Mermaid Theater

Karen and the others left in a carriage from the hotel, which served as the best possible pass. Along the path leading to the hotel's main gate, quite a few people clad in black clerical robes could be seen walking out. Everyone wanted to seize this opportunity to explore, but most were on foot, able to hire carriages only after leaving the grounds... In this regard, they had indeed benefited from Leon and Laure's status. Leaving the hotel, the carriage continued down the mountain. The unicorn horses moved swift and steady; despite the gravel road beneath, those inside felt not the slightest jolt. Descending Mount Kenna, they entered the town. Aside from special landmarks like watchtowers, clock towers, and moon-watching terraces, there were no residential or commercial buildings over three stories tall within the town. Karen figured whoever planned this town must have suffered from severe obsessive-compulsive disorder. Every block and street was designed with extreme symmetry, making it easy for unfamiliar newcomers to lose their way. "It's so clean here," Richard remarked as he looked out the carriage window. The streets of York City were certainly nowhere near this clean. Laure said dismissively, "They must have done a thorough cleaning beforehand." Richard nodded. "True enough." The carriage stopped outside a restaurant. When the four men in black clerical robes stepped down, the attendant at the entrance was taken aback. Soon, the restaurant owner and staff were alerted, all rushing forward to welcome them. They repeatedly said to Karen and the others: "Praise Order." "Praise Order." In truth, only faithful of Order had the right to utter those words; for outsiders to say them was considered blasphemy, or even a provocation. However, Dark Moon Island had only ever possessed pure faith in the Dark Moon and knew nothing of the church's taboos. Seeing esteemed guests from the Church of Order arrive to dine, they treated the phrase as a warm and welcoming greeting. Karen and the other three could only place their hands against their chests and say in unison: "Praise Order." Inside the restaurant, the owner led them up to the second floor, choosing the best private booth, whose window looked right out over the fountain in a small plaza outside. Laure took the menu, checked off several items, and tossed it back to the owner to add whatever else seemed fit. Then he picked up the teapot and poured tea for everyone. "Have a taste of Dark Moon Island's tea. It's called Moonlight Tea. The tea bushes grow on the cliffs right by the sea. According to the locals, it absorbs the essence of the Dark Moon." Hearing this, everyone raised their cups and took a sip, only for their expressions to stiffen. Laure finally couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. "Hahaha! Tastes terrible, doesn't it? That was my exact reaction the first time I drank it." Karen swirled the cup in his hand. At the first sip, a harsh aroma surged up, giving the impression of strong liquor. But that lasted only an instant before sinking into an intense bitterness, with no lingering sweetness even after waiting a long while. It felt less like drinking tea and more like downing herbal medicine. "How can the locals like drinking this?" Richard stuck out his tongue. "Probably got used to it over time," Laure guessed. "If they don't have a couple of cups a day to jolt their heads, they might feel like something's missing." "The food to follow won't be like this, right?" Richard asked. Laure immediately shook his head. "It's local seafood. A lot of the marine species can't be found anywhere outside." The dishes were served quickly, all presented in earthenware basins and loaded with seafood. Laure was right: Karen had never seen half of the marine creatures before, as they existed only in the waters around Dark Moon Island. Flavor-wise, though, Karen found them rather ordinary. They were heavily seasoned, as if a large spoonful of Wien bean paste had been dumped into every basin, masking the natural taste of the ingredients. On the other hand, the staple food dubbed "grey plaster" suited Karen's palate quite well. It had the texture of black sesame paste, yet with the silky richness of caviar. Karen mostly ate this staple, only picking up a bite of seafood once in a while. Richard and the other two, however, ate with great relish. One could only say that people from Wien favored heavy seasonings. Having finished his bowl of "grey plaster," Karen asked the server for another. Seeing this, Laure smiled. "Locally, this is called moben. It's made by grinding a grain that grows in the coastal shallows." "Grain can grow in seawater?" "I've seen it myself, though it only grows in nearshore waters. When harvesting, locals dive underwater and cut it just like reaping seaweed. That's also why the islanders revere the Dark Moon. Perhaps it really is thanks to the Dark Moon that so many aspects of this island are unique." Richard chimed in, "I heard the Dark Moon appears every other month?" "Yes. That month is the islanders' Moon-Watching Festival. Of course, while they call it moon-watching, it's really about kneeling in worship, because they believe everything they possess was bestowed by the Dark Moon." "We can pack some of this to take back," Karen said to Richard. "Sure thing!" "No need, no need! You can order it at the hotel," Laure said. "Moben isn't expensive, and our regular food and drink expenses won't cost us a dime. It's just that the hotel doesn't offer certain services, heheh." Laure wore a knowing smile. After finishing their meal, Laure went to pay the bill. The group then rode the carriage to a new destination, which resembled a theater with ticket counters divided into three colors. Five yellow ticket windows were open, three red ones, and a single purple one. Laure went to buy the tickets again, purchasing them from the purple window at 1,000 Order coupons each. Karen pulled out his wallet, but Laure pushed his hand back. "Come on, don't spoil the fun. Save the point coupons you brought to spend in your private booths later." Karen did not insist on paying. Going out with wealthy young masters had one great perk: you could freeload without any psychological burden. Still, looking at the purple ticket in his hand, the price was ridiculously steep. One whole pa just for an entrance ticket. There seemed to be no scheduled showtimes; one could present a ticket and enter at any time. When the ticket collector saw that all four held purple tickets, he rang a small bell. Immediately, four women dressed in traditional Dark Moon Island attire emerged, each taking one of the men by the wrist to lead him inside. The traditional dress of Dark Moon Island was predominantly white with dark red trim, not particularly revealing. Once inside the theater, the four were guided up to the third floor. The ground floor was for yellow ticket holders, the second floor for red, and the third for purple. Laure was the first to enter his private booth. Before stepping in, he called out to the other three: "Hey, have fun!" Karen was then led into his own booth. Inside was a small washroom and a bed, but the floor was crafted from special crystal platforms, allowing a clear view of the area below. The woman who escorted him in explained, "Rest assured, sir. The floor only allows you to see down below, but those below cannot see you." Karen looked down. The ground floor was filled with chairs, functioning as an open seating area. The second floor featured daybeds separated on both sides by curtains, offering a bit more privacy. The third floor consisted entirely of private booths with much higher confidentiality, while allowing you to watch how the people below indulged themselves, catering to voyeuristic impulses. Even more absurdly, a spyglass of the kind favored by pirates rested neatly on the room's counter, provided for convenient viewing. At the center of the entire theater was a massive pool where numerous figures were currently swimming. A closer look revealed that they were all merfolk, possessing no legs. Moreover, there were both mermen and mermaids. The mermen were bare-chested, while the mermaids wore swimwear covering their private areas. Along the edge of the railing stood a device resembling a harpoon launcher. Karen noted, however, that the firing slot held no arrow; instead, a tiny glowing gemstone was embedded within. When fired, it shot a slender beam of light that converged into a dot below. Whomever you fancied among the merfolk in the pool, you could tag them directly with the light, and staff would promptly bring them up to you. Looking even closer, one could see the merfolk in the pool were graded into three concentric rings. Anyone could choose from the outermost ring; the middle ring was reserved for guests on the second floor; and the innermost ring was exclusive to third-floor patrons. Naturally, third-floor guests were free to select from the outer rings as well, but generally speaking, the merfolk in the innermost ring were all exceptionally handsome men and beautiful women, boasting not only fine physiques and features, but also remarkable grace. Taking in the surroundings, Karen could only marvel inward: *The people of Dark Moon Island sure know how to indulge.* Soon, Karen noticed red dots lancing out from the adjacent booths, all landing in the inner ring. At 1,000 Order coupons a ticket, only the truly wealthy and powerful on Dark Moon Island could afford to come here. Furthermore, since Karen and his group had arrived right after lunch, outside peak hours, and the four booths they had entered were consecutively numbered one through four right by the stairs, those three red dots had clearly come from Laure and the others. Laure had been here before, so his proficiency was expected. But Richard and Leon had never visited, yet had mastered the rules in an instant. One could only say that men picked up on such matters with astonishing efficiency. Down below, attendants holding signs walked up to the edge of the pool. The merfolk targeted by the red dots swam to the edge of their own accord. Indeed, voluntarily—neither netted nor forced. Smiles even graced their faces; being chosen by guests evidently brought them genuine joy. Upon reaching the edge, the attendants placed a basin resembling a bathtub before them. The merfolk rolled into it of their own accord and were carried upstairs. Karen looked down again. Although patrons were few right now, there were still some, and quite a few spots below were already staging sights unfit for polite eyes. What puzzled Karen was that some of the merfolk selected by guests below actually had legs, even though they had lacked them while in the water. Only when a basin carrying a merman was carried into a partitioned cubicle below did Karen see an attendant administer a potion to him. Soon after, the fish tail transformed into a pair of legs. *So it's the effect of a potion.* Guests could choose to use the potion or not; after all, preferences varied. Karen checked the bed. Once he confirmed that the sheets and pillows were freshly replaced and clean, he lay down. He had no intention of using the launcher, nor did he plan to call up any merfolk. It was not out of moral superiority, but because the merfolk had human upper bodies. This whole "process" made Karen feel as though he were browsing a livestock market. Once the initial novelty faded, a mild sense of psychological discomfort took its place. He much preferred the atmosphere of snack shops or cafés. Therefore, while aware that refraining from placing an order might make him seem aloof if the trio next door found out, Karen had no desire to compromise his own comfort just to fit in with them. Nor had he ever intended to build relationships with Leon and Laure by forcing himself to conform. After all, they didn't belong to the same circle. Just then, Karen noticed a red dot appear on the headboard above him. "Hm?" Karen sat up and looked outside, only to find that the red dot had vanished. It had probably been a patron in one of the third-floor booths across the way whose hand slipped while moving the launcher, sweeping across his room. *Wait... that's not right.* Karen suddenly realized something: while those below could not see up, among the third-floor booths circling the perimeter at equal height, though you couldn't see the adjacent booths, the ones opposite were fully visible. And with no curtains in sight, the third floor was effectively semi-public. Fortunately, there were few patrons at this hour. If the place had been packed, it would hardly be different from putting on a public performance. The Mermaid Theater... the performers were not just the merfolk; the audience was part of the show as well. Karen lay back down, casually picking up the brochure by the bedside to flip through it. It recounted the history of the merfolk, and in a remarkably solemn manner, devoid of any sexual innuendo. According to the account, the merfolk were a unique race. A small fraction could learn human speech, but the vast majority could only understand without speaking, as their vocal cord anatomy differed from that of normal humans. They originally inhabited certain islands, but over a century ago, their habitats were destroyed by unusual circumstances, forcing them to migrate. The great Patriarch Bernard had welcomed them, allowing them to multiply and thrive in the reef regions near Dark Moon Island. Since then, many merfolk had come to revere the Dark Moon as well. However, the societal structure of the merfolk harbored customs and values vastly different from humans. They were more inclined to view themselves as monster beasts of the sea rather than humans, and to them, providing this kind of service was by no means a disgrace. Instead, just like catching fish or netting shrimp, it was regarded as perfectly normal labor. In history, a Dark Moon patriarch had once attempted to ban merfolk from participating in such adult services, only to face fierce backlash from the merfolk community itself. The living conditions around Dark Moon Island were so favorable that their population multiplied rapidly; under such demographic pressure, the merfolk desperately needed to work on the island to earn supplies. Thus, nearly every venue on Dark Moon Island akin to a snack shop featured merfolk. They considered it one of their natural, legitimate callings. Reading through the brochure, Karen genuinely could not tell whether this was an authentic historical account or merely designed to alleviate guests' guilt. When he reached the words on the final page, he froze: [Every order you place aids the survival of the merfolk race!] Putting down the brochure, Karen couldn't help muttering to himself: "Heh, soliciting prostitutes turned into a sacred crusade." ... "Your Highness, I've just confirmed. There are no merfolk in Mr. Karen's room, nor has he used the launcher to place an order. He is simply lying in bed resting by himself." The warrior woman Panmiel set down the launcher in her hands, turning to report to Ophelia, who sat behind her sipping tea. Beside Ophelia stood a mature woman with green pigments painted between her brows. She was the proprietor of this theater and a well-known female figure on Dark Moon Island, known as Madame Chenai. Rumor had it that she was of mixed blood, born to an islander and a merperson. Generally speaking, conception between humans and merfolk was exceptionally difficult; even if conception occurred, nearly all resulted in stillbirths. Thus, although the rumor persisted, there was no definitive conclusion as to whether Madame Chenai was truly of mixed heritage. Of course, before Ophelia, no matter how prestigious Madame Chenai's name might be, she could only serve with the utmost caution. Though she had no idea why the noble Miss Ophelia had come here, she had gleaned a fair bit from the warrior woman's words. *Sigh. When you run an establishment like this, wives coming to catch their cheating husbands is nothing new.* *Still, that man is truly daring, venturing into my establishment right under Her Highness's nose. Thank goodness he didn't place an order. If Her Highness were to lose her temper, I would inevitably get dragged into it.* "Your Highness, social obligations between men are sometimes unavoidable. In order not to sour relations, one cannot act overly aloof. When colleagues or superiors wish to come here for entertainment, it is very difficult to decline or refuse. "That... that Mr. Karen has already handled himself admirably." With that, Madame Chenai turned to the warrior woman Panmiel and asked, "Is this the gentleman's first time here?" "Yes," Panmiel nodded. "Ah, then it is all the more commendable! To resist the allure of novelty and curiosity on his very first visit—such a man is truly rare in this world." Madame Chenai knew well that flattering someone directly was often less effective than flattering the person they fancied. If Her Noble Highness were not interested in that man—or had no romantic feelings toward him—why would she ever grace this place in person? Ophelia did not respond. She couldn't be bothered to explain, nor did she care to conceal anything. The warrior woman Panmiel continued observing through the launcher, but this time she had learned her lesson and blocked the glowing stone; earlier, she had nearly been spotted by Mr. Karen. Ophelia took another sip of tea and asked, "Is he still alone?" "Yes, Your Highness. Still alone." Ophelia looked at Madame Chenai and asked, "I hear you have a top courtesan here?" "Yes, Your Highness. Normally, the privilege of ordering our headliner is auctioned off at eight in the evening," Madame Chenai added hastily. "If Your Highness wishes to see her, I will arrange for her to come pay her respects immediately." "No need to have her pay her respects to me. Send her to that room." Madame Chenai thought her ears had deceived her and asked instinctively, "Send her... to Mr. Karen's room?" "Yes." Ophelia set down her teacup, a faint smile gracing the corners of her lips as she said, "I cannot permit him to lack what others have."