22. Lake of Wine and Forest of Meat #3
I would the next time, knowing that it would pain me even more when the inevitable betrayal came. I doubted it would be from her, now having learned my lesson, but knew that someone close to me was bound to crack as the Gongtide rolled in.
I read on.
Shou. I’m going to try and call him Shou here so I don’t slip up.
I don’t know how long I have to fight for his favor, but I won’t discard that advantage yet.
He claims to be an emperor from the ancient China.
Yes, he advocated the Gongtide and knows the true history and all, but he still claims it.
Seeing this race now, it isn’t that crazy in comparison.
This is something he had in his ancient palace, which he blended with the tradition of dragon boat racing.
I bet it’s all a disgrace to the true traditions, using just their names and concepts, but it doesn’t matter.
The Lake of Wine and Forest of Meat is a competition run by palace attendees who donate fans.
In this case, he assumed I was with him and took you out thinking you were my fan donation.
Yes. That kind of fan. Everyone on that leaderboard brought human donations to sacrifice to this occult game.
The winners get a plot written for them to have a social advantage so society will make them their next god for who knows how long.
The more of your devotees you drag here and sacrifice, the higher your chance is at winning.
I don’t know what those balls of light are or what Shou gets from it, but I don’t intend to wait until the end.
Everyone else should have had their neurospaces blocked, but I reached out to Ralia to bring yours back on line.
Slap your cheek if you’re getting this. I need to know before we can move forward.
The wine stung my eyes, but I looked toward her as I leaned back with my oar. I slapped my cheek, then focused back on rowing with her messages in my periphery. After half a lap, she sent another response.
You and I need to isolate Shou if we’re going to learn anything.
After we figure out what all of this is, we can deal with him and move on to whatever is next.
If you have any ideas based on what you’re experiencing right now, let me know.
Don’t die. I feel like that’s a given, but please don’t.
This will continue until only one boat can cross the line.
I don’t know if that means when there is a full boat left or only two people.
It’s not going to stop unless we do something.
I thought about proposing a theory, but I figured it was better to test it than wait.
I threw a spear towards Zhou. Light flashed as the spear collided with an invisible barrier. A few of the other towers tried to see if they had better luck.
The crowd laughed. I doubted we were the first to try and escape.
Petya: We’re stuck in here. You’ll need to do something out there.
I let her work with her thoughts as I focused on the rowing and dodging the occasional spear. We had lost another rower while I was reading her messages but hadn’t lost any progress towards the next boat.
I thought about yelling for everyone to stop throwing the spears, but there would be no purpose. It wasn’t because these people were all bloodthirsty savage fans. They wanted to live. It was as simple as that. If they didn’t hit their enemies with the spears, their enemies would hit them.
I needed to turn that mentality on the elites. I needed Boyband here but would have to resort to natural causes. His mod was blocked anyway.
Petya: We can’t change the race, but you can change the crowd.
Naoma: What are you thinking?
Petya: I need Ral to fix my neurospace. She has our location, right?
Naoma: I guess.
Petra: She needs to tap into the screen they’re using for the scoreboard.
Naoma: And do what?
Petya: Do you know a lot of these people?
Naoma: Enough based on reputation and what I’ve seen on the neuronet.
Petya: Have Ral hook you up to find some feuds or any kind of dirt you can bring up between some people.
Naoma: To broadcast it on the screen?
Petya: Yes. We need anything we can get to distract them.
Naoma: And then what?
I failed to give her an immediate response as one of the spear-throwers on my boat took a hit and fell onto me. I felt his weight for a second until he became a light-weight skin-suit of a man.
The captain called and one of the rowers in front of me moved to the spears. The other rower next to her had fallen a minute prior and her efforts were only helping to veer us to the right.
Naoma: Why don’t I reveal myself and use my Gui or whatever it is? I’m close enough to him now.
Petya: No, that would waste your efforts so far.
Naoma: Doesn’t matter, I didn’t know it would go this bad.
Petya: Let’s not ruin your reputation unless we have to.
Naoma: Preserving my reputation isn’t my focus right now.
Petya: Reach out to Ral. I’ll figure something out down here.
Naoma: Hurry, please.
We completed another lap, now in second place despite our losses. The fifth boat pulled across the line as we went around the first curve.
No announcement. No warning. Sea-mechs unlike I had ever seen rose from the water as if freed from some underwater chamber.
It was no bipedal Finian, nor was it a hypnotizing cuttle.
This was no new doomed attempt to create a new human-esque being, but an abominable joining of an orca and a mechanical squid.
The orca’s front was a touch smaller than I imagined one being, having never visited an oceanic preserve, but that did little to diminish my fear.
Aside from its face and dorsal fin, most of its body was covered in a sleek, black metal to match its skin.
An optic band had replaced its eyes, which I was sure made it an even deadlier predator.
As one swam for the first boat, its thick tentacles capsized the second boat.
The crew gathered to flip their boat, losing one of their members as another orca-mech speared her with a light-tipped tentacle.
Every boat passed them, veering around the second boat and its tormentor.
The first orca-mech pursued the winning boat, though from its initial push, I knew that speed was no issue.
It weaved back and forth like a snake, splashing the boat with its tentacles as it but towards the tail end.
Its gnashing teeth drew closer with each second.
Wine splashed from the back end of the boat as its tentacles speared the wood.
The crew shouted as they scrambled to plug the leak. Another sprung up as the orca-mech stabbed into the boat again, lifting an impaired rower this time.
One of the boat’s spearmen struck the orca just above the eyeband after a barrage of failed attempts.
It cried out and rammed the boat, breaking the spear off as it cracked the wood of the boat’s end.
Our captain shredded his voice with a shout louder than any before. He called for the spearmen to stop targeting the other towers and to focus on the second orca-mech who was now targeting us.
We needed a drastic maneuver in order to join the second boat–which had lost a third of its crew by the time they got back inside their boat–or the first boat–which was losing an inch of its body by the second.
The single shot to the orca-mech’s head had done nothing but enrage the beast, causing it to bite into the body of the first fallen fan who came its way.
I looked at Naoma. It was hard to see her from where we were, but I couldn’t see her focusing anywhere. I prayed that meant she was working with Ralia.
I couldn’t just sit. I stood and pushed the nearest spearman into my seat and took his spears.
“Row!” I shouted.
The captain gazed back at me but made no comment as he returned to his rowing. I figured he was just as willing to try anything like me.
I tossed my first spear, missing the orca-mech by a few feet.
The second shot was closer, but the third was easy with how close it was.
The spear stuck into the top of its dorsal fin, but it showed no sign of caring.
I was never the most verbal animal advocate, but I couldn’t help feeling bad for it.
Not only had it had some hunger for humans programmed into it, but this thing had also been pulled from either the toxic, blackening sea or one of the few marine reserves just to swim in wine.
I tossed the spear, hoping any death would pull it from its unnatural existence into a merciful sleep.
The spear bounced off its tentacle with a small spark. The orca-moved closer to bite a chunk off the back of the boat, then backed away to extend our tortuous demise.
Our other spearmen followed me. None of the spears did anything other than distract the orca-mech.
Naoma: Check the screen.
I spared a glance. Multiple squares covered the screen, showing certain elites in bed with others.
Some showed the celebrities dealing with company reps, while others highlighted some of them ranting on a neurospace call.
I didn’t connect to any of their audio outputs, feeling satisfied that they were all the incriminating shots we needed to sow discord among the audience members over betrayal, infidelity, and various forms of breaching contracts.
Even over the clamor of our race I could hear shouting and cursing among the elites.
Naoma: You see it?”
I nodded more than enough for her to notice as I dodged an opponent’s light spear that stuck the rower behind me. I crouched to send a single message before another spear came my way.
Petya: We need the barrier down. Do what you can.
Zeg. My shoulder burned as a spear landed in it. I let out one of those mixed laugh-cries.
The light on my briefs glowed vibrantly.
All of this effort. Everything I had done surmounted to this moment of misfortune that would end it all. No joyful end for me. No forever with Naoma. No redemption for the good side of Medislavia.
“Enough with the sorrow, bakuh. You embarrass me.”
Zhu? Am I–