Since We're Already Here

“Phew, we're safe.”

Several massive reefs stood upon the sandy shore, and a voice emerging from the shadows of the rocks sounded unnaturally clear against the quiet beach.

Following the voice, several figures stirred in the shadows.

Huddled in the darkness were four ordinary people, all clad in durable coarse cloth clothes and trousers. They lay cautiously flat on the sand, facing out toward the sea, keeping their voices dropped to a bare whisper.

It was a young man's voice, carrying the thick nasal twang characteristic of Lande locals, sounding much like a Rhine native.

“Then stay down and stay alert. They won't give us a second chance,” muttered a woman in a hushed voice this time.

“Relax, it'll be fine,” another young man chimed in. “Are those people really coming, though?”

“They definitely will. My source is absolute,” the woman replied with utmost seriousness. “Remember, these people are terrifying. We have to be extremely careful. If we get caught, we're finished.”

“There's not a soul out here. It's so late, who on earth would be wandering the beach enjoying the night breeze? You're way too tense,” the last man grumbled under his breath. “There's literally nobody else around. I don't believe someone's going to suddenly leap out and grind my face into the sand—pfft-ghrk!”

Before his words were even out, the other three watched in horror as a boot materialized out of thin air, slamming hard onto their companion's head and driving his face straight into the sand, even grinding its toe against his skull for good measure.

“Agh!”

The brief muffled shriek was cut short instantly. By the dim moonlight, the remaining three froze as they found a dark, gaping gun barrel aimed right at them. Terrified, none of them dared help their struggling companion in the sand. They threw up their hands simultaneously, lying glued to the ground, afraid to move or make a sound.

However, the woman quickly raised her head and peered at the figure that had appeared out of nowhere. She gasped in surprise, “Mr. Lynch Levive? Why is it you?”

“Yeah, I'd like to know that too. Why is it you?” Lynch delivered a sharp kick to the hip of the victim beneath his boot, sending him rolling a few turns until he bumped into his companions. Holstering his revolver, Lynch surveyed the surrounding beach to make sure there were no other moving shadows before glaring down at the woman lying on the ground with a cold snort. “Did surviving last time leave you so disappointed that you couldn't wait to try again? Do you need a completely thorough death to finally feel satisfied, Miss Maya?”

Indeed, one of the four hiding in the shadow was none other than Maya, the female reporter Lynch had saved not too long ago.

Lynch had sneaked behind the rocks intending to eavesdrop and figure out their identities, only to recognize her voice immediately. Realizing it was likely a huge misunderstanding, he had felt a massive headache coming on, so he circled back—and incidentally fulfilled a young man's wonderful wish.

“And these clothes... so you're the ones people saw wandering around on the beach?” Lynch ground his teeth in frustration. “I went through all that trouble to save your life just so you could skip sleep at home and come out to the beach at midnight to give me a heart attack, didn't I?”

“Shh, shh! It's not what you think, Mr. Detective, let me explain,” the female reporter waved her hand urgently, gesturing for Lynch to get down and keep low before explaining, “Precisely because someone spotted suspicious individuals here, we disguised ourselves like this to stake out the area! That way, even if we're seen, they might mistake us for accomplices and ignore us. We need to see what they're up to with our own eyes so our report has credibility.”

Veins throbbed on Lynch's forehead. He felt like this bunch of reporters could cure low blood pressure in a heartbeat. Gritting his teeth, he asked, “Do you even know what kind of things you're trying to report on, staking out in the middle of the night? You...”

“We do.”

“Hmm?” Lynch's brows furrowed.

The female reporter lowered her voice, whispering mysteriously, “It's pirates.”

Tsk. So you thought it was pirates. No wonder you dared to stake the place out. Wait, no, normal people wouldn't dare try to interview pirates either!

“You're all practically begging for an early grave, aren't you? Little Martha is still waiting on you to find jobs for those little brat friends of hers. If you die, who's going to help her?”

Lynch gripped his cane tight, severely tempted to swing it and crack each of them over the head, especially Maya—if he had known, he wouldn't have bothered saving her. But reporters were probably all like this. Lynch quickly calmed himself down and activated his Telepathic Conch so Miss Valente on the other end could hear as well. Then he snapped ill-temperedly:

“Those things are likely far more terrifying than ordinary pirates. Ms. Maya, you of all people should know exactly what I mean. I came here specifically for them. Now tell me clearly, what's going on with you guys?”

“Over the past few days, people have frequently spotted a group of strange fishermen lurking around here. Someone even saw a giant octopus near the river mouth, so I volunteered to cover it,” the female reporter explained without holding back, her eyes glowing with excitement as she spoke. Lynch realized her ordeal half a month ago hadn't frightened her off at all. “The intel we received says they're a group of pirates, and that cargo ship belonging to the Morale & Son firm that sank in nearby waters a few days ago might be connected to them.”

Deep Ones acting as pirates? That sounds surprisingly fitting. Lynch gave a thoughtful nod. “Go on.”

“Supposedly, the Dockworkers’ Mutual Aid Association and the Sailors’ Union might be in contact with them. In fact, those two unions might be the ones who brought them here in the first place! What passersby saw at night was likely the different parties meeting—maybe even transporting stolen goods,” the female reporter whispered, her voice laced with indignation. “Think about it! Pirates raid a Rhine cargo ship, and then turn around to transfer the looted goods back to Rhine official bodies! What a massive scandal that would be! Something like this cannot be tolerated. My tip says they're likely meeting somewhere near here, so we came in advance to stake out the spot.”

“Sigh... you really have no fear of death.”

“How can you get a big scoop without taking risks?” Maya smiled nonchalantly. “Mr. Detective, are those things really dangerous too? Like Elder Nikolai and his people?”

“Mr. Lynch,” Miss Valente's voice suddenly echoed from the Telepathic Conch. “I have had dealings with this Dockworkers’ Mutual Aid Association before.”

“Hmm?”

“They approached me once—or rather, they approached the Valente family—wanting us to join them in stopping the railway project.”

Lynch remembered. Miss Valente had mentioned this before. Could it be that because the Valente family rejected their alliance, they brought in pirates to help instead?

If that were true, it wasn't just a matter of conflict between cultists anymore. Bringing in outside enemies to attack the city was extremely dangerous in any era.

However, if they were bringing in outside forces, they wouldn't let pirates parade around so brazenly, even going into the city to cause trouble for the Yellow Apostle. That would be far too arrogant. Or was it that they weren't here to attack the city, but had a different goal entirely?

“Regardless, you must leave immediately. Those things are extremely dangerous, and your safety can't be guaranteed here. I'll escort you out. You...” Lynch hissed softly before he could finish.

Before his words were out, the distant sound of crashing waves was suddenly joined by the noise of water parting, followed by a bizarre chanting echoing across the sea.

A chorus of voices blended together, carrying a maddening, disorienting power that inflicted waves of horror and nausea upon anyone listening.

“Father in the deep sea, hallowed be thy name. May thy name be praised throughout the ages, may thy kingdom come, may thy will be done in the mortal world as it is in R'lyeh.”

“la, la, Cthulhu, fhtagn.”

Accompanied by the rhythmic, eerie chanting, several figures stepped across the waves in the darkness of the sea.