At her request, Marisol managed to borrow two more Highwind dolls from Daniela—while forcing the first doll’s repair bills on Victor—and from then on, it was nothing but travelling back and forth between the inn and the whirlpool for her.

  Three weeks passed. Between her daily meals, her morning beat-up training sessions with Victor and the Highwind Dolls, and her evening extermination-slash-patrol missions in Depths One and Two of the whirlpool, she had barely any time at all to sit down and breathe. Sure, she was getting paid a pretty hefty salary for every mission she hopped in on with the Imperator siblings, and it wasn’t like she was being forced to go on missions, but she hadn’t been this exhausted in a long, long time. Victor was the culprit for most of it. His ‘training’ sessions where he’d always dial the dolls up to eleven were usually far more painful than her actual missions in the whirlpool.

  Thankfully, on the first morning of her third month in the city, Victor threw something at her window from outside, and it wasn’t a notice to go up to the roof for training.

  She was already up, having finished her breakfast a while back, and doing her usual stretching routine—then her head snapped over to the window, her hydrospines standing on end.

  A pebble.

  Without hesitation, without really noticing it, she kicked the little projectile out of the air. It would’ve hit her on the head, but she cleaved it in two instead and jumped out the window in the same motion, pouncing at the old man on the opposite roof with her apiclaws extended.

  He smirked at her, hitting her in the head, shoulder, and waist with his walking cane. Her momentum halted completely. Before she could even groan and crumple, Victor hooked the curved end of his cane around her neck and started dragging her up the city, humming delightfully with every step.

  “Not bad,” he mused. “You used to get hit by the pebble every morning, but now you can hear it coming and cleave it into two pebbles, which means the innkeeper will charge you more for the cleaning fees.”

  “You’re paying, old man,” she muttered, rubbing her shoulders as she let herself get dragged across the roof.

  “I’m pretty sure the Imperators are paying you more than they’re me nowadays, so you foot the bill.”

  “Bull. How am I getting paid more?”

  “I barely dive these days. Stands to reason they don’t pay me as much as the new, young, pretty little lady.”

  “So you’re a freeloader.”

  “Basically. Now straighten your back and show me your status screen. You’ve gotten your share of points the past three weeks, right? Did they deliver the bug meat right to your doorstep?”

  Marisol grumbled, but didn’t resist. Since he’d all but admitted by now he could actually see her status screen—probably because they both have Archives—she clicked her tongue at her Archive and made her screen pop up next to their heads.

  [Name: Marisol Vellamira]

  [Grade: F-Rank Mutant-Class]

  [Class: Water Strider]

  [Swarmblood Art: Charge Glaives]

  [Aura: 2,714]

  [Points: 27]

  [Strength: 5, Speed: 5, Toughness: 5 (+1), Dexterity: 4, Perception: 4 (+1)]

  [// MUTATION TREE]

  [T1 Mutation | Striding Glaives Lvl. 4]

  [T2 Mutations | Basic Gills Lvl. 3 | Repelling Hydrospines Lvl. 5]

  [T3 Mutations | Basic Apiclaws Lvl. 3 | Streamlined Wings Lvl. 5 | Basic Setae Lvl. 2]

  [T4 Mutations | Basic Discharge Lvl. 2 | Basic Sonar Lvl. 2 | Basic Underchitin | Basic Chitin] 500P

  [// EQUIPPED SYMBIOSTEEL]

  [Ghost Crab Scarf (Grade: F-Rank)(Tou: +1/1)(Aura: -200)]

  [Remipede Earrings (Grade: F-Rank)(Per: +1/1)(Aura: -100)]

  All in all, she’d hopped into around twenty patrol missions the past three weeks. She’d teamed up with the Imperator siblings each and every time. The patrol missions pain decently well, and they were never too zany—not after that freak copepod attack three weeks ago. All she really had to do was march circles around either Depth One or Depth Two to make sure the commercial divers were safe, and that there weren’t any anomalies around. If an anomaly was spotted by any patrol team, though, they wouldn’t usually engage the bug on the spot. They’d surface, gather information, and then the administrative division in Lighthouse Five would assign an extermination mission for volunteers to jump in on.

  And extermination missions were where the points were at.

  Marisol had no idea how frequent extermination missions popped up, but at her insistence, Bruno had snatched up every last one of them they saw on the bulletin board in Lighthouse Seven, so she completed around…

  Five of them? Six?

  [Seven.]

  Seven extermination missions in three weeks. So they weren’t that frequent, but Great Makers, there were tons more types of crustaceans she never even knew existed in the world. Over the past three weeks, she’d fought two C-Rank Giant-Class hermit crabs, three B-Rank Giant-Class giant isopods, four separate clusters of B-Rank Critter-Class krills, and even chased down a B-Rank Giant-Class sea louse that’d attached itself to the underside of a giant trout. That last one took a nasty long time to kill. The fish just wouldn’t stay still, and Marisol had to be the one to skate after it on her glaives because the siblings’ pistol shrimp claws didn’t have that much range.

  Fortunately, the extermination missions paid very well, and the rewards were always equally divided between the four of them. At the Archive’s advice, she’d even written a card asking Lighthouse Five to just chop up the crustacean meat and send it over to Daniela in the inn, who would then turn the meat into scrumptious meals fit for a king. That was how she’d been getting her points recently, and…

  How much did I get?

  [Give or take six hundred points. Considering a third of the Imperator initiates are still in the infirmary, nobody is taking those low-rank extermination missions, so the four of you are all growing much stronger, much faster than the average Imperator.]

  Six hundred points was quite a lot—or so she thought. In the end, she’d spent five hundred points on the tier four mutation both the Archive and Victor had nagged her to unlock, and while it certainly was going to prove useful underwater… she wished she had more points to put into her attribute and mutation levels.

  At the very least, her next goal was to get a branch mutation for ‘Basic Gills’.

  “... I’ve never tried out the ‘Basic Sonar’ mutation before, though,” she muttered, pulling up the status screen for that mutation as Victor continued dragging her up the street. “I just unlocked it this morning, so I have no idea how it works.”

  [T4 Core Mutation: Basic Sonar Lvl: 2]

  [Brief Description: Your lungs have become rippled, allowing you to project your voice underwater with sonar. Subsequent levels in this mutation will decrease the stamina drain from speaking underwater]

  “So you did actually unlock ‘Basic Sonar’ like I told you to. I was half-thinking you’d just go and do some other shit with your points instead of getting the bare minimum mutations for underwater missions,” Victor muttered, glancing at her status screen before waving it away. “Not bad, then. You’ll be able to talk underwater now, so you’re good to go for Depth Three.”

  “I’m good to go for what?”

  “Depth Three.”

  “I can go down there now?”

  “To begin with, nobody was stopping you and your team from going down there,” Victor said, “but Lighthouse Five has completed their investigation of that simultaneous Critter-Class copepod attack from three weeks ago. As I said, it’s already been decided—you’ll be a part of the Mutant-Class Extermination Mission.”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  It’d only been a day since Marisol last stepped foot into a diving bell, so she wasn’t nearly as nervous crawling in now as she was a month ago, knowing there were more than a few familiar faces waiting for her inside.

  This diving bell wasn’t the one the siblings usually used. It was nearly twice as large as the one she’d been in, and the interior was subsequently furbished to accommodate even more people: four separate rows of padded benches lined the spherical walls, and the round table bolted to the centre of the bell was made from polished dark wood, the surface inlaid with fragments of vibrant corals and sea glass. Additional equipment was secured in proper compartments overhead—compasses, pressure gauges, and backup weapons of all sorts—while the large windows behind every bench offered a panoramic view of the whirlpool all around. There were still gas lanterns hanging from hooks in case of an emergency, of course, but given it was bright and early in the morning, they shouldn’t be lacking in natural lighting even down in Depth Three.

  Now, each of the four benches could fit three people, and one side was already taken up by the Imperator siblings. Helena and Aidan waved at her with warm smiles as she crawled in, while Bruno offered her a curt nod. On the opposite bench, prim and proper Reina with her water scorpion tail sat with her arms crossed, eyes closed. Her chest was moving so little it seemed like she was focused on deep meditation, so Marisol didn’t quite know how to scoot around her to get on the bench between the two groups.

  While she stood by the latch for a few moments, someone pushed her from the back and forced her to stumble over the round table, making Reina jerk awake with a flinch.

  “Marisol Vellamira,” Reina muttered, rubbing her eyes groggily as she did. “You are… late.”

  For her part, Marisol only gave the pretty lady an awkward, apologetic nod before whirling around, seeing another man climb into the diving bell while pulling the latch shut. Victor was right outside, waving at all of them and mouthing the words ‘have fun’ under his breath—or, at least, Marisol thought he was mouthing those words. It was never quite clear with those bandages over his face.

  “... Settle down now, young lady,” the man sealing the latch said, and his voice was steady, silky smooth. She shivered from head to toe as she collapsed onto her bench, facing him directly as he waved back at Victor. “I pity you for having that man as your mentor, but I must admit, he is a decent bug-slayer. If he feels you’re ready for Depth Three, then you’re probably ready to die.”

  As the chains rattled outside and the diving bell lurched, dropping into the whirlpool, the man turned around and sat on the bench by the latch. His six hands were on his lap, and his six pearl-like eyes next to both of his human eyes wore a kind, but distant expression. Like he wasn’t really looking at her. If he weren’t wearing the same white and blue uniform as everyone else, Marisol wouldn’t think him an Imperator at all. She hadn’t met any Imperator who didn’t have a Crustacean Class as of yet.

  Very clearly, those prickly, spiny six arms of his belonged to that of a Spider Class user.

  “Uh… who are you again?” she asked quietly, his face giving her the shivers once more. “I know Helena, Aidan, Bruno, and I’ve seen Reina around once or twice in Lighthouse Five, but I don’t think I’ve met you before.”

  The middle-aged man tilted his head and smiled for the first time, a wide, triumphant grin. “I’m the Third Lighthouse Imperator, Hugo, but feel free to just ignore me. I’m only the vice dive leader for this mission, and I won’t be accompanying you all into the depths of Depth Three. Look to the Fifth Lighthouse Imperator instead for your actual dive leader.”

  Three of Hugo’s spider hands thumbed at Reina, who coughed and closed her eyes for a second to compose herself.

  “As Hugo said, I will be the dive leader for this mission. Pleased to be working with all of you.” Then she bowed in her seat, water-refracted sunlight shimmering beautifully against her braided blond hair. “I trust all of you have already been briefed on the details of this mission? If so, then I have no additional details to add. Prepare yourselves physically, mentally, spiritually, and if everything goes well, we will all eat lunch together on the surface in a few hours—”

  “Nope, nope, nope. The old man ain’t told me nothing before dragging me here,” Marisol grumbled, crossing her arms and legs. “First of all, what’s a ‘Lighthouse Imperator’ again? Who are you two?”

  Helena laughed softly, and Bruno had to whack her on the head to get her to be serious. “There are seven divisions within the Harbour Imperators, each headquartered at a different lighthouse surrounding the whirlpool. Lighthouse One Imperators patrol Depths Seven to Eight. Lighthouse Two Imperators patrol Depths Four to Six, and Lighthouse Three Imperators patrol Depths One to Three, while also being the lighthouse responsible for taking care of initiates and new recruits. The three of us are part of Lighthouse Three.”

  “And we Lighthouse Imperators are the old sods running the divisions,” Hugo added, thumbing at himself and chuckling at the mention of Lighthouse Three. “Lighthouse Four is responsible for medical treatment and the recruitment of new Imperators, so they’re also in charge of the Harbour Guards. Lighthouse Five, run by Reina, handles all administrative affairs in the city, while Lighthouse Six… we don’t talk about Lighthouse Six.”

  “Unless you want to die, sir,” Bruno chimed in.

  “Can we get a raise, sir?” Aidan piped up.

  “No. Like I’m not already spending a fortune trying to nurse the fifty injured initiates back to health.”

  “That’s not technically your fortune, sir,” Helena said, raising her hand. “It’s the quarterly budget allocated to Lighthouse Three for official duties. If funds have been misappropriated, it’s the duty of us initiates to report to the administrators of Lighthouse Five—”

  The ‘boss’ grinned as he flicked his hands at the Imperator siblings, tossing wads of sticky webs at their mouths to silence them. At the same time, Reina creased a single brow and glared at Hugo like she was going to kill him for adding to the ruckus, and the pressure inside the bell suddenly shifted, making Marisol’s ears pop. The middle-aged man noticed. He glanced back at his fellow Lighthouse Imperator with a lighthearted chuckle, ripping the webs off the struggling siblings’ faces, but for better or worse, the serious tension in the air had been destroyed just like that.

  This made the second instance where Marisol was surprised by how easygoing most of the Imperators seemed to be, and she didn’t exactly hate that.

  So the Seven Lighthouse Imperators are the strongest Imperators in the city?

  [Six Lighthouse Imperators,] the Archive corrected. [Lighthouse Seven—the one you have been going in and out of the past two months—is headed by the Harbour Imperatrix himself, and it is the division responsible for liaisons with mainland organisations like the Hasharana. However, you would not be wrong to consider Reina and Hugo as two of the strongest Imperators in the city.]

  She gave the irritated Reina and chuckling Hugo a long, hard look. They don’t… look like it.

  [The Lighthouse Imperators are each on par with a Hasharana, which means they are very capable of killing a C-Rank Mutant-Class by themselves,] the Archive said. [For your reference, the wraith shrimp you killed was an F-Rank Mutant-Class, and you did receive considerable help from the Harbour Guards slowing it down and draining its stamina for you. The Lighthouse Imperators, while some of them may be peculiar characters, are not to be trifled with.]

  She watched, eyes squinted once again, as the siblings started harassing their boss for higher salaries.

  Sure ain’t look like that to me.

  It don’t even feel like we’re on a—

  “According to the preliminary and secondary investigations performed by Lighthouse Five, the simultaneous copepod attack on all Depth One to Three patrol teams last month was not an accident,” Reina said, her stern voice cutting loud and clear over the siblings’ prattling. The four Lighthouse Three Imperators immediately sat back down on their benches, fixing their collars and strapping on their gravity harnesses. “The pheromone trails were traced back, and the source of the copepods all appeared to have originated from within Sector Sixteen of Depth Three. We believe a Mutant-Class copepod has emerged after evolving from an S-rank Giant-Class, and is currently lurking with Sector Sixteen.”

  Can copepods even be labelled as Giant-Class?

  But they were so… tiny.

  [The copepods you fought a month ago were Critter-Class, but there are bigger ones—]

  “Given the predicted strength of the Mutant-Class copepod is C-rank, Lighthouse One, Two, Six, and Seven have passed the majority vote to send an extermination team consisting of at least one Lighthouse Imperators down to deal with it,” Reina continued, staring daggers into Marisol as the Archive rambled off in her head. The Archive shut up immediately, as though feeling the judgemental pressure as well. “It was decided by the Imperatrix that the two of us would accompany an exceptional group of initiates to form the Mutant-Class Extermination Team. Considering the four of you were the only ones to come out of last month’s coordinated attack relatively unscathed, Lighthouse One and Two were very adamant in making all of you gain practical combat experience against Mutant-Classes.”

  While Marisol strapped on the harness hanging over her head hurriedly, if not only to follow everyone else’s lead, Bruno gave Reina a stern look. “A C-rank Mutant-Class is no joke. If Hugo isn’t going into Depth Three with us, it’ll just be the three of us, Marisol, and you. I know you can probably kill the Mutant-Class alone, but—and I will be frank here—are you sure the four of us won’t be out of our depth fighting alongside you?”

  “That is the point of this team,” Reina replied stiffly, her gaze matching his with a silent, appraising assessment. “Lighthouse Two is low on manpower, so if the three of you perform well on this mission, your promotion from Lighthouse Three initiate to Lighthouse Two adept will be considered by the appropriate lady. Now, as your dive leader, I am still the vanguard, so you have nothing to worry about. I will protect you, and we will complete this extermination mission without fail.”

  And Marisol wasn’t worried. Reina spoke with such elegance, such conviction, that there seemed like there was no room for anyone to argue otherwise. The siblings sighed simultaneous breaths of reliefs, and only Hugo chuckled a bit as he mimicked the way Reina said that final line—which Marisol thought was very, very cool.

  She wished she could say something like that with as much conviction as Reina just did.

  “... Of course, our target is located within Depth Three, so just follow the usual safety procedures,” Reina started, raising three fingers as the diving bell suddenly jerked to a halt, making Marisol lurch forward. “Do not remove Hugo’s tether, do not take off your harness, and under no circumstances are you allowed to stray more than ten metres away from me. This is a Mutant-Class Extermination Mission. There is no need to collect research samples. Is that understood?”

  “Clear,” Bruno said, tightening his harness as Hugo stood, four arms turning the latch.

  “Got it,” Aidan said, shooting Reina a thumbs-up.

  “Understood,” Helena said, as Marisol fumbled for the box of skyball corals overhead.

  “Good. If there are no further questions, the allotted mission duration is two hours,” Reina said, curling her scorpion tail around the box of candies and pulling it down into Marisol’s arms. Then the lady nodded at her, making her frown; she wondered all over again if she was actually disliked or not. “Once the time limit is up, Hugo will yank us back with his silk threads regardless of whether or not we have slain the Mutant-Class. While I would say we do not exactly have to slay the Mutant-Class by today… I would rather save myself the trouble of having to schedule another dive. Who likes paperwork, anyways?”

  The rest of them blinked at what appeared to be Reina’s best attempt at a lighthearted, tension-diffusing joke, so Reina quickly recovered with a cough before nodding at Hugo.

  “Drop us down to Depth Three.”

  And just as Marisol managed to pop a skyball coral into her mouth, Hugo kicked the latch open and moved out of the way as he did.

  Their gravity harnesses dragged the five of them out onto the walls of the whirlpool once again.