Anyone But Him
The flare shot into the sky with a pop, exploding into a shower of glittering pink hearts. Lucas cringed as the shimmering debris rained down on his ship.
"Subtle," he muttered.
Global Chat erupted instantly:
[TinCanTony]: Who the hell just fired a Valentine's grenade?!
[Breadbasket]: It's the guy with the pink ship! Check the map!
[GunNut]: LOL. Bro's out here roleplaying Cupid while the rest of us are fighting sea monsters.
[SaltQueen]: Men with "harem ships" deserve the Black Mist.
Lucas' cheeks burned as he watched the chat scroll. A mini-map in his journal showed blinking dots converging toward his location—five ships, some fast, some slow.
He gripped the lyre, its golden surface slick with his sweat.
Just don't let them think you're a creep. Explain the system. Offer… something.
The first ship arrived in ten minutes—a jagged raft made of obsidian shards.
A girl in a leather trench coat stood at the helm, dual pistols strapped to her thighs. Her hair was shaved on one side, the other dyed neon green.
She squinted at the Love Siren's lace bra crow's nest and shouted, "Is this a joke?"
Lucas waved awkwardly. "I can explain! My ship's system requires—"
She fired a warning shot past his ear. "Save it. I'd rather drink seawater than join your floating brothel."
Her raft sped away, kicking up black spray.
The next arrival was worse—a floating library with stained-glass windows. A bookish girl peered out, adjusting her round glasses.
"Um… does your ship actually have a functional galley? Or is it all… this?" She gestured at the heart-shaped portholes.
"It's not my fault!" Lucas said, desperation cracking his voice. "The system forces me to recruit crewmates with… uh, affection. But I've got supplies! Well, potential supplies. If you just—"
The girl's eyes widened.
"Affection? So it's not a teamwork thing? It's a dating thing?"
She slammed her window shut. Her ship veered sharply left, almost capsizing in its hurry to escape.
By the fourth ship—a submarine piloted by a girl in a lab coat who called him a "hormonal landfill"—Lucas stopped trying to explain.
He sat on the deck, head in hands, as Global Chat roasted him alive:
[JungleJane]: PSA: The pink ship's a trap! Captain's a lonely dude with a "harem quest."
[DeepDiver]: Sanity Tip: Avoid Love Siren. My raven says it's cursed.
[Breadbasket]: Anyone else kinda feel bad for him?
[GunNut]: NO.
Lucas' screen flashed red:
[Ship Durability: 190/200]
[Damage: -10 (Black Mist Proximity Stress)]
The dark horizon churned, the Mist now a jagged wall of shadow. It'd gained a mile while he'd been humiliated. His disintegration timer ticked down:
[01:47:32]
His stomach growled.
Hunger: 63/100.
Thirst: 55/100.
Sanity: 75/100 (thanks, Global Chat).
"Think," he hissed.
The journal said Affection × Ship Level × Resources generated supplies. But with zero girls, he had nothing.
He stared at the lyre. What if I… perform?
Hesitantly, he plucked a string. The note echoed, sweet and clear. A status popped up:
[Cupid's Lyre Activated!]
[Current Audience: 0. Affection Boost: 0%]
"Worthless," he muttered.
[Global Chat]
[SaltQueen]: Update: Black Mist speeds up when it smells fear. Run faster, losers.
[DocHorror]: Confirmed. Panic = Mist turbo. Keep sanity above 20!
Lucas snapped the journal shut.
They're all scared. Just like me. But they'd rather laugh at my ship than admit it.
He stood.
They thought he couldn't salvage this? Fine. But the moment he thought he was doomed, then he'd be doomed for real.
He'd own the pink. Own the lyre. Own the humiliation.
He opened Global Chat and typed:
[LoveSiren]: Yeah, my ship's pink. Yeah, it's a romance sim nightmare. But none of us chose this. You got battleships? Dragons? Cool. I got a harp and a dying wedding cake. But I'm not waiting for the Mist to eat me. If I sink, I sink fighting. Anybody else tired of whining?
The chat froze. Then:
[Breadbasket]: …Kinda badass?
[TinCanTony]: "I sink fighting" – cringe. But respect.
[GunNut]: Skill issue.
[SaltQueen]: You'll still die.
A new message flashed, this time in bold gold text:
[System Alert: Hidden Talent Unlocked!]
["Ironheart Charisma"]
[Current Level: D]
[Experience: 1/10]
[Effect: Courage attracts potential female crewmates! Charisma +2]
The fear that had choked him earlier felt relieved, replaced by a strange calm. It felt like an adrenaline rush after deciding to jump off a cliff.
Lucas stood at the bow of the Love Siren. The Black Mist loomed behind him, but he refused to look back.
Instead, he plucked a random string on the lyre.
The note rang out, clear and bright, even as the system message flashed:
[Cupid's Lyre Activated!]
[Current Audience: 0. Affection Boost: 0%]
"Still zero. Big surprise," he muttered. He played another note, then another, fingers stumbling over the strings. The melody was clumsy, off-key, but it didn't matter.
The Global Chat buzzed in his peripheral vision:
[GunNut]: Bro's serenading the Mist now.
[Breadbasket]: …Anyone else hear that song? It's kinda catchy?
He gripped the lyre tighter and played louder, drowning out the whispers of the Mist. The pink sails billowed overhead, the embroidered roses catching the sunlight.
Fine, he thought. If this ship's gonna be a joke, I'll be the punchline. But I'm not stopping.
Meanwhile, 2 Miles Northeast…
Aria's hands blistered as she paddled. The raft—a patchwork of broken planks and seaweed—dug into her knees. Her throat burned.
Her ship, the Lotus, had been a sleek, modern sailboat with solar-powered engines… until the tentacles rose.
One minute, she was charting a course. The next…
She shuddered, remembering the suckers, the teeth, the eye the size of a truck tire rising from the depths. Her crew—three NPC sailors generated by her ship's system—had vanished into the creature's maw.
She'd barely escaped on this raft, her survival kit down to half a canteen, a protein bar and a half box of matches.
[Status]
Hunger: 41/100
Thirst: 33/100
Sanity: 58/100
Aria squinted at the horizon.
The Black Mist slithered in the distance, but closer, she spotted a…
Pink blur?
She pulled out her binoculars (cracked, salvaged from the wreck) and gasped.
A ship.
Gaudy pink sails, lace trim, a crow's nest shaped like—is that a bra?
Her stomach dropped. The Love Siren. Global Chat's laughingstock.
The "harem ship" captain everyone mocked.
No. Anyone but him.
But the Mist crept closer, and her canteen was almost empty.
She checked her map. No other ships in range.
"Just my luck," she growled. Her voice was hoarse.
Aria tugged off her leather gloves, revealing calloused hands. Her cargo pants were torn at the knees, her soaked tank top clinging to her full chest.
Even in survival mode, her curves demanded attention - round hips, a waist that dipped inward, and breasts that strained against the thin fabric with every stroke.
But right now, she just looked like a shipwreck survivor.
She dipped her hand in the water, splashing her face.
Get it together. You either board that floating joke or become Mist chow.
Back on the Love Siren, Luca's fingers froze mid-strum.
A notification blinked:
[New Potential Crewmate Detected!]
[Distance: 800 meters and closing.]
[System Note: Subject possesses rare "Hourglass" physique. High compatibility with Harem Ship synergies. Recommend immediate recruitment.]