GB 80

The ship’s broadcast warning about swells continued for over an hour.

These weren’t natural waves. They were massive vibrations caused by the dying seawater’s thrashing, not by the moon’s movement.

A few ships from the squadron took turns confirming with artillery fire. Being just at the edge of the gray pit, they couldn’t waste ammunition and had to return after firing only basic shells.

Even after that, it took an hour and twenty minutes for things to calm down.

They didn’t even realize the sun had risen. The view was hazy with fog, but on closer look, it seemed more like the dying breath of the seawater. A terrible rotten smell permeated the air, and even at this distance, dark blue blood was spreading in the sea, emitting a foul odor.

Smelling this, swarms of small seawater creatures were gathering. Although called “Sea Irregulars” due to their abnormal manifestation, they posed almost no threat and were left alone, essentially serving as the sea’s cleaners.

These creatures, about the size of tuna with angler fish-like jaws and flying fish wings, greatly enjoyed the seawater’s blood and flesh. Their square, human-like teeth in angler fish jaws created an eerie and disgusting sight.

Without them, the sea would have already congealed like jelly and rotted from the seawater’s carcass and secretions. While many die because of the sea, if the sea dies, humanity faces extinction.

These voracious creatures drank the fresh blood of the recently deceased seawater and tore at its carcass. Their swarming behavior was chilling to watch.

“It’s a sight we see every time, but I can never get used to it,” someone remarked.

According to the Naval Research Institute, these “sea cleaners” were inedible to humans. While one might think no one would be crazy enough to eat such horrifying-looking fish, humans already eat sea cucumbers and anglerfish, making this an important research finding.

Their lifespan is extremely short, almost like cicadas. They lay a huge number of eggs which hatch after 8-10 months, and the offspring live for only about ten days before disappearing. Surprisingly, their carcasses greatly aid coral growth.

It was an amazingly intricate system, much like how this Earth somehow manages to survive and move even if all the glaciers melt.

Haero sighed as he looked at the state of his wound, which was somewhat far from intricate.

It had been stitched up hurriedly and didn’t look particularly good. Fortunately, his hair, longer than other soldiers’, barely covered the forehead wound, and the shin wound would be hidden by long pants.

“I’m sorry. I was clumsy,” the medic apologized glumly. 

There was no need for an apology. Even if it had been the chief medical officer instead of a medic, their hands would have shaken in such an urgent situation.

“You closed it well. You did a good job. Thank you for your hard work,” Haero encouraged the sailor.

If he looked unwell, it was entirely due to the fatigue that had belatedly set in. Could they finally take a breather now? The end of the combat situation broadcast had played five minutes ago.

Haero, exhausted, slumped into a chair in the infirmary where the faint smell of blood lingered. The uniform was stained with blood from someone who had been bleeding until just moments ago. It would be a hassle to clean.

As he was about to close his eyes and tilt his head back, there was a knock on the bulkhead door, followed by a report still full of unresolved tension.

“Victory. The captain requests your presence in his office for a pre and post-action report on the infirmary.”

“Understood,” Haero replied, drawing out his words from inside the medical bay. 

The sailor, watching his reaction, asked, “Shall I relay this to the chief medical officer instead…?”

In other words, he was offering to send someone else because Haero looked too tired.

But the chief medical officer, who had been running around non-stop transferring and treating the injured, would likely have collapsed by now. The bleeding had stopped and the wound was well closed, so it was fine. Haero shook his head and stood up.

Above all, it was the captain’s office, not the bridge. There was no way he would send someone else instead of himself.

* * *

The door to the captain’s office remained firmly closed for about 10 minutes. When Haero first knocked, he was told the executive officer inside was giving a lengthy report. More time had passed since then.

After another 5 minutes or so, the executive officer finally emerged. Haero saluted, and the officer briefly squeezed his shoulder, saying “Good work,” before walking away with tired steps.

Haero opened the door and stepped inside, turning his body and taking a careful half-step forward. Then he announced his arrival, “Medical Officer Lieutenant Haero reporting as ordered…”

Before the report could finish, an arm stretched out from the dark interior. The strength that gripped Haero’s wrist and pulled him inside was almost mystical. Haero squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He felt that even if the one who grabbed him wasn’t actually Yoon Moo-hwa, but a new type of seawater imitating his form, he wouldn’t be able to resist. 

If it was his form.

Haero was enveloped in the scent of pencil shavings. The force embracing him was tremendous. Despite holding him so tightly, it kept adjusting as if Haero might slip away at any moment. Adjusting, grasping, pressing.

“Damn it, if it weren’t for such ridiculous technicalities.”

Haero momentarily believed he must have misheard. He had never heard Yoon Moo-hwa use profanity before. He always used such gentle language that it was almost embarrassing. Even when rejecting him.

“Don’t you know what a quasi-war situation is? Isn’t saving lives important, no matter what method is used? Trying to keep the men on my ship alive and get them back to land is so…! Reports, superiors, damn it all…” Yoon Moo-hwa rambled quickly and incoherently about how survival was what mattered, how it wasn’t even guns but harpoons, asking if Haero knew why he had prepared to face this nagging and risked his life to escape.

He seemed extremely agitated and angry. It was incomparable to when Haero had enrolled in the Naval Academy on his own.

Haero felt like he might be crushed.

A groan of pain escaped him. At this, Yoon Moo-hwa abruptly pulled Haero away from his body. Not stopping there, he repeatedly brushed up Haero’s hair. He clenched his teeth and scrunched his face against Haero’s forehead wound, reaching out to touch it before hesitating and pulling back. Then he fumbled with Haero’s uniform, lifting each piece. Even Haero’s hips and thighs weren’t spared. 

When he started to remove Haero’s pants entirely, Haero called out desperately, “H-hyung.” 

Whether Yoon Moo-hwa heard or not was unclear, but he bent his knees and arbitrarily rolled up Haero’s pant legs.

“How badly are you hurt?” Yoon Moo-hwa asked in a terrifyingly low voice.

But for Haero, the fact that he was angry wasn’t important.

In fact, he couldn’t hear anything.

Yoon Moo-hwa abruptly raised his head at the lack of response.

He felt like destroying everything right then. Even as he was reporting to the higher-ups and getting chewed out, all he could think of was Haero bleeding in the medical bay. 

‘Why did I not want you on my ship so badly? But if you were going to follow me to the end, I couldn’t send you anywhere else, so I put you on my own ship.’

The ship was like his body. Haero was inside his belly. What was inside his belly was hurt. No matter how much he swallowed, there was no way to protect it completely. 

‘How much more of your every move…’

Yoon Moo-hwa’s mind was racing insanely fast. All these thoughts occurred in the instant he raised his head. It was a kind of unavoidable side effect that accompanied the artificial eye. Thanks to the highly precise and rapid operation of the artificial eye, Yoon Moo-hwa was in an excited state, and his brain was overheating.

It wasn’t easy to stop. It was impossible until he took a sedative.

But the moment he saw Haero’s face, that impossible thing happened.

“…”

Yoon Moo-hwa’s fiercely frozen face slowly melted.

The words he was about to pour out madly scattered like sea fog suddenly disappearing after covering the sea, and he was left speechless as if facing a sunrise after a painful night when life hung in the balance.

Haero was covering his lips with the back of his hand and avoiding eye contact. That brazen, audacious gaze that always looked straight at him was now wavering, directed to the side in confusion, and his face was flushed bright red.

He had meant to ask if Haero knew whose body he had injured, if he knew he was Yoon Moo-hwa’s weakness. Even though he knew that as a naval officer aboard the ship, Haero naturally had to face such risks, he had intended to ignore all that and get angry, he was angry.

No, he’s still angry.

He’s still excited. His head is red-hot and his heart is racing.

‘This ship is my body.

You are inside my belly.

My belly feels ticklish.’