CHAPTER 852: 852: DIVINE GAME-CARD SWAP101

When only three cue-ball ships remained on the sea, everyone noticed that the cue’s behavior had changed.

Fat Goose stood on the deck, staring in wonder at the dark cloud cue that gently nudged a ship forward. "What’s going on?"

Maple Syrup swept her eyes across the water. "That was the last even-numbered cue-ball ship."

Only Ships 1, 7, and 16 were left.

Just as all the apprentices thought the white cloud cue would target an odd-numbered cue-ball ship next, the dark cloud cue didn’t vanish. The cloud silhouette behind the waterfall watched a plain ship slide helplessly toward the hole.

That ordinary vessel had no skills that could change its fate. It was struck and pocketed without resistance.

The cloud figure raised its right hand in a casual wave, then once again leveled the dark cloud cue at the last odd-numbered cue-ball ship.

Fat Goose muttered dryly, "So... the white cloud cue really is on our side?"

"Looks that way. But the condition is that only when there’s one cue-ball left does it trigger this unlimited strike mode, where every hit just needs to sink a ship," Motor explained, already digging out tools to push their ship’s durability back up from 80 percent.

If this was the mode now, 80 percent might not be nearly enough.

But Fat Goose still frowned. "Didn’t look like he cared much about breaking that ship, though."

The apprentices on the last odd-numbered cue-ball ship barely had time to patch it before preparing for a second hit.

Clearly, the striker wasn’t interested in giving them breathing room.

Rita glanced at the nearby ordinary ships. "If there’s only one cue-ball ship left... maybe the others can inherit its pets?"

"Highly possible," Mistblade replied patiently while lining up tools beside Motor. "They won’t let the game stall out."

Rita turned her attention to the maps. They had gathered nine fragments, still three short.

The incomplete set showed nothing. Just as Motor had guessed, maybe it required the full twelve to reveal the treasure.

After a moment’s thought, she split the nine maps, giving each teammate two and keeping one herself. "Mojie is still out there," she reminded them.

Mistblade stared at her piece, then asked suddenly, "What if I copy it?"

The maps were uniform in size—three rows by four columns, twelve in total.

Only the four corners were unique, each marked with a hole. The rest were nearly indistinguishable: ocean fragments or border tiles with waterfalls, nearly interchangeable.

The missing three were two waterfall-border pieces and one central ocean fragment.

The others leaned in close, eyes bright with possibility.

"Worth a try. There are no numbers on them," Rita said. She glanced toward Ship 16, battered and bouncing closer to their Ship 7 with every hit. "But do you still have enough copies left? Didn’t you already use two on gems?"

Motor confirmed, "Two."

Mistblade smiled sheepishly. "Actually, I can copy seven times a day."

Motor gawked. "Seven?!"

Rita groaned. "...If Lightchaser hears that, she’ll pin your tail on the wall. That hook has been waiting years."

Mistblade froze, realizing too late the match was being broadcast. With their record, there was no avoiding the top 100.

She blurted out, fast as lightning, "I really could only copy three before, but I got so fired up thinking about our future that I broke through!"

Rita deadpanned, "Sure. Totally believe you."

Even as she spoke, Mistblade’s hands never stopped. By the time she finished explaining, the three missing maps were already copied and placed.

When their banter ended, a complete map lay across the console.

Under their gaze, the twelve fragments merged seamlessly. A black 7 on white appeared at one point on the map—their location.

And in the 8 o’clock direction, two tiles away, a flashing red dot pulsed.

The treasure.

They cursed under their breath.

Because as the dot lit up, a massive red pillar of light shot skyward from the sea.

Every remaining apprentice cried out in unison. "Treasure!"

The nearest ship dove straight into the beam.

Fat Goose swore in Candlebeast tongue, then snapped, "So tell me again, what was the point of collecting the map?"

Motor echoed him, "Yeah, what was the point?"

Fat Goose glared. "For the love of—stop parroting me!"

Motor shrugged. "Alright, don’t get worked up."

But despair shifted to confusion. No victory announcement. No champion declared.

The ship inside the red beam was still circling.

Every apprentice turned their eyes to Ship 7.

Did it require the complete map?

Fat Goose was already rushing to the helm, ready to steer into the beam, when Rita—who had been frowning in thought—ran over to stop him. "Wait!"

Fat Goose hesitated. "We’re not going?"

"Let me think. Let me think." Rita repeated the words, calming her team and herself.

Every ship on the sea was racing toward the beam. One second’s hesitation could cost them the championship. But her mind wouldn’t stop racing. No pressure could shut down a thinker’s instinct.

She said firmly, "We have the map. We’re not the ones who need to panic. Let me figure this out."

[Rita]: There’s something under the sea

[Rita]: From the designer’s perspective, they wouldn’t put pointless content in

[Rita]: Otherwise the surface map would’ve been enough. More battles, more strategy, it works fine

[Rita]: If they didn’t want us going deeper, they could’ve hard-locked it like they did with the 10-meter ship distance rule

[Maple Syrup]: The seabed!

[Mistblade]: You think the treasure’s under the sea?

[Rita]: Yes. Of course, maybe running in with the map works too. But what if it’s below?

[Fat Goose]: You think we might need to dive? Hm?

[Motor]: Using free drive time on the surface really is a waste

[Maple Syrup]: Exactly. Once the orb’s free drive runs out, that’s it. No time left for fishing. We need another way to approach the beam.

Talking with people who got it was a relief. Rita’s tense expression softened as her teammates caught her idea instantly.