Carl wanted to cry.
He hadn't shed a single tear facing those two-faced politicians in the alliance, nor during countless battles against cruel mutant beasts and plants. But now, standing in front of the white mermaid in the pool, he really, truly wanted to cry.
Beautiful things are dangerous. Delicate things even more so.
And this one? Absolutely maddening.
"Lansi, Lansi, why won't you eat?"
Carl crouched by the pool, looking at the white mermaid floating motionless in the center, despair written all over his face.
It had been days. Every time, Lansi would only nibble at his food, barely eating anything. Carl was losing it.
At first, he assumed the mermaid didn't like the food. So, he changed the fish, slicing it into delicate fillets while it was still fresh. Still no response.
Maybe Lansi preferred raw, live fish?
So Carl dumped a few lively fish into the pool, hoping to spark some interest. Lansi didn't even blink as they swam past.
Now, even the fillets were ignored. Lansi would only take one reluctant bite under Carl's urging, then leave the rest untouched.
Every time Carl showed up, he'd find Lansi lying on the reef with his back turned, sunbathing, completely ignoring him.
At this rate, Carl's once-bright red hair seemed to fade in frustration.
But the truth was, Lansi wasn't indifferent at all.
Ever since he arrived in this strange place, he'd been quietly racking his brain for an escape plan. He didn't know where he was—somewhere far from the sea—and he needed to think long-term.
But planning an escape wasn't easy, especially when nothing made sense. He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. It gave Carl the wrong impression:
He sleeps during the day? Carl thinks he's lazy.
No appetite? Carl thinks he's picky.
In reality, Lansi couldn't eat because the food tasted awful. It wasn't spoiled—it was fresh sea fish, the same kind he'd eaten in the ocean. But somehow, here, the texture and flavor felt...off.
Still, he forced himself to eat what he could, just enough to keep himself strong enough to swim.
"Ahhh! That's it!"
Frustrated beyond reason, Carl tore off his jacket, grabbed the plate of filleted fish, and dove straight into the pool.
Since being nice didn't work, it was time to try brute force.
Lansi heard the splash behind him and turned around in confusion, only to see Carl awkwardly swimming toward him, struggling to balance the floating plate of sashimi in one hand.
Lansi: "..."
Under Carl's intense glare, Lansi finally slipped into the water and swam over gracefully.
Surprised that the mermaid was actually coming to him, Carl froze mid-motion. But then he noticed the mischievous glint in Lansi's eyes as they flicked between Carl and the plate of fish.
"I'm warning you—don't—"
After spending some time together, Carl had learned the truth: the mermaid might look ethereal, but most of the time he was a demon in disguise who lived to mess with him.
Sure enough, before Carl could finish his sentence, Lansi circled him with a flick of his tail. In one graceful motion, the mermaid sent Carl spinning with a splash, flipping the entire plate of fish into the water.
Carl flailed, choking on a mouthful of pool water. Before he could recover, Lansi swam back, grabbed him by the collar, and hoisted him upright—like he was doing him a favor.
As for the missing plate? Lansi gave a very convincing performance of "what plate?"
"You little—!"
Carl's whole body trembled. He glared at Lansi, forehead veins bulging. He'd been played.
Again.
It was ridiculous. He couldn't even keep up with a mermaid in the water. Lansi was faster, stronger, and a master at annoying him.
Finally, Carl lost it. He raised a middle finger at Lansi.
"Carl Ellington!"
A sharp female voice pierced the air behind him.
The way she said his full name—cold, clear, and furious—froze Carl mid-gesture. He turned around like a student caught cheating.
It was Rose.
She stood at the edge of the pool with her arms crossed, eyes blazing.
"You just gave Lansi the finger?"
Carl swam to the pool's edge, waving his hands nervously. "It was an accident!"
"He was just on land! He doesn't even understand what that means! And you dare flip him off?!"
Rose didn't care about excuses. As Carl got close, she lifted one foot and stomped it down on his head, pushing him back underwater.
"What if you teach him bad habits?"
She seemed to have completely forgotten that Lansi was the one who flipped them off first.
Meanwhile, Lansi sat perched on the reef, blinking innocently, pretending he hadn't seen anything.
He was just a mermaid. A clueless, innocent mermaid.
After giving Carl a good scolding, Rose cleared her throat and fixed her clothes. She walked over and beckoned to Lansi.
Lansi looked at Carl, who now resembled a drowned puppy, and slowly swam toward Rose.
He didn't want to get on her bad side.
Rose pulled out a small device and scanned Lansi's body. Then, gently cradling his face in her hands, she frowned and turned to Carl.
"I think I know why he isn't eating."
Carl sat up, instantly alert. "Why?"
"His teeth are flattened and overly sensitive. Chewing is painful, and it's affecting his sense of taste."
She gave Lansi's head a gentle pat.
"He's not suited to eating raw fish right now."
"Then what do we do?" Carl panicked. "I don't want the boss to beat me to death over this!"
Rose rolled her eyes.
"You came to me, which means you do care, even if you won't admit it."
Carl looked away, not denying it.
With Wen Yu away and unreachable, Carl had no choice. Despite their rocky history, Rose knew a thing or two about marine biology. He figured it was worth a shot.
"Fish isn't just eaten raw, you know! If he can't eat sashimi, give him soft fish soup!"
She stared at Carl like he was an idiot.
"What's fish soup?" Carl looked genuinely puzzled.
Rose grabbed him by the collar. "Where's your kitchen? I'll show you."
The two of them disappeared into the villa.
Back at the pool, Lansi quietly sat by the edge, staring into the water.
Teeth...
He licked his flat teeth and suddenly felt something stirring inside him.
A strange urge.
He wanted to evolve.
He wanted his body to become what it used to be—or better.
Somehow, he knew it was possible.
But how?
Half an hour later, Rose and Carl returned.
Lansi saw them and waved his tail in greeting.
"This is cold fish soup. You should be able to eat it," Rose said warmly, handing the bowl to Carl.
Carl, still grimacing from being dragged around, handed the bowl to Lansi.
"Here. Fish soup."
Inside was a thick, milky-white paste, garnished with a few green herbs.
Lansi leaned forward and sniffed. Then paused.
He didn't eat it. Instead, he looked at them both with a strangely unreadable expression.
"What's wrong with him?" Carl whispered.
Rose frowned. "I don't know."
"Lansi, it's food. You eat it like this."
Carl reached out, trying to demonstrate by scooping up the paste—but Lansi pulled the bowl away.
Carl: "…"
Rose: "…"
Rose massaged her temples. "How are both of you like this…"
Suddenly remembering something, she asked, "You've had him here for days. Have you shown the boss any videos?"
Carl blinked. "Why would I do that?"
Rose exhaled deeply.
"No wonder Colonel Wen Yu hasn't fired you. You can send a projection, you know. Maybe if he sees Lansi, he can help."
Carl's eyes lit up. "That's a good idea!"
He ran back into the villa, punched a code into the keypad, and disappeared inside.
Lansi watched curiously, memorizing the four-digit code.
Soon, Carl returned and placed a small white device by the pool.
With a soft hum, a projection flickered to life.
A familiar figure appeared beside the water.
Lansi's eyes widened.
It was Winsor.
Even though it was just a projection, Lansi felt his heart leap.
"Lansi?"
Winsor blinked, and once the image stabilized, he smiled gently.
"Did you miss me?"
"Yee—zi—!"
Lansi dropped his bowl and swam to the projection.
He circled it, entranced, before reaching out to touch him—only to feel air.
He looked up, confused.
Winsor squatted down, smiling sadly. "I heard you haven't been eating. Why?"
Lansi stared at him. And in his black eyes, the question burned—
Was he really Winsor?
Carl, meanwhile, muttered from the side, "You'd better talk some sense into him! He won't eat fish, soup, nothing! And he keeps pulling pranks—"
Rose kicked him silently.
Carl yelped. "What was that for?!"
Rose said nothing, just covered her face.
Winsor didn't react. He reached out, pretended to tug Lansi's cheek, and asked softly:
"Do you trust me?"
Lansi hesitated. Then nodded.
"Then be good. Stay with Carl for now. I'll be back in a few days."
Lansi waved his webbed hand, then pointed to the small bowl beside the pool.
Winsor narrowed his eyes and turned to Carl.
"…Why didn't you give him a spoon?"
Carl: "…Huh?"
So that was the problem?
Carl ran to get a spoon.
The moment he returned and handed it over, Lansi began eating quietly.
He sat beside the pool, sharing silent company with the projection of Winsor, carefully scooping fish soup into his mouth.
Carl stared at them.
He looked up at the sky and rolled his eyes.
How the hell did the boss know he wanted a spoon?
Did he learn mermaid language or something?
"You have to grow strong," Winsor said gently, watching Lansi eat.
"If you want to evolve, you must awaken."
Lansi paused, eyes flickering.
He looked at Winsor's image, and somehow, he just knew—
Winsor understood everything.