Above the Ocean Surface
Inside a meeting room, a group of Doom Lab researchers were deep in discussion.
The lead researcher, a young man with brown hair and black-rimmed glasses, stood at the front, presenting the results of their recent data analysis.
"Every day, large and small earthquakes occur in the ocean," he stated calmly.
After reading the analysis from the Brown Hair Research Institute, one researcher frowned, feeling that the report was unnecessarily dramatic.
"Muran, this doesn't necessarily mean the sea monster has awakened."
Muran, the young man, replied, "We discovered eggshell fragments from a particular creature in the surrounding seawater."
The presentation screen flickered and changed a few times, finally displaying the image of a pale white eggshell.
If Lansi were still present, he would have recognized it immediately.That was his eggshell.
"According to our data, this is the eggshell of a new type of organism. The good news is that we've only found one so far."
"But the bad news is that the creature from the Nate Trench has awakened and was seen near the shallow sea," Muran added grimly.
The researchers collectively drew in a sharp breath.
The ocean, once passive and seemingly submissive to human activity, had struck back in the year 487 AD, during the apocalypse. From the abyss, a deep-sea monster had risen and passed judgment on mankind.
Since then, the surviving humans had maintained a delicate balance with the sea—one that they dared not disturb.
Now, the reawakening of the being from the Nate Trench threatened to shatter that fragile peace.
"Now that it's awake, do we have any idea what's inside that particular sea monster?" a young researcher asked.
Muran exhaled slowly before responding.
"Unlike most known sea monsters, which evolved from existing marine life, this one is... different."
No one truly knew what the creature within that massive shell looked like. A machine from the research institute had once scanned it, but the only result was that its form was not fixed. It was a shifting mass of matter, impossible to describe.
The only consolation was that it usually remained dormant and had shown no interest in the continent.
"In most of its sightings, it appears with tentacles," Muran explained, pointing to a massive black pit visible in shallow waters. "This is the mark it left behind."
Why it suddenly awoke and moved toward the shallows was a mystery.
The best course of action, it was agreed, would be to send out a field team to investigate.
"I've already chosen a candidate," Muran said. "Send Colonel Wen Yu and his team."
The room fell silent at the mention of that name.
"Wen Yu? A colonel? Is he... really up for this?" someone asked uncertainly.
"Maybe," Muran answered coldly. "Who knows?"
Meanwhile, in the Depths
Unaware that his birthplace had been discovered by a group of researchers, Lansi was dealing with his own problems.
Under cover of fleshy arms and legs, he had been tirelessly digging a tunnel for escape.
Despite trying different methods—and even after the flesh had reshaped several times—the exit still eluded him.
Lansi had long figured out that the "clean freak octopus" liked feeding him meaty arms and legs. Every day, it would deliver freshly processed limbs into the coral bone den, apparently for his nourishment.
Lansi took the opportunity to replace the old flesh cuffs with new ones while the tentacle was away, then waited for the tentacle to dispose of the old ones.
He had never revealed his true intentions.
Privately, he often thought with biting sarcasm that if his appetite increased, the creature might slice up its entire body just to keep feeding him.
What should I do with this pitiful little tentacle?
For now, Lansi kept up his obedient act.
Over time, he realized that the tentacle seemed oddly indulgent toward him. It had misunderstood Lansi's earlier antics as affection.
For example, it thought Lansi enjoyed tossing pearls with it.
The next day, the tentacle delivered a dozen massive pearls. The smallest was the size of a basketball, while the largest—purple and glimmering—fit snugly in a fist.
Lansi had no choice but to act delighted. He gathered the pearls under the tentacle's gaze, took one out, and began playing along.
But once the tentacle left, he sat in the pile of pearls with a disgusted expression, lamenting the fact that this wasn't land.
If he were still alive and aboveground, just one of these pearls would have made him a millionaire.
Of course, that was only wishful thinking.
After several rounds of hide-and-seek with the tentacle, Lansi began to notice its patterns.
Every time the tentacle visited, the sea above his head would darken slightly, and about five minutes later, it would slither into the coral cave.
From his observation, it came to visit once a day.
Today, as usual, Lansi pushed aside the fleshy limbs and began to dig again.
The deeper he dug, the harder the coral bone became, and his fingers ached more each time.
Yesterday, one of his hands had already started hurting, but he hadn't taken a break. Today, the pain intensified.
Inside the dim cave, not even a glowing pearl could help him see. He could only dig by feel.
Suddenly, there was a sharp crack—and pain shot through his fingertips.
Lansi froze. Then the scent of blood reached his nose.
No way...
He scrambled out of the tunnel and, in the dim light, saw that several of his fingernails had split. Blood welled up from his fingertips.
The pain was so intense that tears sprang to his eyes.
Even if he was a man, the agony of five cracked nails was too much.
He sobbed, and from his eyes rolled tears that turned into small pearls as they slid down his cheeks.
Lansi didn't notice. He was too consumed by the pain.
But then he saw something incredible. The wounds on his fingertips were healing rapidly—so fast it could be seen with the naked eye.
At first, it seemed like a miracle.
But for Lansi, it was a nightmare.
The broken nails didn't fall off. They were mending inside his flesh. They bent, twisted, and regrew in the wrong position.
Lansi clenched his teeth and tried to pull them out, but failed.
In the end, he collapsed onto the sandy floor, curled his tail around himself, and cried like a child.
Before long, the sea sand around him was sprinkled with tiny, white pearls.
Then the tentacle arrived.
It spotted Lansi curled on the sand and noticed the glimmering pearls scattered around him. It froze in surprise.
Lansi lifted his red-rimmed eyes and looked up at the tentacle as it twisted nervously.
He blinked. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed through the tears.
That small laugh finally broke the sorrow in the water.
Relieved, the tentacle approached Lansi slowly.
Lansi hesitated, then extended his injured hand toward it.
He had heard that some sea creatures had eyes on their tentacles. Maybe this one could "see" his wounds.
The tentacle stiffened in surprise, then gently touched Lansi's hand with its tip.
When it brushed the cracked nails, Lansi winced and hissed in pain. The tentacle instantly stopped.
Lansi was stunned.
Could it actually understand...?
The tentacle coiled slightly, then tried to examine the hand again. But Lansi instinctively pulled back, overwhelmed by pain.
This made treatment difficult.
To heal the fingers, the broken nails had to come out first.
The tentacle understood that much, but Lansi kept resisting.
He didn't know if it was from fear of the pain or simply an aversion to being touched.
There was a struggle between the merman and the tentacle.
Finally, Lansi snapped and bit the tip of the tentacle.
The tentacle froze.
Lansi spat it out with a "bah" and swam into the anemone, gritting his teeth.
The pain was tolerable. It was just five nails.
The tentacle hovered there silently for a moment, then twisted in place, clearly exasperated.
The bite didn't hurt much. It was just a tickle.
But still...
Why had Lansi broken his nails in the first place?
The tentacle pondered this, then quietly extended a small strand and crept toward the pile of meaty limbs.
It used to think that its little fish simply liked collecting food.But now, it suspected Lansi might be up to something entirely different.