The moment Lansi woke up, he burst into a smile the second he saw Winsor. Then, he laughed out loud.
He just couldn't seem to stop.
There was really no helping it. To the rest of the world, Winsor possessed an incomparably striking, flawless face; but in Lansi's eyes right now, that face was permanently overlaid with the image of a shocked black sheep going *"Baa."*
Winsor: "..."
Once he had finally laughed his fill, Lansi wiped the smile from his face, sat up straight, and turned to Winsor. "Well, you've officially seen the Will inside my dreamscape."
Noticing Lansi's shift to a serious tone, Winsor nodded, a trace of lingering distress shadowing his features. "Yes... he is a part of me."
Seeing his conflict, Lansi knew Winsor was still torturing himself over the dark impulses he had harbored in the beginning.
It truly was a strange phenomenon. Winsor was fundamentally a cosmic, non-human entity. Back when he resided in the absolute solitude of the deep ocean, his emotions had been as cold and detached as any cold-blooded creature. Yet now, perhaps because the human fragments of his time as Wen Yu had left a permanent mark, he had become remarkably sentimental.
Of course, to protect his innate arrogance, Winsor had been deeply loath to expose such a wretched, vulnerable side of himself to Lansi.
But regardless of his methods, Winsor had undeniably come alive. The moment an entity begins to actively consider the feelings of another, a true connection is forged—meaning Winsor had officially "begun to exist" in a social, empathetic sense.
"Hey, don't worry about Will," Lansi said, leaning forward to plant a comforting, soothing kiss on Winsor's cheek. "I know the difference. He is him, and you are you."
"But I am the source," Winsor explained, an anxious edge creeping into his voice. "Every living creature that carries my cells will inevitably be influenced by my subconscious... I love you, Lansi. Therefore, everything derived from me will love you, too."
Lansi's mouth parted slightly in sheer surprise.
Suddenly, a massive puzzle piece clicked into place. He finally understood why every single terrifying sea monster had been so bizarrely friendly the moment they laid eyes on him. At first, he had naively assumed it was just some natural affinity because he was a merman.
Now it appeared to be a literal cosmic law: *God* had declared his love for Lansi, and therefore, God's creations were bound by their very biology to love him in return.
If Winsor's theory held true, then the humans who had been injected with that special genetic serum back on land would also be instinctively drawn to "love" Lansi. That certainly explained Earl Will's highly erratic, obsessive behavior during the auction.
Lansi realized with a sudden jolt that Winsor's terrifyingly intense possessiveness had accidentally been broadcast into a strange, widespread "fraternity" through his genetic code.
"But can you actually control every single thought of the creatures that carry your genes?" Lansi asked, tilting his head.
Winsor shook his head. "No. I can only project a profound influence over them. It does not mean I dictate their individual thoughts or actions."
"Then that settles it! It just proves that you are you, and Will is Will," Lansi concluded, flashing a bright, radiant smile. "Winsor, you never actually acted on Will's dark fantasy of locking me away."
Since their fundamental choices and thoughts were entirely different, why should they ever be considered the same person?
Staring at Lansi's pure, unblemished smile, Winsor blinked. The suffocating darkness that had gripped his heart since the dream seemed to vanish completely in that single instant, swept away like morning mist.
The more clearly he realized this, the more precious and breathtaking Lansi's existence became to him.
"My treasure," Winsor murmured, his eyes pooling with an immense, overflowing tenderness.
He thought to himself that he had truly, irrevocably fallen in love with this beautiful little white fish. He loved him so deeply that even this chaotic, tiny planet had suddenly become incredibly endearing.
Lansi let out a soft giggle at the affectionate pet name. After a brief hesitation, he decided it was finally time to address a lingering matter.
Reaching into his belongings, Lansi pulled out the hidden communication device and held it out to Winsor. "This is the communicator Carl bought for me back when I was working as an orderly... I was still debating what to do with it, but looking at your current state, I think it's time I showed it to you."
*Do you remember the excuse the little seagull had used when trying to "return" the device to Lansi earlier? "This communication device always flashes and flashes."*
In reality, the constant flashing wasn't a mechanical glitch at all. It was Carl, who had been tirelessly sending text messages to Lansi's communicator almost every single day. Because Lansi had never configured the device properly, the screen simply lit up in a bright, rhythmic pulse every time a new message arrived from the surface.
Previously, because Lansi hadn't been entirely sure of Winsor's true stance on humanity, he had wrestled with whether or not to disclose its existence. But now, Lansi felt Winsor was stable enough to make a conscious choice regarding their ties to the human world.
Carl's messages had arrived without fail, day after day:
`[September 17]`
`[Lansi, have you made it back to the ocean? The Boss is with you, right?]`
To the rest of the Human Alliance, that specific date marked the official anniversary of Colonel Wen Yu's tragic death.
But Carl had never believed for a single second that Wen Yu was truly gone. He firmly believed that the ending of a proper fairy tale had to be beautiful. For instance, if the mermaid managed to return to the sea this time without dissolving into sea foam, then the prince had to be alive too—and they absolutely had to get married.
`[September 18]`
`[Lansi, I don't know if your communicator is still with you. I miss you, and I miss the Boss.]`
`[September 19]`
`[I wanted to go out to sea to look for the Boss, but Rose wouldn't let me. She believes the Boss is still alive, too. Lansi, if you ever come back to see us, make sure to bring the Boss with you.]`
`[September 20]`
`[Maybe you don't want to come back, Lansi. Things are getting a bit strange within the Alliance.]`
`[September 21]`
`[Don't come back.]`
The messages that followed after that date were all identical, repeating a single, stark warning: `[Do not come back.]`
Carl's clear intention was to keep Lansi as far away from the Human Alliance as possible. However, the ominous shift in his tone only succeeded in making Lansi deeply curious about what was currently unfolding on land.
After all, Winsor's emotional splinter—Will—was currently running loose within the Alliance. Lansi knew with absolute certainty that if a malicious entity like Will was allowed to embed himself within human society, the Alliance risked being completely swallowed whole by his corruption.
Winsor took the small communication device from Lansi's hands, his eyes tracking the series of glowing text messages. As he read, his brow arched slightly.
Noticing the subtle shift in his expression, Lansi nudged closer and asked cautiously, "What do you think we should do?"
In the past, Winsor had always presented choices to Lansi, watching him make decisions from a distance like an aloof, detached deity. But this time, the tables had turned. It was Lansi's turn to watch Winsor face a crossroads. Winsor was finally being forced to step down from his role as a mere bystander in this world.
"The reason I didn't show you this sooner was because I was deeply conflicted myself," Lansi admitted softly.
His brief, tumultuous experience on the shore had taught him a harsh truth: the profound evolutionary chasm between himself and humanity couldn't be bridged simply by comforting himself with the thought that *'we all used to be human.'* If he truly wanted to live a peaceful, unburdened life, staying as far away from human civilization as possible was undoubtedly the smartest choice.
Yet, possessing more than twenty years of deeply ingrained human memories made "distancing oneself from humanity" far easier said than done. Lansi was simply not built to completely sever his emotional ties to mankind.
That was why he had hidden the communicator initially. As long as he kept his options open, he always had a path of retreat, whether he chose to move forward or stay behind.
But Winsor's situation was entirely different now. The dark mermaid was being forced to make a definitive choice:
Would he allow Will to grow in power within the Alliance until he became strong enough to directly challenge the host body? Or would he return to the Alliance, reunite with old acquaintances, execute Will, and finally bring absolute peace back to his own mind?
Faced with this crossroads, Winsor experienced that agonizing human sensation of weighing potential gains and losses all over again. Instinctively, he tried to defer the choice back to Lansi, but Lansi firmly refused.
"You have to make this choice for yourself, Winsor," Lansi said earnestly. "Choosing to be with you was the biggest, most defining decision I have ever made. It completely reshaped my entire life. Now, it's your turn."
Even though Winsor had existed for countless millennia, witnessing the literal rise and fall of entire human civilizations, there were still certain emotional landscapes where he remained far less mature than Lansi.
Winsor silently scrolled through the text messages a few more times. After a long pause, he finally spoke. "Let's go back and take a look."
Hearing those words, Lansi happily thwacked his tail against the sand. "And here I thought you were going to ruthlessly abandon Carl to his fate!"
Winsor was momentarily speechless. After a moment, he shook his head and let out a soft, low sigh. "He, too, is a pitiful soul."
Carl's reputation within the Human Alliance had never been favorable. Because he acted as Wen Yu's shadow, executing his orders unconditionally and defending him fiercely against any critics, many outsiders couldn't comprehend his devotion. They frequently sneered behind his back, labeling Carl as Wen Yu's "mad dog."
In truth, that derogatory title wasn't entirely inaccurate—because Carl had quite literally been pulled out of a pile of corpses by Wen Yu.
When Wen Yu had first found him, Carl had looked like nothing more than a shivering, panicked stray dog caught in the aftermath of a torrential rainstorm. At that point in his existence, Wen Yu hadn't cared about humanity in the slightest.
Yet, while clearing the ruined battlefield, his gaze had fallen upon Carl. He had found it mildly fascinating that a single human life could be so extraordinarily stubborn and resilient against such impossible odds. Out of a fleeting whim of curiosity, Wen Yu had ordered his medics to pull the battered soldier from the dead.
Afterward, because the remaining survivors shunned Carl for emerging alive from a "corpse pile," Wen Yu saw that the young man had absolutely nowhere else to go. Casually, he threw him a lifeline and gave him a place within his personal ranks.
At the time, Wen Yu's act of charity had been nothing more than a passing, insignificant caprice.
But a passing whim to a god can feel like the descent of a sacred miracle to a mortal. For Carl, that single gesture had completely redefined the meaning of his entire existence.
As for why Carl had developed such a fanatical, unyielding loyalty toward him over the years, even Wen Yu himself had never fully understood it. Perhaps foolish people simply possessed their own unique brand of unshakeable stubbornness.
Later on, if Winsor was ever forced to place his trust in a single human being, that human would only ever be Carl. It was a mutual, unspoken bond that transcended both of their natures.
"Then it's settled! We're heading back!" Lansi didn't even wait for Winsor to map out an actual travel itinerary. As if injected with a sudden burst of adrenaline, he rapidly shifted his pristine white fish tail back into a pair of slender human legs, turning into a literal whirlwind as he dashed off to pack his things.
Winsor: "..."
*Is there truly a need for such frantic urgency?*
A mere thirty minutes later, Lansi emerged from his shelter, dragging a massive, bulging suitcase behind him. He found Winsor standing by the shore, softly murmuring his final instructions to the little seagulls and the little turtles.
Winsor stared blankly at the gargantuan piece of luggage Lansi was hauling across the sand. His lips twitched slightly before he managed a quiet mutter: "That is... entirely too much."
Looking at him now, Lansi's hyper-prepared, chaotic packing mentality looked identical to the day he had originally snuck his way onto the luxury cruise ship.
Here is the edited and polished version of Chapter 16.
For this chapter, I ensured absolute consistency with your master list (**Lansi** and **Winsor**).
Stylistically, I leaned into the cozy, lighthearted comedy of the negotiation between Lansi and the entrepreneurial seagulls, while maintaining the bittersweet, gentle tone of his farewell to the wise little turtle. I also smoothed out the literal translation of the turtle's idiom to a beautifully natural English equivalent while keeping the turtle's signature "dashed" speaking style perfectly intact.
---
## Chapter 16
To ensure he wouldn't suffer from a single shred of buyer's remorse later, Lansi had packed every single bag he could find, both big and small, culminating in the massive suitcase he had used during his original cruise ship journey.
But the immediate problem was: how on earth was Lansi supposed to move it?
The ocean was a far cry from the land. Down in the deep, there wouldn't be any convenient human transportation to help him wheel a gargantuan suitcase across the seafloor.
Lansi blinked, choosing to completely ignore Winsor's skeptical look. Turning his head toward the little turtle, a sudden realization hit him—he really ought to say a proper goodbye to the local sea monsters before leaving.
Lansi walked over, sat cross-legged on the sand beside Winsor, and asked the little turtle, `[Winsor and I are heading back to the human world. Do you want to come along with us?]`
The little turtle shook its head, its refusal firm and unyielding: `[NO——GO——]`
Venture back to the human shore? Absolutely not. It was simply far too dangerous. If Lansi hadn't intervened back then, the poor turtle would have been boiled into a steaming pot of turtle soup in that seafood restaurant. This massive psychological trauma had led the turtle to vow never to approach human civilization ever again.
`[That's such a pity.]` Lansi felt a wave of disappointment washing over him at the turtle's resolute refusal.
To be perfectly honest, after spending so many days sharing the island with the little turtle, he had grown incredibly fond of its slow, steady presence and had gotten thoroughly used to its company.
`[ALL—GOOD—THINGS—MUST—COME—TO—AN—END—]`
The little turtle, however, viewed the matter with profound philosophical detachment. Having lived for so many centuries and witnessed countless partings and reunions with various friends, it had long since grown numb to the sorrow of goodbyes.
Hearing the little turtle speak with such sudden, unexpected wisdom only made Lansi feel even more reluctant to leave it behind: `[It's rare to find a sea monster with such a refined sense of culture.]`
After all, the vast majority of the entities in the sea monster group chat were delightfully dimwitted and clumsy.
The little sea turtle seemed to share his sentiment, its thoughts evidently drifting toward the chaotic group chat as it replied: `[I—SPEAK—TOO—SLOWLY—NO—GOOD—AT—TALKING—IN—THE—GROUP—]`
If the little turtle tried to type a single sentence in that chat, its slow pace meant it would be utterly buried under a landslide of spam from the other sea monsters before it could even finish its first word.
Lansi visualized the hilarious scene for a brief moment and nearly burst into laughter.
`[Buy—!]`
The little seagull didn't care a whit about the sentimental, philosophical musings of the sea turtles. Sensing a prime business opportunity, it instantly strutted forward to pitch its exclusive aerial transport package.
`[SINGLE RATE: 250! COUPLES DISCOUNT: 450! ONE DAY AND ONE NIGHT, FREE SHIPPING!]`
The seagull proudly extended its small wings, gesturing toward its younger seagull brother standing faithfully beside it.
The little brother immediately puffed out his chest, throwing his full, enthusiastic support behind his boss's capitalist endeavor: `[Buy—!]`
The two mermaids fell into a dead silence.
After a brief pause, Lansi offered a gentle, polite rejection: `[No thank you, I think I'll just swim back with Winsor.]`
Flying on a proper airplane was comfortable enough, but being gripped by a flock of frantic seagulls and hoisted directly into the sky? Lansi decided he didn't care to experience that particular nightmare a second time.
`[How about this instead?]` Seeing the little seagull fix him with a deeply "disappointed" glare, Lansi quickly pushed his massive suitcase forward. `[You can help me mail this suitcase to the shore first.]`
The seagull squinted at the massive piece of luggage, reluctantly agreeing to the terms: `[ACCEPTABLE. BUT YOUR LUGGAGE IS SEVERELY OVERWEIGHT. YOU MUST PAY AN EXTRA CHARGE.]`
The younger seagull brother stared down at the gargantuan suitcase, his wings twitching as he mentally calculated the sheer physical labor involved. He truly felt as though he was going to pay for this delivery with his life.