REND

“Deen, calm down.” I tugged the hem of her shirt. “People are staring. You’re drawing attention to us, like more than usual.”

“You’re not going to die,” Deen hissed at Reo. She spun a pointed finger around the table. “None of us are. I won’t allow it.”

“What do you mean you won’t allow—?” Reo began to say, his voice rising.

Everett cut him off. “Let’s calm down, guys. Mom always told me not to fight in front of food. I don’t know why, but it sounds like good advice. Reo, you told me you want to feel the vacation vibes, so chill with the defeatism, man. And Deen, Reo was just—"

“I was just telling it how it is.” Reo resumed eating. “I’ll drop it, okay? But I’ll also point out it isn’t defeatism—it’s realism.”

“I thought you were dropping it,” said Everett.

“Sure, yeah.” Reo waved a hand. “No need to pile on me. And Deen didn’t need to go off on me like that either.”

Everett was quick to defend his blonde muse. “She was just concerned about—”

“I’m sorry, Reo,” said Deen, apparently needing no defender.

“Fine, I’m sorry too… for my realistic pessimism.” Reo grinned at Everett. “Anyway, what were we talking about before this? Something about swimming to shore? I might just try it and bid you all adieu.”

“Sounds like defeatism,” I mumbled. That made Reo smile at me. And was that a wink? I didn’t intend to catch his attention; I just wanted to have some minor presence to not seem like a statue during group discussions.

“We’re all in this together, Reo,” Deen firmly said. “Don’t leave us.”

“Yes, we are,” Everett chimed in. “Don’t leave us.”

Would be neat to have a yes-man like Everett at the ready. The power of beauty truly couldn’t be underestimated, and the pathetic loyalty of a guy pining after the girl he likes knew no bounds. Ramon was a good example, though I prefer a yes-man to not be a half-mutated monster.

“No need to repeat it like a broken parrot,” said Reo.

“Broken parrot?” I chirped, seeing the opportunity to jump in. “They’re supposed to repeat stuff. Like a normal parrot, you mean?”

Reo paused and looked at me as if noticing me for the first time. I couldn’t recall the two of us having an actual meaningful conversation before. He laughed and nodded, his silky hair swaying. “Yeah, you’re right, Erind. A normal parrot. Don’t go joining them now and—”

I winked at him. “Don’t leave us.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” he said. “I’m helping you eat breakfast, and I’ll help you get yourself kill—oops, that’s defeatism right there. Let’s just focus on breakfast first. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you. I’m not going to swim back to shore.”

“You’re a swell guy for that.” Everett wagged a small breakfast sausage at Reo. “I’m honored to be your roommate for this trip.”

“Of course, you can count on me,” Reo said with exaggerated pride, thrusting his weak chest out. “What would my ancestors say if I abandoned my helpless friends? Honor and samurai code crap.”

“You won’t understand your ancestors,” said Everett, “because you don’t speak any Japanese.”

“I know some words like tonkatsu. It’s probably better I don’t meet any of my ancestral spirits or they’ll chew me out for being a dishonorable sack of potatoes. On a serious note—”

“Oh, you’re serious now?” I smiled at Reo to show I was messing with him. A nugget of a plan materialized in my mind.

Reo could be the key to leading the hero-wannabe group to the ships going to Red Island. More specifically, his stealthy spy fairy. If I could bring him to the location of the hidden ships, and his stupid fairy accidentally found them, no one would suspect I had insider information. They’d just think Reo succeeded in his usual role of being the scout. Compare that to if I found the ships—Dario would be suspicious for sure.

The group would split up and search the cruise ship for clues, just like what we did yesterday. I should rope in Reo to partner with me. ‘On paper,’ I was a normal human; they wouldn’t let me roam around on my own. Yesterday, my partner was Deen; I should ditch her now.

Add that Reo needed a partner as a lookout when he’d use his powers. The problem was that Reo wouldn’t want to be with ‘normal human’ me. He’d rather have someone with an artificial Core to defend him in his helpless state while his fairy was out and about.

Would my ‘feminine charms’ work on him? Was there even a chance he’d fall for me? He has a girlfriend if my memory serves me right.

I sort of knew how to deal with Everett from my interaction with him as Domino. But I had no idea what strings to pull when it came to Reo. If only Domino had run into Reo instead of Everett. She would’ve made herself useful before I shelve her emotional wreck of an ass.

“I’m being very serious here, Erind,” Reo replied. “I’m not leaving because I know you guys rely on me. Normally, I advise people not to do that—even I don’t want to count on me. However, when the going gets tough, and this is as tough as it is going to get, I’ll be there.”

“How sweet of you,” I cooed a bit. Deen gave me a perplexed sidelong glance.

“Yeah, you know me,” he said. “I’m as sweet as this cheesecake. Call me, Japanese cheesecake.”

“Man, don’t say disgusting things like that while we’re eating.” Everett pretended to vomit. We laughed. I must admit, that was a predictable but good response.

While the conversation turned to critique the food—it was just average for a buffet, sub-par for a luxury cruise—and the mounds of organic matter on my plates diminished, I gathered my thoughts in preparation for the group meeting.

Our other members were going to arrive soon. How can I lead them to the three ships bound for Red Island?

I had two more nights to prepare, not including the night of the trip to Red Island. Today, the ship would just be at sea. There’d be events, like plays at the theater, concerts at the top deck, movies by the pool, random stuff to entertain the passengers. It’d be the best time to snoop around the ship since it’d be the busiest, with all the people on board and milling about.

Tomorrow morning, the ship would stop at Catalina, where we could disembark and enjoy the island resort. That, or we could stay and continue snooping. However, it might be harder to move around undetected because there’d be fewer people on board. A lone tourist stomping around where she shouldn’t was pretty noticeable.

By the third night, the ship would set sail again, arriving at Ensenada, Mexico on the morning of the fourth day of the cruise. The situation would be the same at the Catalina stop—the passengers could go down from the ship and tour the place, returning by evening for the journey back home. We should have found the three ships by then—that was the easy part—and formulated a plan to sneak on board.

It was going to be one hell of a plan. Nine stowaways? Jubilee had stealth powers, and maybe we could leave Imani behind. So, six people to hide.

Going to be difficult not to get spotted in cramped ships full of snobby, rich people on their way to becoming monsterified. Mark’s grunts would be there too. Too bad Big Marcy couldn’t, or wouldn’t, help us.

“Making good progress here, guys,” said Reo, putting aside one empty plate. The other plate was also nearly cleared. “If only our mission would go as smoothly as eating food from a buffet. Can I just volunteer to stay here and stuff my face?”

“Have the last piece of pizza, Reo.” I rotated the plate and pushed it to him.

“You sure? But you didn’t eat any.”

“The crust’s too thick for me,” I said, though it had a thin crust. Stupid Domino getting this slice. As per my Rules, I had to eat the pizza’s crust first. I wasn’t in the mood to come up with an explanation for my eating habits. “And I don’t like pepperoni. I find it too salty.”

“More food to fuel my defeatism.” He folded the pizza slice and took a big bite. “I need to fatten myself for slaughter.”

Everett groaned. “Why are you bringing that up again?”

“Just a joke, my good old chap,” said Reo. “I can’t reject food when a girl offers it to me.”

“Am I feeding the sacrificial lamb?” I wondered in a cutesy tone. In the corner of my eye, Deen shifted uneasily. I smiled at Reo while adjusting my glasses. Many guys liked nerdy girls. Or just girls with glasses in general.

Also, I didn’t need Reo to like, like, me. It was enough if I could appeal to his heroic side—it should be there somewhere. He did sign up to be a hero-wannabe. Making him protective of me should be easier than making him fall for me, especially given that he thought I was a normal human. Even then, it might be hard to pull off when it came to Reo. If only I could use Domino to scope out his inner thoughts.

But I’m not going to summon you again, I thought, looking straight into the eyes of my reflection on the spoon.

“I like your gloves,” Reo said. “I haven’t seen you wearing those before. Are you feeling cold? Summer’s already peeking.”

“No, I, um, these are…” I nudged Deen’s leg with my knee. Making up an excuse wasn’t an issue, but I saw this as an opportunity to make Deen feel like I needed her. She knew I was far stronger than her, and it might alienate her, like a parent moping that their child was growing up, soon to leave the nest.

“I bought them for Erind as a gift,” said Deen. “I dragged her shopping several times, but she didn’t want to buy anything above bland—”

“How dare you criticize my outfits,” I jokingly protested.

“—so, I got those for her so she’d have something setting her apart,” Deen finished. “Fingerless gloves aren’t really trendy, making them pair well with Erind’s fashion style—or lack of it.”

“You’re bullying me.” I bumped her leg again.

Deen continued her fashion lecture. “They go well with your slender hands and accent your nondescript outfits. The gloves may look out of place, but you’re owning them as part of your style, becoming something iconic and recognizable. It could be your brand. I believe working on one’s style helps build a sense of identity.”

“I agree with you there, professor.” Reo gestured to his aloha shirt. He opened one more button. “Too much cleavage?” he asked Everett, who was pretending to puke. “At least I’m trying different styles, compared to you, Mr. Fitting Muscle Shirt. How about buying clothes that are not one size too small?”

Everett opened his mouth. No witty comeback came out. He stood up, beet-faced, and mumbled, “I’m going to, uh, get more food. I’m still hungry.”

“Don’t forget salads,” called Deen over Reo’s boisterous laughter.

“Aren’t you going to go with him?” I asked Reo, who stayed seated.

“I ate enough already,” he replied. “My stomach’s going to be all messed up when our fearless leader, Dario, arrives and we go into serious mode. Stress causes indigestion.” He delivered it in his usual joking way, but his eyes revealed he meant it. He knew he was about to get stressed, and he was stressed of getting stressed.

Very unreliable for my plans.

“Oh, look.” Deen pointed at the doors. “Myra and Johann are here.”

They waved at us. Myra gestured they’d get food first before joining us. Everett a plate in hand, headed to greet them.

“Where’s Dario?” I asked. “He’s roommates with Johann, isn’t he?”

“Maybe Dario traded places with Myra,” whispered Reo, leaning close to as with a conspiratorial grin.

“No way,” I said. “Dario’s probably just brushing his teeth or something and Johann went ahead to fetch Myra.”

“That’s what a sane person would think,” Reo said. “You can never be too sure. Workplace romance is pretty common.”

“Are they an item?” Deen said.

“Maybe an item, maybe not.” Reo wiggled his head. “There’s something there, I guarantee it. I’m never wrong when it comes to things like this—it’s on my resume if you want to check. Compared to before, those two are getting closer.”

“Really?” said Deen. “That’s news to me. I thought Johann had a girlfriend.”

I tuned out the gossiping—Deen seemed invested in it—since I already knew the truth. Myra and Johann got closer because they were conspiring against Dario.

Myra Fletcher, who went by the codename Barb, dyed her hair purple, changing its previous metallic blue. The ends of her bob cut traced her jawline, while her bangs covered her whole forehead up to her eyebrows. Were a new hairstyle and color indication of hidden romance? A baggy Eloyce University sweatshirt settled on her athletic frame, while her shorts stopped an inch above her knee, showing tanned skin.

Going by stereotypes, she’d be the bubbly sports girl. In actuality, she had a brash and aggressive attitude and was the ‘muscle’ of the group.

Super strength and regeneration, Myra was the strongest among the hero wannabes. Still far from matching my physical prowess, of course. When it came to abilities, she could grow bark-like material from her skin that she could mold into armor and blades. Quite sturdy as it could stop bullets. She could also form projectiles with it and shoot them like she did when she tried to kill me.

I never forgot about that slight against me. Payback was required to keep things in balance, as per Rule #4, and it would be grievous once her usefulness ran out.

Part of me hoped she and Johann had a thing going on so I could emotionally torture them before escorting them out of the living world. I just couldn’t see her falling for Johann, though.

Johann Martin Fischer—surprising that I recalled his full name—was a lanky beanpole. His wide shoulders made it worse because he had to wear a too-large shirt that highlighted his thinness as it draped over his body. If only he could transfer some of Everett’s muscles onto him.

Looks-wise, Johann was someone easily missed. If he and Dario were brothers in a fantasy story, Dario would be the famous one, the chosen hero or whatever going on adventures saving the kingdom, and Johann would be the brother left behind tending, the farm in a backwater village. It was a fitting analogy as Johann didn’t have an artificial Core, the only human in the hero-wannabe group, La Esperanza Chapter. He worked as a technician at a police station’s Adumbrae investigation unit and fed the group with leads and movements of the police. He also helped me get police clearances, so I suppose I shouldn’t emotionally torture him.

Sometimes I was nice to people who were nice to me. Sometimes, not.

“You don’t look so good, Johann,” Reo said. “Hangover? Coffee is your answer.”

“Coffee is a diuretic,” said Johann as he sat down on the left of Reo while Everett sat on the right. “It may further dehydrate me and prolong my hangover. I’ll just stick to plain water and fruits. Are you guys fine after last night?”

“Yeah, ‘course we are,” said Reo. “Me and Everett here got inhuman tolerance for alcohol.”

“Ah, that’s right,” said Johann, massaging his temples, elbows propped on the table. “It’s times like this I wonder if I should’ve joined you in your inhumanity.”

“It has its perks and downsides,” Myra said. She sat on the other side of Deen. “Cute braids, Deen. Looks good on you.”

“Thank you so much,” said Deen, bouncing her locks in her palm. She sounded genuinely pleased with herself. “If you grow your hair longer, you can try it too. Do the multi-color braid style.”

“I’ll think about it. I’m kinda tired of long hair, too annoying to manage, and sometimes gets too hot.”

“Erind said she’ll try braiding her hair too,” Deen said.

Damn, that fucking Domino promised Deen about that! “We’re not complete yet?” I asked to distract Deen. “Where’s Dario? Isn’t he with you, Johann?”

“He left the room early,” Johann replied. “Went straight to the gym to work out. Said he needed to clear his mind for this mission. I think he showered at the gym and went to Jubilee and Imani. Hey, he’s here now.”

Dario entered the restaurant, looking like a protagonist. He had an assured face, his blonde hair neatly combed right, and his bearing screamed confidence. If I was a director, I’d cast him as the leader of the band of heroes. He should be front and center of every fight, wielding a sword and looking cool… but his powers didn’t reflect his looks.

He had more of a support role, generating a field around him that gifted people with migraines at its lowest setting, up to straight-up knocking people out at maximum. And with his touch, he could erase memories, fitting for his codename—Blank.

He was practically hangover personified.

That’s a good one, I thought. I was going to reserve that line when we’d eventually face off against each other.

“Oh, leader of the pack,” Reo said, bowing to Dario. “How is your morning?”

“Where’s Jubilee and Imani?” asked Johann. “Didn’t you go to them?”

“I didn’t pass by their room,” Dario said. “I intended to, but I spent too much time on the treadmill, lost in thoughts. I assumed they’d be here already.”

And just as he said it, Jubilee and Imani walked through the door. Jubilee waved at us, while Imani was just clinging to her side, her face a mess. She clearly had been crying.

Deen and I looked at each other. This is bad.