Chương 12: Chapter IV — Ascending a Foreign Sky

As the night faded, Galan found himself back in the present, staring at an empty table. The restaurant was different, filled with a new lunch crowd.

"Finally waking up?" the owner asked, wiping down the counter. Galan stretched, his mouth still tasting of iron.

"Yeah, how long have I been out for?"

"About an hour. You should head to your inn if you want a real sleep." Galan rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Sorry 'bout that. Wait, I don't actually have a place to stay. Know any local families who like tourists?" The owner nodded thoughtfully.

"My relatives run an inn and broth noodle shop about twenty minutes inland, to the north. Go to Moons' Valley village and ask for the Kazemura family. Just... don't arrive too late." Galan's divine handbooks, stored safely in his vault, automatically recorded the directions and everything that has occurred during his journey.

"Or what?" he scoffed.

"The Vengeful ghosts gonna get me?" The owner flinched.

"Oh, so you've heard the rumors."

"Know anything about it?"

"Sadly, no," the owner sighed, avoiding his gaze.

"Nothing useful to an investigator. We were told not to speak of it."

"The wraps are that tight, huh?"

"Yes, but since most people here can't speak Godlang," the owner added, "I'm sure it's fine to talk with you." So I need to find the important locals, Galan thought.

"Alright, thanks for the info." He gave a casual wave and stepped out into the midday sun. The air was thick with the scent of salt and grilled seafood. The beach was alive with activity, a kaleidoscope of races and divinities building sandcastles and splashing in the waves. Several kappa—green, scaly river yookai—mingled with the crowd. One dipped his head into the shallows, refilling the dish-like depression on his skull with seawater.

With webbed hands and beaked faces, they glided through the surf, acting as lifeguards for the tourists. Huh, Galan thought. They modified the kappa's genes to tolerate salt water. Guess I shouldn't be surprised. He walked on, pausing at a large glass display case filled with colorful posters. They advertised tours of volcanic landscapes, cultural workshops, and diving trips guided by the drowned sailor spirits and the half-snake women yookai.

Wow, they really managed to turn dangerous creatures into tourist attractions. His gaze locked onto a poster for the final match of an oni fighting tournament. A stylized illustration of a trophy shaped like a fanged demon head dominated the page. Below it were the names: Shuten Dooji, the Oni of Revelry and Ruin, versus Ootake Maru, the Wrathful Oni of the Peaks. He scanned the details. The match was set for 5: 00 PM at the Soaring Heights Theater on Sky Favored Island.

Seems like a good place for important people to gather, Galan decided. To check the current time, he consults his mindcast-compatible pocket watch, which is stored safely in his divine vault. 1: 26 PM. Plenty of time. He headed for the ferry but winced at the prices listed at the ticket booth. 200 kogan to get to the island? I'd rather swim. He considered running across the water but dismissed the idea. It would cost too much mana.

Instead, he strolled past the crowded docks, his eyes landing on a lone fisherman scraping barnacles off a brightly colored boat. He looks old enough to know what Japan was like before the Council took over, Galan thought. He approached the man, offering a polite bow.

"Excuse me," he said in perfect Japanese.

"Would you be willing to take me to Sky Favored Island?" If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. The fisherman straightened, a wider smile crinkling his weathered face.

"Sky Favored Island? Sure. For 40 kogan, I can get you there, no problem."

"Thank you, I'll take it," Galan said, nodding. The fisherman waved to his friends on the shoreline.

"Hey, come help me! We're going to fish a bit more after we take this kind tourist to Sky Favored Island!"

"Already?" one of them groaned.

"Break's not even over!"

"Quit whining and get over here! We're getting a bonus!" Their eyes lit up at the mention of money.

"Alright! We'll be right there!" One of them shouted. They pushed the brightly colored boat into the shallows. Galan settled in the middle as the fishermen began to row, the oars slicing through the water with a steady, rhythmic splash. He reached out with his mindcast, searching for any whispers of vengeful ghosts from them, but found only more baseless rumors, which caused him to exhale an exasperated sigh. He leaned back, watching the sun dance on the ripples.

"So," he asked after a while, "how long have you been working these waters?"

"Me?" the first fisherman glanced back.

"Since I was a kid. My father, his father before him... we've always fished here. The sea between these islands is like a second home."

"You're heading to Sky Favored Island, right?" another chimed in.

"That place has changed a lot. Used to be quiet, just for the ten-gu, but now it's really busy thanks to the Council."

"Does their arrival only come with benefits?"

"Haha, of course," the fourth fisherman laughed.

"Ever since they appeared, the festival has become bigger. More tourists every year... very good for business."

"It's not just about money," the third added.

"The yookai are friendlier these days, like the kappa watching over the beaches. They used to be troublesome, but the Council tamed them." So they do have a solid plan, Galan thought.

"Interesting. I've heard stories about them being dangerous."

"Yeah, it's true," the third fisherman said, his tone sobering.

"They have rules now. But the sea... ah... the sea never changes." He pulled a gourd from under his seat and took a swig.

"Just remember, there are still dangers on the waters between the archipelago and the mainland. The drowned sailor spirits there don't care much for rules… Still hearing words about small ships being sunk in the rainy mists."

"So there are still places beyond the Council's control?" Galan asked.

"Oh, for sure. The ocean's deep and the forest is huge. But you seem like the adventurous type... you might like exploring those parts."

"Hmph, maybe I will." The fisherman offered the gourd.

"Hey, want some?"

"This cost extra?" The men laughed loudly.

"No, it's free. It's not every day we get to share a drink with a foreigner."

"Alright." Galan took the gourd. He inhaled deeply, savoring the fragrant blend of sweetness and sourness. After a sip, the drink burst with the taste of apple and pear, giving way to a rich, savory depth that warmed his chest against the cold breeze.

"Whoa, that's good," he said, impressed.

"You Japanese people sure know how to make a drink." He passed the gourd along.

"So, what do they call you, traveler?"

"Galan," he said with a friendly smile. The fisherman frowned, struggling with the foreign sounds.

"Garan?"

"Galan."

"Garan?" the second fisherman mused.

"You mean, like a Buddhist temple?" Galan shook his head.

"No, no, it's..." He squinted.

"Actually, let me think..." He reached out with his mindcast, weaving through their thoughts to find the linguistic threads that would make sense to them. The letters rearranged themselves in their minds until they formed a perfect name, returning the result back in an instant.

"Call me... Odagawa," he said. It meant Calm River, just like his Godlang name.

"You came up with that on the spot?"

"Yeah, what do you think?"

"I think that's a great name, Mr. Odagawa," the first fisherman smiled.

"Just shorten it to Oda."

"Very well, Sir Oda." One of them said before drinking again. The group then continued their conversation for a few more minutes. As they neared the island, Galan spotted the merfolk beneath the ship. They're sleek, shimmering water people, swimming freely beneath the hulls of other ships with effortless grace. Meanwhile, on the shore, young ten-gu swooped down to startle tourists, snatching snacks with playful mischief.

But the scene soon ended once they entered the cave that housed the dock, the boat stopping just shy of a sturdy ladder.

"Thank you so much," Galan said, standing up. He flicked his wrist, and four gleaming gold coins appeared in his palm.

"Here. I don't have small change." The fishermen stared.

"Uhm... how did you do that?"

"Do what? This?" The coins vanished, replaced by a firework that dazzled the men, before vanishing just as quickly.

"Lord Odagawa," the first fisherman gasped.

"Are you a god?"

"Well, yeah, but don't tell anyone, okay? I don't want them to..." Before he could finish, the fishermen dropped to their knees, bowing so low their foreheads touched the bottom of the boat. Galan sighed, dragging a hand down his face.

"Do that..." He knelt, tapping the man on the shoulder.

"Listen, take this money, share it with your friends, and spend it on your families. Got that? Treat it as a reward for, uh… passing the test. In giving me a good time."

"Yes, Lord Odagawa!" they chorused.

"Hey! Don't crowd the gangway!" the wharfmaster shouted from above.

"My bad!" Galan called back. He dropped the coins into the fisherman's hand and scrambled up the ladder.

"Goodbye!" he said while waving at them.

"Don't you want us to come back for you?"

"Nah, I'll get back with the other tourists," he said, waving from the top.

"Be safe, everyone." As he walked away, they waved back, their voices cheerful over the din of the dock.

"Have fun with your trip in Japan, Lord Odagawa!"

"I will," Galan called back without looking, raising a hand in a thumbs-up.

"What does this mean?" one of the fishermen asked, copying the gesture.

"Maybe it means good luck?" another guessed.

"Hey! What did I just tell you?!" The wharfmaster roared from above.

"Get outta here!"

"Eh, y—yes!" Laughter erupted from the crowd as the fishermen scrambled to sit back on their boat, rowing frantically toward the open sea. Galan glanced over his shoulder, a genuine laugh escaping his lips at the sight.

"Hmph. Mortals."