Saiyan stowaways on the Ark

He had no interest in caring who would be chosen as the test subject in tonight's lottery.

As long as it can serve as a comparison sample for conversion, it will be fine.

He came outside simply to reconnect—a connection that had just been abruptly severed.

Hai Si, whom they respectfully addressed as "messenger," had suddenly lost contact with them earlier.

This doesn't refer to electronic communication, but rather to a kind of telepathic transmission of consciousness.

The consciousness of the Sealings is interconnected, and they can immediately disseminate the information they acquire to all their respective groups.

Once an individual acquires information about evolution, the entire group can possess the same abilities.

Therefore, they are different from selfish species like humans.

They are selfless and would not do anything that would harm the group for the sake of an individual's life, death, or benefit.

They are powerful; the growth of an individual is the evolution of the group, and even a small dinosaur can contribute to the prosperity of the marine population.

They prioritize the interests of their species and grow relentlessly until one day the ocean will no longer be their only habitat, and the whole world will become their home.

—At least Quintus thinks so, and he is trying his best to emulate them.

This led to his first encounter with the "messenger".

He was overjoyed after being called "brother".

After accepting the "deal," he devoted himself wholeheartedly to his work.

Everything is for the sake of becoming a member of this great race.

After countless experiments, his body underwent changes.

After repeated devout prayers, he was able to hear voices.

For him, these were all important proofs of his status as a Haisi.

But just now, Quintus could no longer hear the messenger's whispers—shortly after He left, claiming to have come to investigate the cause of the sea's turmoil.

The messenger said that someone was swimming in the sea.

Could it be that person who influenced the sea?

Could it be another filthy deep-sea hunter brought by Goredia?

It's impossible—how could a filthy bastard possibly stand against a noble sea envoy?

Even if a battle were to break out, he should have been able to sense it from deep within the cave.

Quintus felt confused and anxious because of his lack of understanding, and the inferior Sea Siblings were not enough to provide him with sufficient information.

"Great messenger, why did you leave without saying goodbye?"

Quintus arrived at the church gates, stood on the towering cliff, feeling the stench of the sea breeze, and attempted to re-establish contact with the messenger in this environment.

But because he was outside, in this environment with excellent visibility, he saw that in the dark Saltwind City, there seemed to be beams of light flickering.

It's not the only remaining Originium lamp in the park.

It was not a candle placed in a dilapidated building for nighttime lighting.

They lined up in a row, swaying and moving slowly through the streets and alleys.

The flames joined together, illuminating the street they were on.

Quintus's eyesight was beyond that of ordinary people, so he clearly saw the crowd that shouldn't have been there.

Holding torches aloft, they formed a stream of people and marched through Saltwind City.

And the direction it moved was directly pointing to his current location.

Why do they come to church?

When did they lose the will to make torches?

Shouldn't they be at home "looking forward" to the next day's feed after they've finished harvesting the shells?

What exactly do they want to do?

Quintus believed that the glimpse he had gleaned from Haisi was enough to give him a mind that surpassed human intelligence.

Neither the philosophy of survival nor the practical technology are things that ordinary people can achieve.

But now he couldn't understand the purpose of these people who had been deprived of their will—or rather, he didn't believe in that tiny possibility.

"They're just ignorant people; how much wisdom could they possibly have?"

"Just an inferior creature, how much power could it possibly have?"

While inwardly despising them, Quintus also reminded himself not to have such pointless thoughts again.

So, he, who considered himself a superior being of great wisdom, came to the foot of the high cliff.

At this moment, the residents carrying torches also arrived at the block closest to the church.

One end was filled with countless flames.

On the other end was a bishop, all alone.

A ray of light shone down—the bright light of the two moons.

For some reason, a corner of the huge dark cloud was torn apart, and the rare moonlight was a sight that Saltwind City had not seen for a long time.

But no one looked up, as if such a sight was nothing unusual, or perhaps they remained oblivious to the changes around them?

"Wow! Grandma, look! The moon!"

That's not the case.

Anita, still amazed by the rare sight in the crowd.

But she didn't know that the lack of reaction from the elderly was simply because moonlight was not unusual in the past.

Having regained their memories, they also regained their common sense and mindset, no longer getting distracted by things that were already commonplace.

Back then, the sea breeze wasn't fishy, ​​the sky was azure, and the moon was frequently seen.

Before the bishop could speak, he still intended to use his usual refined and amiable tone to question these people.

But before that, angry roars echoed throughout the entire Saltwind City.

"Quintus!!!! I'm going to kill you!!!"

[Event] Beneath the Tide, All Seafood: Chapter Seventeen - Is That All?

Based on Quintus's understanding of Hess, he believed that Hess did not possess any kind of emotion.

Because he had never sensed anything like that from the messenger.

They possess only rational and wise thinking, thus they have no need for the byproducts of self-awareness such as anger, sadness, or joy.

Quintus, who blindly imitates Hai Si, usually interacts with outsiders in a refined and easygoing manner, even with the ignorant people he despises, all in order to mentally align himself with the race he admires.

But now—mere words and curses, without any connection between consciousness—made Quintus realize that the ignorant masses before him were unleashing an uncontrollable rage.

He hadn't felt any emotions from the outside world for a long time.

"Don't run away!!!"

Quintus made no move; he simply looked at the people who, for some reason, still held onto these emotions.

In their hands were not just torches.

Stones, machetes, iron bars, pitchforks, ropes...

They clutched objects so crude they didn't even deserve to be called weapons.

This is the only source of strength people have now.

With a weak wrist, stones were thrown at Quintus—their former bishop—whose body appeared frail.

His aim was terrible, and the few that did hit were blocked by his incredibly flexible body for some reason.

Quintus did not avoid the question, but remained standing there blankly.

It was as if everything around him had nothing to do with him.

But the angry people would not hesitate because Quintus did not resist.

They charged straight at the bishop they hated so much—rusty blades and pitchforks were the first to pierce him.

His robes were torn, and his weapon was embedded in Quintus's body.

More and more people rushed forward, crowding around the hideous flesh and blood, hoping to vent their anger on him with their fists, feet, or weapons.

Quintus did not resist at all.

"Look! He really is a monster!"

People ripped off his robes, revealing his bluish-gray scaly skin and lower limbs completely replaced by tentacles.

"Kill him! Kill him!"

Even without shouting, everyone who could reach Quintus was doing everything in their power to destroy his body with the thought of killing him.

"Give us back what we've lost!"

The residents grieve for what can never return, and they inflict that same grief on Quintus in ways they can understand.

The murky flesh and blood spread out beneath their feet, and only when someone realized that the other party had long since lost its original shape did they gradually stop striking.

"Dead...dead?"

The evil bishop was thus crushed without resistance by the wrath of the crowd.

Could it be that I was manipulated by such a guy because of hunger, and then lost everything?

"That's it? Is that all the skill you've got? Who gave you the guts to do all this?"

Those who had lost everything but regained consciousness and memories were already prepared to fight the bishop to the death because they had lost so much.

No matter what, there could have been a bloody battle, but the reality has turned out this way, and there has been no further movement so far, which has left them feeling somewhat lost and resentful.

Is my life ruined by guys like this?

Such a flimsy thing?