Six hours later, the boat still showed no sign of stopping. They had even resupplied along the coast several times and encountered a storm. If Arthur had not possessed the special ability to use information from fish schools to avoid storms, this new boat would probably have been battered beyond recognition by now.
This fishing boat had never been meant for deep-sea voyages. It could only fish in nearshore and mid-range waters. Taking it all the way down the California coastline to Mexico was really asking too much of it.
At last, after roughly seven and a half hours, the boat finally stopped. Schiller's face had gone a little pale. Leaning against the railing, he looked at Arthur as he emerged and asked, "Are we really there?"
"We've only reached the vicinity of the islands. We still need to find the specific island. If you're not feeling well, go rest inside first. I'll swim over and look for it."
Schiller nodded, accepting the arrangement. First, he could not swim. Second, even if he could, he had no strength left to do so.
Gray Mist had been right. His seasickness was a psychological reaction. Gray Mist could forcibly keep his stomach muscles from spasming, but the discomfort would shift elsewhere, into symptoms like chest tightness and cold sweats.
Even if Gray Mist could forcibly smooth over all those symptoms, Schiller's mind would still tell him that those parts of his body were suffering. So he decided it would be better to remain on the boat.
Superego had said it was taking annual leave and would not let him enter the Mind Palace. That meant he could not seek Dream God's blessing, nor could he simply poke that feather and summon Lucifer. Even if he wanted to jump into the sea and