Father Peter sat among the fishermen of Poseidon in small boats, carrying two or three strong, water-savvy young men, and Father Peter sat in the midst of them, and Mayare, who wore only a pair of underpants, was surrounded by them in the bow of the boat, he was not tied, his fat hands rested peacefully on his knees, and his hair was tied tightly to his forehead and cheeks. His face was very bad, yellow and white, covered with small bumps, bulging lips like a model made of rubber, a red nose, and two loose eye bags dangling like the rufang of a ninety-year-old woman's folds of skin under the cascading lower eyelids. In short, the heir of the once high-spirited and vigorous "Tang" is now reminiscent of his previous identity and status, only those dark eyes, those eyes are dripping and rolling in the sockets, as always, with the indifference and coldness of lizard-like creatures, and the smell of unwillingness and viciousness can be smelled even from a mile away.

Someone handed a sealed bottle of Scarteldon sparkling mineral water, Meyare's favorite brand, a self-evident hint, Meyare hesitated for a moment, took it and unscrewed the lid and drank.

Then he was given bread, and Meyare ate it.

The sea was silent, save for the "poof" of oars inserted into the water, and the sound of Mayare eating and drinking.

By the time the last loaf of bread was swallowed down its throat, the slender and eerie shelf of Christ could already be clearly seen, although the light morning mist still enveloped it firmly - a black tern landed on a horizontal bar symbolizing love, meticulously arranging its feathers, and the person in charge of the oars swung vigorously in an attempt to scare it away, but the small bird only raised its head and stared indifferently at the approaching human, its eyes were red.

The fishermen immediately lowered their heads and drew crosses on their chests, and in the various legends of Poseidon Island, only seabirds that have eaten the corpses floating on the surface of the sea have red eyes, like ghouls wandering in the cemetery, they are the servants and eyes and ears of the devil.

"It's so unlucky." A man whispered that this was an out-and-out bad omen, and he raised his eyelids to look at Mayare sitting in the bow of the boat, a daring murderer, murderer, traitor, but at this time he had to admire the courage of this guy, if it was him, maybe he would have been so frightened that he would have peed his pants by now.

The tern waited until people were close enough to reach its distance almost as soon as they reached out before lazily flapping their wings and flying away. The two lads kissed the cross and the Bible that Father Peter had brought with them, and turned over and went into the water, first pulling down the rope that was fastened to the bow ring and wrapping it around the cross of Christ, so that the boat would not be swept away by the tide in the next way, and then Mayare, who had done a little warm-up exercise, jumped out of the boat with the help of the other two, and the water was still a little cold in the morning, and he shivered, but soon stepped on the water familiarly, and let himself float on the water, and the two young men who had entered the water earlier grabbed one end of his shoulderand bring him to the cross of Christ.

The sea water reached only under the crossbars of Christ's cross, and Father Peter threw steel chains and locks from the boat, and the crossbars of Christ's cross and the vertical stakes had holes in the appropriate places, and simply passing the chains through them could bind a man firmly to this terrible torture rack.

Father Peter supervised them in all their work, and when the lads were in the boat, he also went into the water - the foot-length vestments were as cumbersome and cumbersome in the sea as horsetail seaweed, and he had only one foot and the other hand holding the Bible and the cross high, which made it difficult for him to move in the water, but fortunately there was a rope that connected the torture rack and the boat, and Father Peter slowly approached Mayare along the rope until the two men were "face to face" as they literally suggested.

"Do you repent?" Father Peter asked breathlessly.

"Yes," he replied in a sinister voice, "I repent." ”

"The Lord has forgiven you all your sins." Father Peter said that he also looked at Mayare, and after a few seconds he extended his hand to the child, who could also be said to have grown up, with a complicated expression, and asked him to kiss the Bible and the cross. During this time, Father Peter's fingers touched Meyare's forehead, which had been anointed with holy oil in advance, and it was smooth and cold.

Father Peter suddenly felt cold, and he asked the men in the boat to pull him up, and the young men who had just boarded the boat leaned down and untied the rope from the bow hoop—according to the tradition of Poseidon Island, the rope that had been wrapped around the cross of Christ was unlucky and had to be left in place until the sea had corroded it. It writhed like a sea serpent and fell into the dark blue sea—the water was bottomless, and people avoided their gaze as if they had avoided some terrible omen, from the end of the rope.

The oars were lowered and raised again, and the boat sped away from Christ's cross and the people on it.

"It's too cold," said Father Peter, "has anyone brought wine?" "The paddlers brought a bottle of locally produced wine and cheese with them, passed them one by one, and after two rounds, they finally felt better.

The sky was shining, and by the time they got back to shore, the sun had become unusually bright, and the sea seemed to be coated with a layer of gold and diamond powder, so bright that it was too bright to look at, and the salty sea breeze blowing through his body was warm and soft, and Father Peter was barefoot on the beach, the tiny fragments of shells embedded in the thick calluses of the soles of his feet.

The boys towed the boat ashore and did not go home for a while, a makeshift seaside hut stocked with wine, meat and bread, as well as poker and music tapes for them to spend the next few hours.

They had to wait until the tide had passed, go to Christ's Cross to see the results, and then bring the living people or corpses back to Poseidon Island.

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing." Father Peter withdrew his gaze from the distance: "Fledglings," he said, holding up two fingers, "just two chicks." ”

Fledglings that are fledgling, but are already stumbling, constantly flapping their wings, wanting to fly high in the sky.

***

Sasha climbed up the cliff by the sea with Beelzebub.

The edge of Poseidon Island is densely covered with such cliffs, it was originally a whole boulder, but for thousands of years, day after night, the sea has been pounding and lapping its waters, slowly and persistently, emptying its feet, belly, and chest with the utmost patience, and now it stretches out its huge beak like a petrified giant eagle between the sea and the sky, and Sasha and Beelzebub sit shoulder to shoulder on the tip of the beak, like two grass seeds stuck to it.

From here, you can see the cross of Christ.

Sasha and Beelzebub were both very strong, they could see Mayare, recognize his expression, and the two fists that clenched from time to time, the sea continued to rise, the water was pushed by the tide, splashing on his face, he closed his eyes, and white foam remained from the tip of his nose. Thick lips squirmed, as if in prayer or curse.

"Do you think he's going to die?"

"It's hard to say." Sasha replied, "This is a judgment that only God can make, and isn't that what Christ's cross was all about?" ”

The companion's perfunctory response was exchanged for a sad and helpless glance at Beelzebub.

"But someone doesn't want him dead." Sasha continued, saying that Mayare, who had been convicted of a crime—yes, his greatest fault was failure—should have been disposed of quietly, but Chegalle had not done so, and he had given his nephew a chance, a chance that seemed to have some life.

The Hopkins never thought that Chegalle would be a good-hearted man, and if he was, then he should not be the one who sits in the position of "Don" now, and there are several brothers above Chegalle. It's likely that the decision was made for some reason or as it stands, but will Chegalle really keep Meare alive? Even if he survives, he will no longer have the opportunity to inherit the identity of "Don" and continue to stay on Poseidon Island, and he will be exiled to a remote area, perhaps on an island in the western continent.

Chegalle won't be happy.

But as Sasha said, there are people who want Mayare to live.

***

Meyare tentatively moved his arms and legs, and found that the chains were not as tight as they seemed, and he struggled as hard as he could, but inconspicuously, and sure enough, the chains soon became loose, and his heels used all his strength to step on the uneven part of the Christ's cross—like most of the reefs in the shallow seas and the metal left behind by the shipwreck, the parts of the Christ's cross that had been sunk in the sea for many years were parasitic with shellfish and seaweed, and the uneven parts were pointed and slippery, and Meyare's heels were quickly cutThe salting of the sea irritated the wound, and the pain made Meyare cry out loud—but the price was well worth it, and he barely stood firm on the cross, his hands turned up, and he clenched the bar tightly.

As the water rose quickly, Meare's face raised, a position that was not conducive to breathing, and he opened his mouth wide and greedily inhaled the air mixed with droplets and seaweed.

The tide was surging and pushing his body around, and on several occasions, he almost lost that precious foothold - if Meyare wasn't a big man with a stubborn personality, maybe he wouldn't have been able to hold it up a long time ago. It would be hours before the next low tide, the rippling waves lapping his ears, and for a few minutes the water had gone over his jaw, but he held on, though he was exhausted and dying after hours of relentless struggle.

He waited until the tide was low, and when the sea receded below his shoulder, Meyare, who had kept his eyes closed, sang with joy in his heart: "Look," he cried out in his heart, "Behold, Our Lady is watching us from heaven, and she will not allow the devil's plot to succeed." ”

Mayare's feet were almost numb from pain, but just as he rejoiced in his regain of his life, a new pain rushed into his brain.

Instinctively, he looked down as the hot and dazzling sunlight pierced the clear waters, and he saw his puffy, pale body in the water, and the gaudy whip marks slowly forming on this large body—like a skilful invisible executioner whipping with a very thin and elastic braided whip. Clusters of blisters emerge at a speed visible to the naked eye, some of which burst before they can fully bulge, releasing a translucent liquid into the seawater...... The pain they inflicted was so great that Meyare forgot everything, his face spasmed and deformed, he let out an uncoordinated wail after another, his arms and legs twitched wildly, and he even bit off part of his tongue.

Like a victim in a famous detective novel, until the end of his life, an enlightening aura flashed through Mayare's dying brain, and he straightened up and shouted the key word.

Unfortunately, the observer would not arrive until an hour later, and his final plea and accusation were not known, and the only proof was the horrific scars on his body.

A few fluffy round assemblages of brown mucous membranes and fibers breathed slowly and heavily, carrying deadly stinging cells, tentacles more than a hundred feet long floated freely in the azure waters, and the warm water temperature around Poseidon Island made them a little uncomfortable with the Arctic Sea and the North Atlantic and North Pacific seas, but they still fulfilled the task assigned by humans perfectly.

***

"Chegalle is going to break the bank again." Sasha said.

"Nothing," said Beelzebub, with no emotion in his black grape-like eyes: "—he's 'Don.'" ”

(To be continued)