afraid of what they might do if they lingered any longer, the workers quickly scattered, clutching their bills like their lives depended on it. Then they stormed the dining hall, anxious to satisfy their hunger. However, their food was especially tasteless today despite being the same as before. Just the mere exposure of that food was enough to strip them of their appetite.

The day continued in a similarly torturous fashion. Throughout their work, they had to endure the constant temptations of the food cart. Many workers were forced to watch as crew members enjoyed their morning meals while they slaved tirelessly at their tasks. It took every ounce of willpower—and then some—not to join them.

In this manner, lunch rolled around, and three more food carts replaced the previous one. This time, the options were even more fragrant and tempting. From grilled fish to savory noodles, it felt as if they'd stepped into an area specializing in flavorful foods. It was hard not to give in.

At this moment, Harris and his crew came down to solicit participants for his twisted games. "Why don't you play a game with us? You can eat as much as you want if you win a single round," he whispered like a devil on their shoulders.

But no one dared to accept his offer. They had seen the unpredictable consequences of his games and weren't willing to risk permanent disability to satisfy their cravings.

However, his comments sparked an idea in a worker named Hugo. Since they couldn't gamble with the rich guests, could they do so among themselves? Maybe just for pocket change? The idea wasn't unprecedented. So, he explained the concept to a few close associates and asked if they would be willing to help him organize such an event. To no one's surprise, they remained hesitant.

"It's just a few remons," Hugo reassured them. "It won't hurt anyone. If they win, they get to enjoy a delicious breakfast. If not, they'll still have plenty left to support their families. It's a win-win. Plus, as the organizers, we can use some tricks to keep a portion of the money for ourselves. Don't you want to try those foods as well?"

His associates wavered at first, but the temptation of good food eventually swayed them, and they agreed to help. That night, they gathered some of the less disciplined workers for another game. The audience was intrigued by the stakes but kept their distance.

In this way, the games lasted several hours before someone finally earned enough for a single breakfast, at which point they immediately backed out. The others, realizing they wouldn't get anywhere with such meager stakes, decided to call it a night as well.

The following morning, after their fishing duties, a few workers treated themselves to a full breakfast tray. Of these, only the previous night's winner ate for "free", while the rest gave in to their cravings and paid out of pocket, hoping to make up for their losses later that day.

Harris tried to initiate another game, but he quickly realized the workers were no longer interested in what he had to offer. They didn't even acknowledge his presence anymore. His words went in one ear and out the other.

"Tsk! Damm!" He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I sprung the trap too early." Then, with a disappointed sigh, he returned to his suite to conceive of other possible baits that might attract their attention.

Aside from that, lunch was especially fragrant today, compelling even more people to part with their money. This set a precedent in the workers' minds: perhaps it was fine to treat themselves every now and then. After all, these meals weren't too expensive, and they could easily afford them. It was not like they could spend their money on anything else during these upcoming months, right?

Capitalizing on this mindset, the crew offered a discount on dinner that day. From the way it was worded, it seemed like a limited event that might or might not come up again. If they wanted to try the food, this was the time to do so. To no one's surprise, this sparked a frenzy that led to 60% of the workers making a purchase. Of these, 15% had already made a prior purchase.

While these decisions were not great for their wallets, they satisfied their stomachs and brought about some much-needed contentment. With that, they retired to their quarters and began another round of wagers. Now that they'd tasted the joys of indulgence, they were more inclined to join the games, especially given the prospect of earning their next meal.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Thus, they suggested raising the stakes to make their efforts more worthwhile. The newcomers agreed and, by majority decision, implemented the change. This sparked a gambling fervor that consumed all rationality, reducing them to nothing but obsessed addicts.

It wasn't until many hours later, when someone lost all their earnings, that they snapped out of it. By then, however, it was already too late, leaving only regrets in its wake.

After exchanging a few awkward glances, the group dispersed and went to sleep. But throughout all of this, none of them comforted the loser of the night. Sure, they felt bad for taking all his money, but they certainly had no intentions of returning it. After all, they had worked hard for this sum! The loser could only blame his own bad luck.

"No, no, no, no! It's gone! Gone!"

The following morning, everyone awoke to a panicked cry. Looking over, they saw a fat man frantically digging through his belongings, giving each article of clothing a thorough shake.

"Gone? What's gone?" a curious fellow asked.

"My tickets! They're not there!" the person cried out.

"Maybe you just misplaced them?" someone else suggested.

"No! ALL OF IT! EVEN MY PREVIOUS ONES!" he shouted hysterically.

Everyone took a step back as the implications settled in. Either the man had gone mad during these few days at sea, or someone had stolen it. And given the recent events, people were inclined to believe the latter. As for who... only one person had a reasonable motive: the loser from last night.

The fat man soon came to the same realization and grabbed him by the collar. "It's you! It must be!" he screamed in the loser's face, spitting everywhere. "You wanted to make up for your losses! Hand it back, you bastard!"

"It's not me!" the loser denied. "I just woke up!"

"LIAR! Who else but you would have the incentive to do so? Tell me where you hid them!"

"Let go! I don't have your stuff!" The loser shouted back, pushing the man away.

"You dare?!?!" The fat man screamed after regaining his balance. "Then face the consequences!" Then he lounged at his target, grabbing him by the sleeve.

The loser, unwilling to be outdone, fought back with all his might, delivering a sharp jab to the eye. They tusstled for a few seconds before the fat man tackled the loser to the ground, mounted him, and rained several punches onto his opponent. The loser protected his head with crossed arms, but gradually lost strength.

At that moment, an angry supervisor kicked open the door and hollered, "Hey! What's with all the commotion this early in the morning? Can't you keep it down?!?"

However, the fat man was too caught up in his assault to notice the supervisor's entrance. Annoyed, the supervisor ordered the surrounding workers to pry the two fighters apart. In the end, the fat man had a black eye, while the loser bore countless bruises across his arms, a busted lip, and several abrasions on his back.

"Both of you are docked a ticket. Now hand it over!"

"He started it," the loser protested.

"I don't give a damn who started it! Cause another commotion and I'll dock everyone's pay! This is your last warning!"

Helpless, the loser could only give up a ticket, while the fat man had to explain that he had lost all of his. The supervisor glared at him for several moments, as if judging the validity of the statement before letting out an annoyed snort.

"Then it will be taken out from today's allotment!" With that, he stomped out of the room, leaving the two participants glaring at each other.

The tension gradually faded, and everyone subconsciously checked their tickets. To their relief, everything was as they remembered. Well... everyone but Wade, who now had six tickets, three more than he was supposed to.

His eyes widened in realization, and a cold sweat prickled down his back as he hastily scanned his surroundings. Every shuffle of boots and rustle of clothing thundered in his ears, as if the slightest sound would expose his secret. Luckily, everyone was still too caught up in their own relief, counting and recounting their tickets, to notice his strange behavior.

Wade quickly stuffed the tickets into his pocket, their edges crinkling loudly against the fabric of his pants, as he rushed out the door. Whatever the case, now was not the time to be caught with these extra tickets.

'Why do I have these? Who put them there?' His mind tumbled restlessly as he worked the fishing net over the side of the ship. A splash of seawater struck his face, jolting him awake. 'No, this isn't the time for that. I need to focus. The more suspicious I act, the more likely I'll be exposed.'

Wade calmed his mind and exerted his body to distract himself from any more incriminating thoughts. In this way, the morning passed in a haze. Breakfast came and went as usual, though more people splurged on themselves than before. It was as if all notions of saving money had left their minds.

Then came lunch, during which several alarmed cries drew the workers' attention. Tracing the source, they found themselves back at their quarters, where several people were digging through their belongings with the same franticness as before. A sinking feeling formed in their stomachs as they brought themselves to ask what was wrong.

"Gone! Gone as well," one person wailed.

"We came back for a break, but we noticed some items were misplaced," another explained.

Everyone's faces blanched as they rushed to check their personal items. After a quick review, they discovered that a dozen of them had lost all their prized possessions, including tickets and money.

"No, how can this be?! Who could have done this?" someone asked.

Desperate, they turned the room upside down, hoping to find the missing items in other people's belongings. A few dishonest individuals took the opportunity to swipe some "souvenirs" for themselves, exacerbating the chaos in an attempt to subsidize their losses.

In the end, they uncovered a few people's stashes with extra items, but it was evident that these had been planted as red herrings, since they didn't add up to the total missing amount.

"Dammit! They played us!" a frustrated man shouted, stomping on the floorboards.

When news of the thievery spread to the rest of the group, outrage erupted, followed by a heavy silence of distrust. With no clear culprit, the blame could fall on anyone—even a fellow victim. The previous group's invasion of privacy also left lingering resentment among acquaintances, straining relationships, and deepening disappointment.

Arguments eventually broke out among these people as frustration mounted, culminating in a wild brawl. The commotion irked the supervisors so much that they docked everyone's pay for the next day, which only heightened the workers' dissatisfaction with one another. With that, all semblance of unity collapsed as people began prioritizing their own interests.

After this fracture, no one was in the mood to enjoy a proper meal anymore. They would rather save what meager amount they had left than squander it like a pampered fool, especially given the circumstances. The after-dark gambling activities also ceased, as no one trusted each other enough to play fair.

In this manner, the day ended, and everyone went to sleep with their possessions tucked beneath their pillows. Amid so many uncertainties, this was the one place they felt safe keeping their items, as anyone trying to steal from them would have to disturb their sleep first.

Those who still had tickets clutched them like a drowning man to a lifeboat, afraid to let them go for even a single moment. This vigilance kept many people awake that night, as few were able to adapt to the task. Restless turning and the shuffling of bedsheets persisted throughout the night, alerting everyone else in the same situation to the disturbance.

When morning came, nearly half the workers had bags under their eyes to some degree. All of them had stayed up through the night, making their bodies stiff and their minds weary. The other half had gotten some semblance of rest, but barely had enough strength to work through the day.

Yet despite their condition, the supervisors gave them no respite. On the contrary, the workload spiked that day, as they had entered an area populated by large squids. For the people on the ship, these squids were considered a rare delicacy and a prized addition to their diet. Their succulent flesh, when prepared by the ship's skilled chefs, was a treat to enjoy.

Hence, the workers were forced to labor without pause, forgoing all breaks. Whether reeling in the nets, gutting the squids, peeling back their rubbery skin, or hauling the processed flesh down to the walk-in freezer, everyone was constantly on the move.

Net operators dumped load after load onto the floor, flooding the deck with aquatic flesh. Loud hisses and ink sprayed everywhere as these helpless creatures struggled for escape. The briny seawater soaked into people's skins, irritating them to numbness.

In this monotonous motion, Hugo's knife struck a hard surface. Focus returned to his eyes as he recognized what lay before him: a coral-covered, locked chest the size of a laptop. The frame was heavily weathered and lacked all luster, yet he still recognized it as solid bronze—a durable material highly resistant to wear.

Judging by its condition, he estimated it had been at the bottom of the ocean for at least several hundred years, collecting debris until it was retrieved at that very moment. Hugo's breath hitched as he realized what this meant. This was his ticket out of poverty and possibly into a new life! If he were lucky, he might never have to worry about money again!

'I can't let the others find this,' he thought. 'They'll never let me keep it.'

And so, he made an excuse to swap roles with someone, becoming a porter for the day. He then placed the chest on a large tin tray, covered it with layers of squid meat, and headed below deck in search of a temporary hiding place.

Yet what everyone failed to notice was that when Hugo stepped into the hallway, a strand of purplish-black energy leaked from the chest and seeped into the ship's walls, imbuing them with a strange property. If Genji were here, he would recognize it as the same energy that once clung to Wade's locket—one that would give rise to a malevolent force many would later come to know as Horror!