The cruise that took off from Southampton was bound for Rome, stopping at various ports along the way.
It was a thirteen-day journey, and thankfully for Averie, all the costs were covered by Xinema.
Receiving such treatment for free had Hyerin shaken. But her colleagues didn’t seem to mind as they enjoyed their stay.
"We have to share a room?"
That was Min-Ha’s genuine reaction.
"Well, yes. What makes you think they would provide rooms for either of you?"
That was Averie’s genuine answer.
They were bickering outside the room while Hyerin was opening the locked door.
"Did you not book one for us?"
"Why would I waste that sort of money?" His eyebrows were joined in contempt. "And it’s not as bad as you think."
As the door opened, a spacious room entered his sight.
"See? What did I tell you?"
For sleeping, the room had a king-sized bed and a sofa that was designed to serve as a single bed if opened.
The sheets were red and white.
There was a coffee table with a little flower pot.
The mounted TV was playing the cruise’s channel. Averie immediately changed it as if it were the most sickening show.
"Why do people in hospitality like their own programs? Who kind of criminal watches this stuff?"
Most of the furniture was stuck to the walls, and a large sealed glass served as the room’s most beautiful wall.
Hyerin had attached herself to it, marvelling at the blue sheet of water outside.
"Do you think we’ll get to see the sunrise from here?"
"Who knows? We are on the starboard side, so for a few days, we may get to see the sunset."
"Who’s taking the sofa?" Averie asked.
The girls stared at him before he burst out into laughter.
"In your dreams!" he proclaimed, resting his buttocks on the soft bed. "Who do you think received those tickets? It certainly wasn’t you."
Min-Ha haughtily rested a hand on her waist. "You expect one of us to share the bed with you?"
Averie leaned back and stared at her over his crossed legs. "Yes."
"Okay." Min-Ha raised her hand. "Works for me!"
She tried to jump on the bed but was pulled away by Hyerin.
"We can decide who sleeps where with rock-paper-scissors, right?"
"Ooh." Averie got up. "Sounds good. Let’s play."
Unfortunately for the passionate gambler, he was pulled away to the main dining room, which was decorated with a buffet and courteous staff.
It was a little too crowded for Hyerin’s taste, but the other two did not mind.
There, they met with Hideo Nakamura, the director of Heresy of the Fallen World.
"Enjoying yourself, Mr. Auclair?"
He was there with his skinny wife, whom he introduced with quite the enthusiasm, only for Mini-Ha and Averie to make fun of her behind her back.
Joining them at the table was Celli, who had a lot of catching up to do with Averie.
"I was so surprised."
She was recalling the story of how she found out about Averie’s role as Allaryx.
"You should have told me, Mr. Nakamura."
The seafood, to the taste of everyone, was great.
’No one’s allergic, right?’ Averie wondered. ’It would be funny if someone were to die.’
The skies had turned completely dark by the time they finished dinner and came out.
"I have only been stopped once," Averie muttered while looking at the people gazing at the sea and the stars.
Since he boarded, only a pair had approached him for pictures. They, too, were from Binsfeld’s Seven Princes of Hell.
"Not many fans on the sea, huh?"
It dawned on Averie how small his fanbase in the West actually was.
’They really messed up the release of BSPH, huh?’
Another thought crossed his mind.
’I haven’t made it yet.’ He looked out at the sea. ’Popularity is like the ocean. It goes far deeper than you think.’
He looked at his companions beside him. They were enjoying the sea breeze.
’I’m not there yet. To be considered as influential as those who have worked in the international industry for decades is a task beyond impossible.’
"It’s cold. I am going in," he said.
’Wonder how many projects it will take before I am considered a legend of the industry like Gene Conti. Can I do it faster this time?’
The lady, in her London flat, was watching the show with surprising interest.
’What a wierdo,’ she thought.
"Please don’t touch the bars. Don’t hand them sharp objects."
While leading Quinn through the corridors, Keith, the zoo’s director, gave a few dos and don’ts.
"Don’t give the animals any food. We have them on proper diets."
"Can’t give them food? Alright, we can give them other stuff."
The man turned to face Quinn.
"No, you can’t. Please don’t give them anything."
Quinn shifted something in his pocket. "That’s a pity."
"What were you planning to hand them?"
"Oh, it’s just—" he pulled out a heavy chunk of metal "—a gun."
"Horse’s bollocks!" The man stepped back. "Why do you have it? Who let you bring it in?"
"Oh, um, I snuck it in."
The woman looked up the actor’s name.
’Averie Quinn Auclair? Oh, that’s why it’s called Long Live the Quinn.’
The man led him to the exhibit area, where various habitats were located.
"The enclosures are sturdy and well-maintained, as you can see."
He led them around a habitat, where a woman dressed like a zookeeper was waiting.
"This is Madelyn, our best handler. She will show you around today."
After wishing Quinn the best, the man quickly escaped.
Quinn pointed at himself. "Do you know me?"
"Yes." The girl smiled widely. "I am a big fan."
She showed him her phone. It had Asmodeus in the rain as her lock screen wallpaper.
She didn’t know why, but she wanted to look up his other works. The man had that attractive quality in his eyes.
’Fetching, isn’t he?’
"Your boss doesn’t know me, can you believe it?"
Madelyn didn’t mind Quinn’s humor.
She gave him a tour of the place.
"Because it is such a large place, we have to clean it regularly," she mentioned. "It is essential for the health of the animals. We have to be careful; we have all sorts of wildlife here."
Quinn noticed a white mammal staring at him from its rocky habitat, stupidly chewing on a tuft of grass.
"Ah, yes, goats, the wildest of animals."
Madelyn stifled a laugh. "Those are mountain goats."
"Quite built, aren’t they?"
"All that muscle helps them scale mountainsides, and as you can see, they have a thick coat that protects them from the cold. So, we have to always keep their enclosures cool."
"Take care of the less fortunate that much, and humanity would be fine," Quinn muttered.
The next animal on exhibit was a herd of majestic elephants. Thick metal wires were separating them from Quinn and Madelyn.
"These are Asian elephants." Madelyn petted the trunk of the closest one. "They are also called Asiatic elephants."
She told Quinn some trivia.
"...and they are intelligent animals."
She looked very excited, as if someone were praising her baby.
"They have the abilities required for tool use and tool-making. They have been observed grieving, learning, allomothering, mimicking, and playing. They have also shown qualities like altruism, compassion, cooperation, and self-awareness. Their memory and language skills are also exceptional."
"Good memory, huh?" Quinn tapped his chin in contemplation. "Let’s test it."
He took out a deck of cards from his pocket, shuffled it, took out a random card, and showed it to the elephant.
"Ace of hearts." He waved it in front of the giant. "Remember it."
He selected four more random cards from the deck, shuffled them with the ace of hearts, and arranged the five cards in front of the elephant, face up.
"Alright, go ahead," he said while holding a banana in his hand.
After a moment’s hesitation, the large animal’s trunk coiled around the banana. It snatched the sweet fruit, placed it in its mouth, and chewed with a face full of joy.
Like a good host, he turned to the handler.
"Not so smart, is he?"
The woman chuckled for the first time since the show began.
’It’s not bad,’ she thought.
Quinn shook his head as if disappointed. "No need to make excuses for him. He is dumb."
Madelyn continued her facts and trivia.
"They are considered an endangered species as poachers continue to hunt them for ivory." She turned to Quinn, her ponytail brushing against her collar. "Any questions?"
"Oh yes, give me a second."
He pulled out a list he had been scribbling on and wore a pair of sunglasses as if they were reading glasses.
"How much," he squintingly read, "does this bad boy excrete?"
The woman spat out her water.
It was the kind of thing her late son would say.