Chapter 232: Chapter 230: Counter-clockwise
As the platform rotated counter-clockwise, the Little Fish also swam counter-clockwise around the center of the cross, moving backward.
Mo Ling didn’t know if this was by design, but he found it odd.
He flew higher and, following the lines of runes, slowly read aloud the Fishman script near the platform:
"Clock..."
"Yu Mengyue, Yu Yumeng, in time and space, the clock is empty..."
’Is this... a poem?’
Mo Ling was a little surprised.
He had never encountered a poetic style like this in any of the Fishman script he had seen before.
But the moment Mo Ling deciphered this line of runes, he realized it was a poem—a very strange one.
Mo Ling had carefully examined the runes on the Moon Altar before. Compared to the diary-like entries in the ancient Fishman records, the lines of runes on the Moon Altar clearly bore the hallmarks of poetry.
Most of it was written vaguely and intermittently, making it impossible to discern any real meaning.
’Why use poetry?’ Mo Ling wondered.
’Is it because poetry is a better fit for the theme of the Sea-Moon Ceremony?’
Amidst the dense fog, these complex and profound runes lay silently upon the Moon Altar, their meaning unclear.
"Jeff, what’s left?"
"Nothing. This was the last step."
Jeff stared at the platform, somewhat dazed. It seemed he hadn’t expected that the most difficult part of preparing the Moon Altar would be completed so simply.
The Shrimp-headed Man’s gaze shifted between the platform and Jeff. His two antennae twitched constantly as he asked cautiously, "The Sea-Moon Ceremony... can we come and watch? I just want to see what it’s like."
Hearing the Shrimp-headed Man’s words, the other Fake Fishmen chimed in expectantly, "Yeah, even if you don’t let us on the Moon Altar, you can just let us watch from a distance."
"It’s once every two hundred years. We’ll only get to see this once in our lifetime."
Jeff nodded. "I’ll speak with the Great Clan Leader. It shouldn’t be a problem."
Jeff’s words were a great reassurance, and the Fake Fishmen present all revealed looks of anticipation.
"I really want to see what it’s like. Fishman Island is always so listless. It’s been a long time since we’ve had this much excitement."
"The last time it was this lively was when we opened up trade routes with the humans. They brought so many new things."
"Yeah, humans are such a vibrant race. Why are we Fishmen so dull?"
The Fake Fishmen relaxed and started to chat among themselves. While talking about humans, they looked over at Li Luo with admiration in their eyes.
"Back when I was with the Shrimp Race, the Shrimp People also found humans to be very friendly. Other races would attack them on sight, but humans just wanted to be friends right away."
"Why do humans need so many friends? Is that the price their race has to pay?"
At this question, the Fake Fishmen all turned to look at Li Luo in unison.
Li Luo wasn’t embarrassed by all the stares. She just lowered her head and fell into thought.
After a moment, she answered uncertainly.
"It’s probably just because humans are too weak."
Li Luo’s answer didn’t seem to satisfy the Fake Fishmen.
They countered:
"I don’t think humans are weak at all. Your weapons are incredibly powerful, and your research and application of relics are very advanced."
"Even in the abyss, you have plenty to eat and drink, and you can still wear beautiful clothes. How can a race like that be considered weak?"
This rebuttal left Li Luo stunned. She probably had never considered the question in this way.
’Are humans... considered a powerful race?’
’Is it false modesty, or are humans really not that powerful?’
As the Fake Fishmen chatted, someone suddenly posed a question:
"If the Fishman Race were as powerful as humans, what would we do?"
But this simple question plunged everyone into silence.
The Fake Fishmen all lowered their heads in thought, but for a long time, no one answered.
Finally, someone sighed. "I can’t think of anything."
"Me neither."
"Why think so much about it? The Fishman Race is fine as it is."
"That’s right."
As they spoke, the Fake Fishmen started chatting about other topics.
Only Jeff remained in a daze, his eyes vacant. His fish-like eyes seemed to pierce through the fog, gazing into the distance.
Over on one side, some other Fishmen were bustling about. They carried heavy cargo, having just struggled up from the passage to the top of the Moon Altar, only to turn around and throw themselves into other tasks. Their control over the water currents was intermittent, as if they were already overworked.
Jeff slowly raised his hand, only to let it fall limply.
He looked at Li Luo and asked with some curiosity, "Among you humans, are there people who do manual labor?"
Li Luo paused. "Of course."
"Are there many people like that?" Jeff pressed.
"Quite a lot. But we can use machinery to make it a little easier."
Hearing this, Jeff thought for a moment. "Machinery... you mean like the conveyor belts on the transport ship before?"
"Something like that."
Seeing how curious Jeff was, Li Luo began to explain some of the common machinery humans use...
"Although we use machinery, there is still a lot of manual labor that needs to be done by people for now. But humanity is always developing in the direction of liberating its workforce."
After listening to Li Luo’s explanation, Jeff nodded thoughtfully.
’If the Fishman Race became strong, we would probably liberate our workforce too.’
At this thought, Jeff’s eyes filled with longing.
But the flickering figures in the fog brought him back to reality.
"In all these years, from the time I was born until now, it seems like nothing has ever changed for the Fishman Race."
"We do everything according to the ancient Fishman records. We don’t know why, and we don’t understand the principles. The things we know, we’ve always known. The things we don’t, we’ll never understand."
"If I hadn’t come into contact with these Fake Fishmen who returned from the outside world, I would still be living in a daze, rolling around in the mud every day. Maybe even when I die, the Fishman Race will still be just like it is today."
"Two hundred years from now, when the next Sea-Moon Ceremony comes, another group of people will struggle to prepare the Moon Altar, risk their lives fighting the Old-Eaters, and mindlessly carry out the tasks dictated by the ancient Fishman records."
"Four hundred years, six hundred, eight hundred..."
"Over and over, it’ll still be the same."
Jeff slowly poured out his troubles to Li Luo, his voice full of despair and helplessness. This was clearly a weight that had been on his mind for a long time.
The broadening of his horizons had brought Jeff not only a more comprehensive way of thinking, but also countless new worries.
The more he knew, the more he wanted to change.
But he couldn’t.
He was just an ordinary Fishman. He had neither the means nor the authority to interfere with the development of his entire race.
The more Jeff spoke, the more desolate he became, his voice growing softer and softer.
"I can’t even get my village to accept the Fake Fishmen."
"I can’t change anything..."
