Fenrir is the last one to wake up below deck and roll out of his hammock, and Cassiel is the first one to greet him. “What took you so long, you bastard?! Do you know how close you are to being too late?!” she shouts at him.

“I know, I know. Sorry,” Fenrir replies.

Cassiel’s hands look tempted to grab onto his collar to shake him around, but instead, she drops her hands to her sides and looks away. “Are – are you feeling better now?” she asks with a quieter voice than before.

“Yeah, I am. Thanks. Guess I’m just a sore loser, so between that prick getting underneath my skin and then breaking my promise to Nell, I was being immature. Not used to losing,” he explains. Looking around, he sees that Cassiel is the only one below deck with him. “Where’s everybody else?”

“You better be alright now… and they’re up above.”

“So you’ve been waiting down here for me by yourself?”

Cassiel’s hands end up grabbing onto his collar after all. “Sh-shut up! I was worried since you were taking so lo—”

Fenrir sneaks in a quick kiss on her lips since she’s placed her face right in front of his own. The sudden kiss lights up her cheeks and causes her hands to drop from his collar. “D-don’t do that without warning me, you bas—”

He kisses her again.

Cassiel shuts her lips, forms fists at her sides, and makes a noise that sounds like she’s trying to angrily shout at him but it just sounds like angry squeaking thanks to her closed lips.

“Come on, we’ve got a tournament to win,” Fenrir says, grabbing her by her hand and leading her above deck.

“Told you he’d make it,” Serra says as soon as she sees them.

“I’d never miss this. Hey, Serra, is it me or,” he starts asking while looking at her waist.

There was a load of screenshots in his Fiscord chat with her when he woke up today. The screenshots featured the two girls, mainly Serra, with all sorts of seafood.

Now he sees the result of that.

“Ma-maybe practice moderation next ti—” he continues saying but is wise enough to stop when he sees Serra looking at him with a glare that usually only Cassiel gives him. “A-anyways, is everybody ready?”

Looking over The Shoebill, he sees everybody ready and… he looks down at himself. His clothes are still all torn and bloody from the other day. “Being an anime protagonist where my clothes are somehow always the same and repaired instantly after every fight would be really convenient right now,” he says. Only Serra and Oleander seem to understand what he’s saying as the rest look confused. Well, there is one other who seems to understand.

“What sorta stuff ya watch?” Tabitha asks.

“You – do you watch anime?” Fenrir asks her.

“Course I do!”

“What sort of stuff do you watch?” he asks. When he thinks of Tabitha and anime, he thinks sci-fi and mecha. After all, she’s a total gearhead, so wouldn’t it make sense for her to like mecha?

“Magical girls,” Tabitha proudly says with a nod and her arms crossed over her chest.

“You – seriously, you watch magical girl anime? Like, the stuff made for kids?” Fenrir asks, trying to keep his jaw from dropping onto the deck.

“Course I do! Most anime is just full of edgy harem-loving boys like yourself, always goin’ around and savin’ girls for ‘em. I like my shows where it’s the girls savin’ themselves, and no better genre than magical girls for that! More girls need to be watchin’ magical girls to learn how to stand up for ‘emselves.”

Thanks to Tabitha’s explanation, it totally makes sense now for her to like magical girl anime, even if it’s tailored to little kids. Then again, she does look like she’s hardly a teenager herself. “By the way… how do rebirth counters work if you – if you uhh, you know, look underage?” he asks her.

“Don’t beat around the bush. You can say I look like a kid if ya want to. Anyways, it depends on where ya live. If ya live in a country or state where fictional depictions of pedo stuff ain’t allowed, then you’re stuck tryin’ to get them in the other and way harder ways.”

“Doesn’t that mean anybody who plays underage looking characters, if they live in a place where that sort of stuff isn’t allowed, is pretty disadvantaged compared to everybody else?”

“Yup! But you’re given that warnin’ when ya make your character, so ya have nobody but yourself to blame for dealin’ with it.”

“How many counters do you have?”

“Seven!”

Anybody who wasn’t paying attention to their conversation is now. “How?” Fenrir asks.

“Don’t worry about that, wolf boy. Like I said earlier, a girl has gotta know how to help herself!” Tabitha explains.

Fenrir looks at Serra and Cassiel. They’re both nodding and look like they’re taking mental notes.

“Anyways, aside from magical girls, do you at least like mecha?” he asks Tabitha.

“Nope,” Tabitha answers, making it even harder for Fenrir to keep his jaw from dropping.

“Seriously? I would’ve bet money on that being one of your favorites.”

“It is. I’m just screwin’ with ya. I’ve got tons of models I’ve put together and painted in my room!”

“Alright, that makes more sense.”

Tabitha smiles a wide, cheeky smile. It’s the kind of smile that makes him want to protect her in an almost fatherly way, but then he realizes that she would probably kill him if he starts seeing her as somebody who needs protecting, so he shakes that idea out of his head.

“Anybody not participating in the tournament is to get behind the yellow lines painted around the harbor!” a feminine voice announces using Blackstache’s owls that are circling around the city. “This is the final chance for participating crews to board their ships!”

Five minutes after the announcement and mighty horn blares throughout the city.

A dome of electrical energy rises around the harbor out past the tower near the entrance to the city.

While the dome cackles with electricity at first, its bluish hue not allowing anybody outside of it to see what is within, it calms and becomes almost perfectly transparent.

The crowd outside of the dome and the crews within it both cheer.

“You have two hours to catch as many fish as you can! There are almost two thousand crews participating in this first round, and we expect most of you to be sitting at the bottom of the ocean by the end of it! The top twenty ships to survive and catch the most fish will be moving onto the second round!” the announcers explains.

“Wait – seriously? Only twenty out of two thousand ships are going to make it to the next round?” Fenrir asks.

“That many ships on the water at once – my steering isn’t going to be enough if you don’t want to hit anything. It’s going to be ship-to-ship out there. A thousand could sink and it’s still going to be congested,” Oleander says.

“This is what happens when you don’t restrict how many people can sign up,” Cassiel adds on. “But if you do, players complain, so instead this ends up happening.”

“Tabs, you make any of those carcass shots?” Fenrir asks.

“Only finished a couple of ‘em, and they’ll be way too dangerous to use with how busy it’s gonna be out there,” Tabitha answers.

“Yeah, I’m not a fan of starting some uncontrollable fire that spreads between all the ships. I just want to take down that prick’s ship.”

“What’s the plan?” Oleander asks.

“There are no rules for this first round! You may fight, you may steal, player kill, and you may use whatever tricks you have – anything goes! Now, put on a show for the King of Pirates and all of those whom have gathered to watch you compete! Begin!” the announcer declares.

The cheering is almost loud enough for Fenrir not to be able to hear himself think.

Ships launch from the piers all around them and head out onto the water.

It takes less than ten seconds for volleys of cannon fire to erupt.

One stray cannon shot shoots right past The Shoebill and collides into the dome erected around them, instantly vaporizing the shot.

“Guess that explains why a miniature war is allowed in the middle of the city,” Fenrir says.

“Captain, what are we going to do?” Corwin asks.

With a roll of his shoulders, Fenrir picks up Rod, walks over to the side of the ship facing away from the pier they are docked at, and drops his line into the water. “We fish,” he answers.

“Right here?”

“Why not? No point in leaving the pier right now. It’s the safest spot from everybody else, we won’t be jammed between hundreds of other ships, and all the fighting and movement out there is going to scare all the fish away from the center where everybody else will be at.”

Corwin looks around and sees a few dozen other ships near their section of the piers doing the same thing. Jax’s The Weeping Tit is one of them.

Serra and Cassiel pick up their rods and stand next to Fenrir.

“Are you not worried about being a still target?” Corwin asks.

“The only ones able to easily shoot us right now are the others staying over here, and I’d bet you money that they’re in this for the fishing instead of the fighting. So, let’s get ourselves a nice lead on the fish count, and then we’ll see what the situation is like out there,” Fenrir explains.

Corwin picks up his rod and walks over to them. “If you believe that this is the best course of action, then I will have faith in you.”

“And what are we supposed to do while waiting?” Oleander asks.

Now that Fenrir thinks about it, he probably should have bought a few more fishing rods so that the others could help out or at least to use as spares.

“Uhh,” Fenrir tries thinking of an answer. “We can take turns?”

“This why I hate fishing. Too boring,” Bonekraka groans.

“If ya don’t mind, I’ll be layin’ at the bow gettin’ some sun,” Tabitha says.

Another cannonball flies by the ship’s mast and slams right into the electric dome. While everybody else flinches from it, Tabitha slips down the goggles that are usually on her forehead and secures them around her eyes before sprawling out on the deck next to her still-covered contraption.

“High power level,” Serra whispers to Fenrir.

“Yeah, she’s definitely got a high one,” Fenrir says, looking at the orange-haired loli kicking her feet with her hands behind her head as a miniature war rages before them.

Cassiel's rod is the first to get a tug. "Got one!" she announces.

Fenrir and Serra return their attention to their own rods.

He sees dozens of fish swimming beneath the water and more are arriving every minute to escape the disturbances near the center of the dome.

With cannons firing, players shouting and screaming, and nearby crews cheering with every catch they make, Fenrir couldn't ask for a better environment to fish in.

One of the fish below takes a bite out of his lure. Jerking his rod in the opposite direction that it is swimming in, he successfully hooks it and begins the fight to reel it in!

A fiery determination fills his eyes, and both of the girls can see it just by taking quick looks at him.

The depressed, angry boy from yesterday has been replaced by the determined, fiery man that they both fell for. Just looking at his eyes fills them with confidence that they are going to win this tournament. At this moment, not a single other soul is as determined as him to win.

His competitive side has been brought out in full, and now he will show the sort of confidence and determination that was required to lead one of gaming's most notorious groups.

Catch fish. Sink that annoying bastard's ship. Win the tournament. Save Nell.

That is his plan, and it is a plan that he has no intention of failing.