Chapter 188: Cracking the Facade of Unity
Ross chuckled and shook his head at Otohime's stunned expression. He waved a hand in front of her face until her eyes refocused, then spoke slowly, as if laying out a map. "I don't dive into these talks often, but let's start simple. Whatever we chase—peace, equality—we've got to know ourselves and what we really want. Sound fair?"
Otohime nodded firmly, pursing her lips. "Absolutely. Rushing in blind would just be a waste."
"Good. Then let's break it down: you and your goals." Ross leaned back, his tone steady like a seasoned navigator charting unknown waters. "First question. You preach peaceful coexistence between humans and merfolk. So, tell me—is there zero bad blood between mermaids and fish-men?"
Otohime froze. Her instinct was to blurt "yes," but the recent nightmare clawed at her memory: the betrayal, the kidnapping by a fish-man who lured her into a trap. She couldn't lie to herself. "No... there isn't."
The admission hung heavy. Fish-Man Island's Ryugu Kingdom, a World Government member nation, was mostly mermaid-led. Fish-men clustered elsewhere, outsiders even to their own home. And Fish-Man District? That chaotic underbelly said it all—abandoned kids dumped in the shadows, a lawless haze where the desperate scraped by.
Ross nodded, patient as ever. "Your silence says enough. So if fish-men and mermaids clash, doesn't that poke a hole in your human-merfolk harmony dream from the jump?"
"No!" Otohime shook her head sharply. "Sure, fish-men and mermaids butt heads, but their beef with humans is way worse. I want to fix that—bring humans and merfolk to at least the same shaky truce we have among ourselves."
In her mind, it ranked like levels on a dive: mermaid-fish-man relations at a wobbly three out of five, humans barely scraping a one.
Ross pressed on. "So you see mermaids and fish-men as one lumped group against humans? Or are they equals in this mess?"
"Fish-men... mermaids... humans?" Otohime blinked, caught off guard. She'd always lumped her kind together as "merfolk" versus the surface world. But Ross was forcing her to peel it apart.
He'd already spotlighted the rift between fish-men and mermaids. If they weren't one unit, why pretend?
"Fish-Man Island's home to both," she countered weakly.
"Ever had a fish-man king or queen on the Ryugu throne?" Ross asked casually.
Otohime's gaze dropped. She racked her brain through centuries of history—nope. Mermaids ruled, always had. Fish-men and mermaids could interbreed, even with humans, but the crown stayed mermaid-exclusive. Little Mermaid tales? Sure. But a fish-man ruler? Never.
"And don't they live segregated?" Ross added.
"Mostly, yeah," Otohime admitted. "Mermaids in the palace zones, fish-men deeper down. But marriages mix things up—some live together."
Ross shrugged. "Exceptions don't make the rule. From what I know, those mixed homes are a drop in the ocean compared to Fish-Man District. And you know that place better than anyone—it's a powder keg."
She couldn't argue. Fish-Man District was Fish-Man Island's rotten core: infanticide spots, gray-market deals, the site of her own future murder. The rare mermaid-fish-man pairs there? Mostly desperate strays, orphans with nowhere else. If anything, it screamed division, not unity.
Two races so split—save for shared blood and the Ryugu Kingdom's loose grip—couldn't just be bundled as "merfolk." Otohime wanted real coexistence, not some royal decree propping it up. Neptune might spout that line, but she couldn't stomach it.
"They're... independent, I guess," she murmured, deflated but honest. Naivety had its perks—she owned her blind spots.
Ross's eyes gleamed. Otohime was putty in his hands, a fresh canvas. Guide her thoughts right, and he'd paint the picture he wanted. It was his favorite game. "If they're separate, what exactly do you want? Mermaids cozying up to humans? Fish-men too? Or the whole merfolk package?"
"Can't it be all of it?" She peeked up, voice tentative, bracing for pushback.
Ross shot back, "There are a hundred races out there. Why stop at merfolk? Why not push them all toward humans?"
"But... they get along fine with humans already," Otohime whispered. "Those land kingdoms have tons of humans mixed in."
He caught every word. With a wry glance, Ross leaned in. "Ever heard of non-affiliated countries? Elbaf, the giants' stronghold—strongest warriors around—hasn't joined. And the ones that did? They pay through the nose. You really want to know the cost?"
Her curiosity won out. "What price?"
"Yearly tribute to the Holy Land Mary Geoise and their backer nations," Ross said flatly. "From a hundred to ten thousand of their own—sacrificed lives. What happens to them? Use your imagination."
Otohime's stomach twisted. It was no secret—the World Government squeezed its allies dry. Tribes signing on as member nations weren't saints either; they'd trade flesh for "protection." But hearing it laid bare? It shattered her rosy view of surface alliances.
Ross watched her process it, the seeds of doubt taking root. Step by step, he'd unravel her ideals, reshaping them into something sharper—something useful.
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