The Saralegui Army Port we arrived at a few days earlier, is still blanketed under a tense atmosphere. It’s different from the business ports here, all the vessels docked are navy ones, so the monotonous and dull colors can’t be helped.

But there is one particularly eye-catching s.h.i.+p.

“There wasn’t such a luxurious vessel before, huh.”

Waiting for us is the meticulously prepared, s.h.i.+ny sparkly golden Shou s.h.i.+maron royal s.h.i.+p.

The G.o.ddess statue praying for good luck on the helm of the s.h.i.+p us smiling gently, while there’s a s.h.i.+maron flag billowing on the tail end. The body of the s.h.i.+p is a shade of deep green that goes well with the waves, the windows and rims are hand-carved and inlaid with gold. If they unfurl the yellow and blue striped sail on the amber-like wooden mast, then this s.h.i.+p would surely be as beautiful as a b.u.t.terfly sailing on the seas. Another s.h.i.+p docked next to it looks real shaky, though, making the flags.h.i.+p all the more magnificent. Looks like the cargo s.h.i.+p is headed for Seisakoku too.

“We must come prepared with a variety of things when dealing with others.”

So, the cargo on that s.h.i.+p must be either bribes or presents? As expected from someone who graduated from the School of Kings, he thought of bringing gifts on a visit. That’s why he’s different from me, and knows how to prepare for every eventuality.

Walking up the long gangway ladder, I can’t help but be continuously in awe of the s.h.i.+p’s grandeur. All I’m doing is voicing my honest thoughts, and to Saralegui, that’s definitely not a displeasing thing.

“It’s so pretty—Does it have a name? Like SS The Queen or something?”

“‘The Golden Salmon’.”

“Ah?”

“It’s called ‘The Golden Salmon’, isn’t that a wonderful name?”

Golden salmons… To be honest I prefer red salmon, its natural enemy should be the bears around Alaska.

Just when everyone else is being led into the luxurious cabins, Lord Weller is the only one who politely declines boarding ‘The Golden Salmon’, choosing another mode of transportation on his own.

“I’ll just ride that cargo s.h.i.+p.”

“That one? But it’s already filled with cargo, and the feeling of sleeping on cargo can’t be good. Won’t it be more comfortable in the flags.h.i.+p?”

“I don’t mind about comfort during the journey, after all I’m neither royalty nor n.o.bility.”

The amba.s.sador from Dai s.h.i.+maron wordlessly heads toward the worn-out s.h.i.+p.

“…He’s weird, is it because he doesn’t want to ride on the same s.h.i.+p as us?”

His words have me suddenly breaking into a cold sweat, and I even think that he’s realized Lord Weller’s origins. Because Günter suddenly went crazy just now, Saralegui knows his nationality; but about his background, how much does Saralegui know?

“About that, I’m not so sure either.”

As we climb up the gangway side by side, Saralegui stares directly at me.

“Do you plan on starting this voyage dressed like that?”

Although it’s not unsanitary, but I’m still in a personal chef’s outfit. The long ap.r.o.n all the way to my calves may not be that convenient for walking, but it does help warm up my legs and knees.

“Sorry, I’m not wearing a tuxedo. If it were army uniforms, there should be suitable ones on our s.h.i.+p. But it’s all right if Wolfram was in uniform… Problem is, I’m not a soldier.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, it’s just that voyages on the sea tend to have temperamental weather, be it the wind or the strength of the sun, it’s all different from when we’re on land! That’s why, if it’s possible, it’s best to prepare a coat that can wrap up your entire body.”

But now there’s not much time left for Captain Sizemore, who’s docked on the opposite end of the jetty, to get a change of clothes. Actually I really want to go back to the s.h.i.+p and check up on Zeda and Zisha too, but since they say the high tide now is ideal for setting sail, the few of us who lack geological sense can only agree.

At this moment, Saralegui takes off his cloak, and shoves it at my chest.

“If it’s all right with you, wear this. It’s my usual cloak, and if you wear a hat with it then you can block out the wind completely. Since we’re not that different in size, I’m guessing it’ll fit just fine on you, and I have several more cloaks anyway.”

The light blue cloak he’s giving me is made of a s.h.i.+ny and smooth material, you can tell it’s quality goods just by touching it.

“Really? Geez! I keep making you worry about me!”

“I’m glad to be able to help you, y’know. c.r.a.p, sorry, Storob is calling me. We’re setting sail soon, can you board first and wait for me?”

Having been called by his soldier subordinate, Saralegui jogs back onto land. On the way he even turns back to look at me, a child’s smile on his face.

“Oh, yeah, Yuuri, before we leave the bay you can stand behind the helmsman and enjoy the view! When the front of the s.h.i.+p squeezes out of the narrow bay, that feeling of awe is something you never get tired of, I always stand at the back and watch!”

“Is that so—”

“And then we pop open some grape wine to toast the captain and the helmsman’s skills, that’s what we normally do on voyages.”

“I see—”

Although it’s a s.h.i.+p, but leaving the dock must be as tricky as an airplane taking off. Getting complimented as soon as the mission’s completed, must make the experts really happy. So this is how he captures his subordinates’ hearts! Who knew that staying by Saralegui’s side would help me discover so many things worthy of respect.

Lord von Bielefeld brushes against him as he leaves, frowning. He probably doesn’t think a trip for such an important reason isn’t worth being so happy about.

“Günter asked me to give this to you, it might not fit too well.”

Wolfram is also still wearing a kitchen apprentice’s clothes, and there’s a thick white jacket hanging on his arm. Be it the sleeves, the hems, or the decorations, everything is supersized.

“Oh! I don’t need this anymore. Just now Saralegui lent me his cloak. Besides our heights aren’t that different, the size should be a better fit than Günter’s clothes… Wanna see?”

Wolfram scrutinizes the cloak inside out, even bringing it to his nose, like a little rabbit sniffing at the fabric.

“Mm--”

“Wolf… What are you sniffing for! Saralegui did take a bath, you know!”

“Give this one to me.”

“Eh, why? He purposely lent this to me!”

I look the third son from top to bottom. He has a smooth face that has never gotten tan, and eyes as green as the bottom of a lake. Compared to me, whose constantly outdoors practicing, his skin is so white it looks like it can’t bear direct sunlight.

“…On second thought, it might be better if you wear it. Alright, mm, you take it, I planned on getting more sun anyway.”

Because he’s so fair, I ask him to put on his hat, and even help him to cover up all his golden hair. Now he looks just like a light blue weather doll, and I can’t help but laugh with a ‘pfffft’.

“How is it? What are you laughing at, Yuuri?”

“Because you’re super cute… No, I mean, it feels like the weather will get better. If we hang you up like a lucky item, the entire journey should be sunny!”

“You want to use me as a live sacrifice, and pray for a safe voyage?”

“Not a live sacrifice, weather dolls aren’t live sacrifices!”

Then I turn my back on a displeased-looking Wolfram, and run off to tour the number one battles.h.i.+p in Shou s.h.i.+maron. Logically speaking, the equipment and firepower of the main s.h.i.+p are top secret military information, but there’s no one on surveillance duty here at all, Saralegui really is a generous king.

“Wasei—There are even cannons, but why isn’t there any gunpowder…”

A young pa.s.sing crewman even tells me helpfully, that there’s a small scale catapult on board. Though they were our enemies twenty years ago, but in truth they are a bunch of friendly people.

The crew of ‘The Golden Salmon’ consists entirely out of Shou s.h.i.+maron soldiers. They’re wearing that familiar yellow and blue striped uniform. And they sport that even more familiar cropped ponytail. Everyone’s working hard and happily.

Just as everyone’s busily making preparations, Sunny[1] Wolfram walks over confidently. “Aren’t you cold? Either you get into the cabins or put on an extra layer, otherwise Günter will definitely pull you inside all nervous-like!”

“How is Günter? After losing to Conrad… Um—Is he very down?”

“Nah, he’s in a very good mood, in fact. Seems like it’s because you rushed up to protect him, and that makes him considerably happy.

“What, he sure recovers quickly!”

Wolfram rubs his frozen fingers hard, to get some temporary warmth. Maybe it’s because we’re by the water, so it’s fairly cold even though it’s not winter climate.

“He excitedly said that he’d come over as soon as he got his hands on the voyage map… Yuuri, I think it’s still better if we go in, right?”

But Saralegui said that before exiting the bay it’s best to stay on the deck and watch. And he said that the best position is behind the helmsman.

“He said watching the s.h.i.+p leave the bay from here gives an amazing sense of awe, and that it’s a tradition when setting sail, as well as a highlight. Since it’s such a rare chance, let’s just follow our senior’s suggestions.”

Just as I’m putting on the excessive jacket of Günter’s, the bra.s.s instrument instantly strikes up some loud music, like a s.h.i.+s.h.i.+-odos.h.i.+[2] that rang a few hundred times in quick succession. The people on the dock all look up, and watch the Shou s.h.i.+maron king’s flags.h.i.+p—‘The Golden Salmon’ depart with reverent gazes.

Leaving behind the ropes and the gangway ladder, the anchor is slowly pulled up, accompanied by a deep rumbling.

After the s.h.i.+p makes a simple and short glide on the water, it begins to flow with the current within the bay. At first, it’s towed by the manpower boat in front. Then, thanks to the adjusting valve set up in the bay, the helm of the s.h.i.+p is immediately turned to face the outer sea.

“Eh, is Saralegui on board already? Wasn’t he called back onto land by his subordinate just now? I was even worried he wouldn’t get back on time.”

“Come on. How could a s.h.i.+p leave without its master?”

“Oh, yeah. You’re right!”

‘The Golden Salmon’ moves with a smoothness bellying its large size, and begins to sail on the calm ocean surface. It’s not as simple as going with the flow, it takes skill from the helmsman to make the s.h.i.+p move from parking position to sailing in a straight line. From Wolfram and my position, we can see the miniscule movements of the s.h.i.+p’s wheel.

Behind us, is the tribute s.h.i.+p carrying Lord Weller and the cargo.

“That’s odd…”

“What’s up?”

I pull back my chilly fist to rub around my right eye. Because there’s a medium-sized s.h.i.+p approaching us from directly ahead in the bay.

“Is it just me, or… no, it shouldn’t be. I say, Mr Helmsman. That dark brown s.h.i.+p seems to be coming right at us.”

“It’s not just you. But, please don’t worry, there’s still a distance between us. Though it is odd that the first mate hasn’t issued a warning…”

The middle-aged helmsman sounds very serious. Technically the first mate should be at an even higher position than the s.h.i.+p bridge, and should have made a warning upon discovering an obstruction ahead.

I help the helmsman peek at the position of the soldier with this duty, but all I see is a bulging yellow cloth.

“A human? Is that a human? It should be a sleeping or fainted thing instead, right?”

But the una.s.suming medium-sized s.h.i.+p is still headed straight towards us at top speed, the distance between the s.h.i.+ps now close enough for us to discern each other’s armaments with the naked eye. Based on s.h.i.+n Makoku’s navy, that would be a medium-level patrol s.h.i.+p. Standing in rows on the deck are people wearing the same uniform as ‘The Golden Salmon’, and a few sentinels are clinging tightly onto the mast that’s currently lowering the sail.

This is bad. We’re not filming ‘Speed 2: Cruise Control’ here, it looks like the other party is serious, and the situation is dire.

“Waa—Brake! Mr Driver, quickly, braake!”

“Calm down, Yuuri.”

Just when I’m thinking ‘we’re gonna crash’ and shut my eyes, bracing for impact, the body of the s.h.i.+p finally starts turning right. Turns out the helmsman had long since turned the wheel to make the helm change direction, but the patrol s.h.i.+p coming straight for us doesn’t plan on turning. Since we’d turned right to avoid them, now all we can do is face them with the side of the s.h.i.+p.

“That s.h.i.+p plans on coming straight at us!”

“Hold on tight, keep low, and make sure to grab onto something!”

Amidst the panic on the s.h.i.+p, a loud and clear man’s voice yells several times.

“They’re coming! Everyone, hold on--”

Wolfram and I immediately hit the deck. Just then, there’s a dropping tremor just like an earthquake, making our shoulder knock together. It’s the impact from the medium-sized s.h.i.+p cras.h.i.+ng into the dark green belly of ‘The Golden Salmon’. And then there’s a shaking from left to right, increasing in intensity, until the sound of breaking wood brings the scene to a climax.

The amber mast tilts as the belly of the s.h.i.+p fills up with water.

“What’s going on?”

“I was gonna ask you! Why would a patrol s.h.i.+p that also belongs to Shou s.h.i.+maron crash into the king’s flags.h.i.+p? Mr Helmsman, hey—My Helmsman… but after such a crush, I guess even the rudder has been destroyed.”

The s.h.i.+p’s wheel has long since broken apart, and a huge hole has also been blasted into the entrance into the cargo bay just ahead. To successfully get up on the deck that’s now so slanted it’s hard to walk, we hook onto each other’s arms for support. Finally, we manage to get onto out feet.

Soldiers are running up and down all around us. Some are busy grabbing swords, some are raising their arms and directing others, some are running everywhere with buckets of water. Buckets of water?

“Your Majesty, you’re all right… Yahoo!”

Günter runs over, stumbling. Waves beat on the slanted deck, making movement even more difficult, and finally he accidentally steps on the hem of his robes and falls flat on his back. Tries to get up, and falls back down! Now bent over, he stares at his palm, and suddenly the super bis.h.i.+e’s expression changes drastically.

“This isn’t water, it’s oil! Oil’s flowing in!”

I stare at the top part of the slant, and see a man kicking down barrel after wooden barrel. It was the young soldier who had told me about the cannon and the catapult at the jetty, and now he’s raising his fist high, excitedly singing goodness knows what.

“…Why?”

Hearing the sound of the thick metal cable being hacked apart, I feel the air flowing strangely. It’s a wind carrying the pressure of intense heat, and not the naturally calm air.

“Günter! Take it off, take off your clothes!”

“W-what? Y-Your Majesty, don’t tell me you want do that kind of thing in this kind of place?”

Günter covers his chest with his hands. You’re already so old, there shouldn’t be anything to be ashamed of.

“Take it off now! Otherwise it’ll burn, it’ll ignite a fire!”

The bright red fireball in midair is cutting a curve as it approaches us.

That’s not majutsu or houjutsu. Over a hundred flaming arrows descend from the sky, rapidly igniting the oil on the deck, plunging the entire s.h.i.+p into a sea of scarlet flames.

The old soldier cries out, almost in agony. As for the younger soldiers with the shorter ponytails, they’re singing a certain man’s name.

“It’s Maxine, Maxine’s here--!”

“Master Maxine is finally here!”

…What about Crop Pony?

The weird thing is that medium-sized s.h.i.+p’s crew isn’t trying to board our s.h.i.+p. They’ve already made such a daring a.s.sault on the flags.h.i.+p, but now they’re not moving into a close quarter battle, what’s the meaning of this?

“Are you all right over there, Günter?”

Wolfram grabs my s.h.i.+rt tightly with one hand, clapping his mouth with the other.

“Y-you’re seriously taking it off?”

The super bis.h.i.+e is stripping his clothes off one by one, and doing it with gusto.

“Why would you say so? I’m always serious! Just like in my dictionary, ‘serious’ is p.r.o.nounced MAZO (as in masochism)! That’s what His Majesty taught me! Wolfram, protect His Majesty before I get to his side. Your Majesty, Sizemore is on his way right now, before he gets here, please try not to fall into the sea…”

Oh, yeah, s.h.i.+n Makoku’s pride and joy ‘Friends on the Sea’ was also docked in the Saralegui War Port. Once they see this huge fire, Captain Sizemore would definitely rush right over. It’s just a fire, putting it out would be a piece of cake, there’s no need at all for my super Maou mode…

“That’s right, after all he is the hero of the sea and the evening sea monster, Sizemore, right…”

At first I’d planned to drag out that last sound up a pitch, so I can get Wolfram’s approval. But before the final sound reaches my lips from my throat, my breath stops.

A black line is aiming for my forehead.

If I measure the time with my G-SHOCK, it wouldn’t be even one second. But it seems like an old recording out on slow-motion, slowly slicing through the air as it approaches me.

I thought I’d get hit; I thought the bullet that wasn’t supposed to exist would go straight through my forehead, so I waited to be impaled without moving a muscle.

I thought it was aimed for me.

But—

What follows is a sound like that of sticking a bat into the sand of a beach, a sound that is incredibly hard to describe.

It’s not a shot, or the sound of metal destroying bone, pa.s.sing through flesh and blood. It’s not the sound of blood spraying either.

There’s no sign of a shot anywhere on my body.

But in the corner of my left eye, there suddenly a flash of aqua blue.

“…Wolf?”

The hand that was grabbing me so tightly suddenly lets go, and the body next to mine slowly falls forward.

“Wolf?”

His back is slowly approaching the flaming floorboards.

“Wolf? Wolf! Wolfram!”

There’s a metal arrow sticking out of the middle of his chest, slightly to the left.

“How can this be…? Wolfram…? What to do, what should I do…”

“…careful… ahead…”

He barely lifts his hand, pointing at the mast of a middle-sized s.h.i.+p. Even though his hand immediately falls back down powerlessly, but I see the man wielding the bow there cutting the rope that tied him to the mast with a small knife after his job is done.

So it was from that height and that distance that he attacked.

Although it doesn’t sound too possible, but I saw his face, or at least I think I saw it. Because all I saw was an ugly sanpaku[3], but I didn’t see his eye color or appearance.

Surprisingly, I’m not at all angry, just s.h.i.+vering uncontrollably in fear of losing.

“Is it that man?”

I lay Wolf down on my knees, and lie over his body, putting my ear closer.

It’s okay, he’s still breathing! There’s still breathing.

“…Ki…nan…”

“Eh, what? What are you talking about, I can’t hear you? Can this be pulled out? Can I pull the arrow out?”

The tail of the arrow has brown and white stripes. Although we’re in a huge blazing fire, but the metal arrow feels exceptionally cold, and the light blue cloak is free of blood stains. But if I simply try to pull it out, there’s a high possibility of extreme blood loss, that might end up threatening his life instead.

Wolfram gasps for breath. But his face, contorted in pain from lack of air, is slowly becoming as white as paper.

“…What to do… Someone call the doctor quick… Günter! Günter!”

But at this time Günter just has to be hidden from sight by a wall of flames.

I hold my hand out to the arrow tail, asking if I can do anything. But at the same time I’m scared that just the lightest touch will cause his already shallow breathing to instantly stop.

“Wolf, don’t do this! Stop joking around… At a time like this, don’t do this to me…”

Isn’t maryoku meant for moments like this? That unexplainable power of mine, doesn’t it exist so that I can save him?

Quick, concentrate, forget about the commotion around you!

I start imagining Wolfram’s wound, ready to slowly accept his pain. I feel the blood flowing in my hands, my shoulders and my chest, then I adjust my heartbeat to follow his.

Just opening my eyes isn’t enough. So I use the warmth and pulse travelling through my fingertips, to feel the weak flow of his blood.

At this moment even my breathing starts slowing down, the two of us seem to be separated from the rest of the world by a thin veil, even the heat from the fire is gone.

“…W-Wolf…!”

Lord von Bielefeld releases a heavy breath, and then his whole head loses its strength. The face and eyes that were twitching with pain gradually stop moving, the labored breathing from his mouth becoming inaudible.

But my hand and heart feel no pain.

“Wolf! Wait! What is this? Why can’t I feel your pain, and the flow of your blood? Hey, answer me! Say something! Come on, call me a wimp, I don’t mind no matter how much you scold me! Quick, call me a wimp!”

I want to lift my hands from my knees and grab his shoulders, shake him, but then my gaze falls to the ground in front of me, to the blood stained army boots on the flaming floor.

“Who--!”

I wanted to yell ‘who’s there!’, but I swallow my words back down.

“How did this happen? That cloak… wasn’t that meant to be worn by the king?”

The pale drawn face is tinted red by the flames. I stare at those thin single eyelids, and that man is staring back at us. That familiar deep brown hair of his is a little messy sticking to his forehead.

“…Nigel Weiss Maxine!”

I’ll never forget your face for the rest of my life!

And I’ll never forgive you till the day I die!

“It’s you!”

By now my surroundings turn a pure white, not the red of fire and not the grey of smoke.

I feel like I’m alone in a valley with a blizzard, snow being blown around by the wind behind my back.

And there’s not even a hint of heat, I guess I wouldn’t even know if my body was burning up. Even though I’m being cut by the white surroundings and cold ice, all I get are wounds that don’t bleed.

I don’t want to wait for anyone’s guidance anymore.

Even if I don’t hear that certain someone’s voice, it doesn’t matter; even though he’s not there behind me to push me on, it doesn’t matter. I just want to use my own power, for that burning rage within my heart.

“How could you have done something like…!”

I swing my tightly-clenched fist at my target.

“Nigel Weiss… Maxine!”

My tone is weird and almost indistinguishable, the nerves connecting the cells in my brain suddenly alight with sparks.

“To get revenge for the king of Shou s.h.i.+maron’s att.i.tude, thou actually led your men into a rebellion, thy nerve is inexcusable! In this ever changing world, the people can’t differentiate between the greater good and their personal needs, even a hemiptera [4] can’t help but issue a warning!”

“……Y-you’re still saying such random things.”

The cropped-pony takes a few steps back in an instant.

Employing the part of my brain I rarely use I continue to spout lines that sound like they come from a historical drama.

“And today we have become angered to the limit! Really really MAX-IMUM! Use your body to experience the killing move released after my energy has been charged to 120%...... Mmph!”

“Stop fooling around, Yuuri! I already told you not to use magic on human soil, how many times do I need to repeat myself for you to understand!”

Wolfram, whose breathing had returned to normal, punches down hard on super-Maou mode Yuuri’s head.

"How is this possible? Puu[5] you, weren"t you dead?"

“Don’t even try simply cursing me to death, I was just winded by the impact! We aren’t even married yet, how can I die!”

No wonder even Yuuri couldn’t heal his wound.

“Who knew you can be so active even with an arrow sticking out of your chest, don’t tell me you have the blood of an Arrow Mazoku… Ohhhhh, it’s pretty exciting to discover another new life form!”

“Of course not!”

Lord von Bielefeld holds the arrow he pulled out with one hand, and reaches into his jacket with his right. There’s a deep hole through the thick Collector’s Edition novel.

“See, the Poison Lady saved my life. Although I forgot to leave it in the hotel to spread the teachings, but this is the ma.s.s-produced version of the Poison Lady available for every household, never forget to bring it out with you wherever you go.”

Maxine is so surprised he looks a little awed.

“That’s some luck—Puhaa!”

Maxine, who seems to have clean forgotten his position as leader of the rebellion and is calmly rubbing his chin, suddenly flies out from an impact to his back. As a result, he doesn’t even get the chance to grab on to the railings, falling headfirst into the sea.

“Wuooooooooooooooooooooo--!”

A wail of regret is followed by a high end-note.

The wall of fire disappears in an instant, and in its place appears Günter, on one knee and in nothing but his underwear, the cylinder in his arms spewing copious amounts of white foam.

“Aiya, I put the fire out.”

“Hmm… Yup… So to replace the outdated WATER BOYS[6], the FIRE BOYS protect the people of the world from fires… but whether it’s cuttlefish or octopus, you’re already so old, calling yourself a BOY would be too funny… So why don’t we make it that from today onwards it’ll be called the FIRE OLD BOYS…”

“Snap out of it, Yuuri! Turn back into your wimpy self now!”

However, perhaps due to the fact I never got to use my powers, I am stuck in the super Maou mode. Even though he grabs the collar of my chef’s outfit, all I can do is cough.

“*cough* It’s decided! *cough* No objections!”

Impatient Wolfram uses a tone that would have made the usual s.h.i.+buya Yuuri write the alphabet in miniature under the tennis court with his tears, threatening:

“If you don’t revert back to normal I’ll use the prince’s kiss to wake you up!”

“Today’s method of awakening…… Phoosh…”

The sound of air deflating is emitted from my nose and ears, and my raised eyebrows successfully return to their original position. And so the authoritative pomp young general turns back into the average baseball boy.

“Hey, wait. So you hate kissing me so much? If so, I’ll feel a little hurt.”

“What are you talking about, Wolfram? Of course His Majesty doesn’t like kissing you!”

Günter throws down the fire-extinguis.h.i.+ng cylinder, s.n.a.t.c.hing Yuuri from the former prince’s clutches.

“…Eh… Wolf… Why are you suddenly okay…Wah—Günter, why are you naked--?”

“Aaah, Your Majesty noticed? Please, don’t worry, I, Günter von Christ, left the last piece out of gentlemanly manners. Of course, this is all for Your Majesty…”

“If it’s for me then don’t wear those s.e.xy G-strings, wear trunks!”

“G-strings? [7] Trunks[8]? Do both these proper nouns refer to men?”

Even though he was just in a life-and-death situation, but his ability to create bad jokes with his misunderstandings hasn’t been affected in the slightest.

“They’re men’s, all right! But it isn’t h.o.m.o, it’s G-strings!”

The boat suddenly begins to tilt, and the soldiers start yelling.