How Not to Cross a Salt Lake #33

The journey across the salt lake was going about as well as anyone could expect for two morons with a vendetta against balance.

Poqin stood on his bamboo pole, rowing with slow, lazy strokes like he was cruising through a Sunday market.

Meanwhile, Gale had given up on standing. He was lying flat on his stomach across his own bamboo, paddling with his hands like a particularly angry sea turtle.

"Y'know," Poqin called over, smirking, "you look real majestic there. Like a drowned rat trying to do synchronized swimming."

Gale blew a salty splash out of his mouth. "And you look like a scarecrow on vacation. Should I clap when you inevitably faceplant?"

They were just getting into a solid rhythm of trading insults when the water near Poqin erupted.

A giant yellow paw — bigger than a wagon wheel — burst from the depths with a wet whoosh, swiping straight at Poqin.

Poqin yelped and twisted aside just in time, but the paw smashed into his bamboo, snapping it cleanly in two like a breadstick. He barely managed to leap clear, landing in a squatting heap on Gale's still-intact bamboo.

They both stared at the water, wide-eyed.

The paw retracted below the surface for a moment — and then, rising up like the world's happiest sea monster, came the massive face of a golden retriever.

Its tongue lolled out one side of its mouth, its wet fur gleamed in the sun, and its giant watery eyes blinked at them with pure, dumb affection.

Gale blinked back, completely thrown. "I didn't know sea beasts came in the good boy variety."

Poqin didn't seem charmed. He jabbed a thumb toward the floating wreckage of his bamboo. "There's nothing 'good' about that thing. It just wrecked my ride!"

Gale shrugged, deadpan. "Exactly why it's a good boy. He's doing his job. No trespassers."

Poqin opened his mouth to retort — because of course he did — but before either of them could get properly back into it, the golden sea retriever barked (which sounded more like a mini tsunami) and took another swat.

This time at their bamboo.

Gale's eyes widened. "Oh, son of a—"

The bamboo exploded under the swipe, splitting apart in two perfect halves, each half drifting away mournfully like pieces of their dignity.

Both Gale and Poqin, already mid-argument, were launched into the air like popcorn kernels out of a fire.

In the split second of freefall, they locked eyes, communicating the most important message two idiots could in a crisis:

Plan B.

Without a word, Poqin shifted mid-air into a tight dive, cutting cleanly toward the water.

Meanwhile, Gale clenched his teeth, focusing hard. He decreased the density of his entire body — bones, skin, blood — but kept his muscles dense enough to not instantly collapse like a jellyfish.

The moment his foot touched the water's surface, he stepped.

Not sank, but stepped — launching himself forward like a skipping stone powered by sheer stubbornness and questionable decision-making skills.

Time to go say hi to the "good boy."

Gale grinned wildly as he sprinted toward the golden retriever sea beast, saltwater spraying up behind each step.

Worst case, he gets licked to death. Honestly? Not even the worst way to go.

Gale surged across the water, each step sending up a splash of salt and foam as he closed in on the giant golden retriever sea beast. The thing looked like it was having the time of its life, tongue lolling, big dumb eyes shining—completely unaware that its playdate was about to turn into a lesson.

With a grunt, Gale lunged high into the air, cocking his fist back. He compressed the density of his hand until it felt like a cannonball strapped to his wrist. He didn't really want to hurt the big guy—seriously, how could you punch that face and still sleep at night?—but he wasn't about to let it think it could get away with smacking people around like chew toys either.

Just a light tap... one that'll make him think twice before swatting at strangers, Gale thought grimly.

Unfortunately for him, the sea beast wasn't as dim as its golden retriever smile suggested. It caught on to Gale's plan, lifting one massive, dripping paw into the air, ready to swat him out of the sky like a really annoying mosquito.

Gale, to his credit, didn't panic. He just kept cranking up the density of his fist, trusting in the real secret weapon—Poqin.

Underneath the surface, he could see the faint silhouette of the monk, moving at high speed, spinning like a human drill bit through the clear saltwater. Gale fought the urge to smirk.

There we go. Go get 'im, you soggy maniac.

Poqin reached the base of the sea beast's massive, fish-like tail and grabbed hold with both hands. With a powerful yank, he pulled downward just as the giant paw swung.

The timing was perfect.

The sea beast's balance shifted, and the swat missed Gale by a good couple of meters, the air from the swipe ruffling his hair but otherwise leaving him untouched.

"Who's the good boy now?" Gale muttered under his breath, as gravity delivered him right above the beast's head.

With a mighty grunt, Gale brought his heavy fist crashing down onto the top of the creature's skull.

A loud, hollow THUD echoed across the salt lake, followed by an even louder YELP that sent a flock of startled seabirds flapping into the sky.

The beast's entire body bobbed violently in the water like a struck buoy, sending ripples out for dozens of meters.

...

One day later…

The journey was way smoother now that they were riding an actual living creature instead of trying to balance on glorified grass sticks.

Gale sat cross-legged atop the golden retriever sea beast's enormous, fluffy head, lazily munching on a salted fruit he barely managed to hide from Poqin.

Beside him, the monk sat equally relaxed, casually scratching behind the beast's ear—which made it kick its giant back leg (tail? fin?) in the water like an oversized puppy.

Between them, cartoonishly obvious against the sun-bleached fur, sat a single, massive, purple bump. It throbbed faintly, almost comically.

Gale glanced at it every now and then and snickered.

"Y'know," Gale said, tossing a fruit pit into the water, "I think this counts as the weirdest boat I'll even be on. Even a pirate ship that runs entirely on farts won't top it."

Poqin grunted, shifting his weight. "You say that like this is the weirdest part of your life, Mr. He Who Runs On Water...."

"Point taken."

They'd already run into all sorts of salt lake monsters over the past day—slimy fish with too many teeth, giant chicken with forked tongues, but none of them dared come near after seeing the giant golden retriever sea beast joyfully paddling along with two smug idiots on its head.

The salty breeze was fresh, the sun was warm, and, best of all, the shoreline of the islet was finally coming into view.

Gale had precisely one second of peace before he ruined everything.

"What could go wrong?"

As soon as the thought formed, his expression twisted into sheer panic.

No. No. I take it back. I TAKE IT BACK.

But the universe was already reaching for the Uno Reverse card.

The golden retriever sea beast abruptly halted in the water, ears flattening as it let out a high-pitched whimper.

"What's going on?" Poqin asked, shifting slightly.

Gale didn't answer.

Because he knew.

Because this was his fault.

Frantically, he scanned the water, his gut churning with the unmistakable sensation of Incoming Bullshit™.

Then he saw it.

A pair of massive, grotesquely bulging compound eyes protruded from the water, supported by two thick, purple stalks that pulsed slightly—like something breathing.

A moment later, the rest of it emerged.

And Gale really wished it hadn't.

A mantis shrimp sea king.

It was the size of a goddamn galley.

Its chitinous exoskeleton gleamed in iridescent blues, greens, and reds, like a nightmare turned into modern art. Its front half was bulky, with armored plates overlapping each other like the hull of a warship, but it was the claws that made Gale's blood turn cold.

Two enormous, club-like appendages hung at the front of its body, twitching just slightly—like an executioner sharpening an axe.

Its shell, its stance, the way it barely moved—everything about it screamed: apex predator.

"Damn," Poqin muttered. "That is one ugly thing."

Gale, on the other hand, had no time for jokes.

His blood ran cold as his past life knowledge came surging back in a moment of pure horror.

He remembered watching a video about these things—back when they were the size of a thumb. Even at that size, they were fast enough to generate cavitation bubbles—tiny shockwaves strong enough to boil the water around them just from the speed of their punch.

Their strikes moved so fast they created bursts of light, for god's sake.

And now…

This thing was as big as a ship.

Just how strong was it?

Before Gale could even process that question, the golden retriever sea beast—their once-proud steed, their loyal companion, their trusted battle mount—

Turned. Tail. And Fled.

One second, they were riding comfortably.

The next—SPLASH!

It dipped straight into the water, vanishing with all the speed of a criminal skipping bail.

Poqin and Gale were unceremoniously dumped into the lake, left floating in silence.

For a moment, they just bobbed there, watching their ride desert them like an unpaid bar tab.

Gale was the first to break the silence.

"…Did our sea beast just—"

"Yes."

"Did it—"

"Yes."

"Did it just—"

"Yes, Gale." Poqin turned his head to look at him. "It ran away like a little bitch."

Gale swallowed hard, tilting his head back toward the towering mantis shrimp sea king, who was still just watching them.

It hadn't moved.

Yet.

"…Poqin?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it really so bad being a little bitch...?"

"Yeah."

A long pause.

"…damn it..."

...

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