Aboard the Sea God, someone would occasionally come onto the deck to gaze at the boundaries of the hidden space and the dark, oppressive Berserk Sea beyond, where storms raged, before offering a word of praise to the Sea God.
Standing at the captain's cabin window, Anderson watched the crew members clasp their hands before their chests and could not help muttering:
"Although I don't mind my crew having their own faith, if this keeps up, I feel like their captain is going to become a mascot."
"The constraints of faith do give them a certain rapport, but that rapport isn't centered on me, so it can't become part of the ritual."
Cyril rubbed his chin for a while before saying thoughtfully, "If you can't win them over with your personal charisma, you could provoke them instead."
"Or should I appoint you as an oracle?"
"..." The corner of Anderson's mouth twitched slightly before he changed the subject.
"I'm more curious about what exactly you're trying to achieve by guiding them toward faith."
Cyril leaned back against his chair.
"An experiment. I'm curious whether, with faith supporting it, I can separate out a special identity and turn the Sea God in those sailors' hearts from something false into something real."
Anderson opened his mouth, then fell silent again.
After a moment of quiet, he suddenly asked, "Do you think I could cultivate adequate rapport in a short time by influencing them with psychological suggestion and hypnosis?"
Cyril shook his head thoughtfully.
"Rapport comes from mutual understanding and habit. Rather than psychological suggestion and hypnosis, you'd be better off borrowing Groselle's Travels from Edwina. Nothing builds rapport better than adventuring together."
"Besides, a Sea God who doesn't actually exist won't exert any top-down influence on those sailors. Even if they completely