The room falls into a stunned silence after Irvine's explanation. Honestly, even he didn't believe everything he just said, it was just Atniel's conspiracy theory, and Irvine knew how ridiculous it all sounded.
But now, seeing everyone's serious expressions, a spark of confidence begins to flicker in him. Maybe, just maybe, he had actually made sense.
But then…
"Ubh!" Elea tries, and fails, to hold back a snort of laughter.
In a flash, the room explodes with laughter. People are bent over, clutching their sides like they've just heard the world's funniest joke.
"Okay, okay," Jack says between giggles. "I can buy that we're trapped on this island, but…"
"Holding negotiations?!" another pipes up.
"With moles?!"
"Did you even hear yourself?"
"And the way you said it, with that 'wise sage' look on your face, priceless!"
"Brahahaaa!"
The room becomes a carnival of belly laughs, leaving poor Irvine looking like someone who just realized he was the butt of the joke all along. Even Lily can't help but chuckle, though Maya sits in stony silence, glaring at the group with disapproval.
Atniel, meanwhile, is still yammering away in Irvine's head, throwing out more evidence to back up his theory. But Irvine, already humiliated, waves him off like a fly buzzing too close.
"Enough," Irvine mumbles, retreating to a corner to sulk. "I don't want to hear it anymore."
Before long, Aezel clears her throat and quickly regains her composure before reminding them about their current situation.
"It's great that you can still laugh in a situation like this. But sorry to ruin your mood! The fact we are trapped here with those monsters hasn't changed!"
She then tells Lily and Maya to prepare dinner with the remaining food supplies, and then rushes leaving that lounge room to look for Oughan and the others.
Meanwhile, at the dock, Oogorim is conducting his one-Orc crusade against the mole chimeras. When he discovers the half-submerged boat and the missing engine, his rage hits critical mass.
"Those damn moles!" he bellows, flexing his muscles, stomping the ground with enough force to scare off nearby crabs. "I'm gonna shred their ugly mouths down to their earholes!"
Fueled by fury and hunger, he storms across the island like an angry GPS, searching every nook and cranny. From the cliffs to the bushes to the forest, he scours the land, yelling threats into the night.
But as dawn breaks, his grand mole hunt comes to a frustrating end. No moles, no dinner, just one very angry, very tired Orc.
Returning to the research center, he vents his wrath by punching a hole in the concrete fence. The alarms wail like a toddler denied candy, waking no one except Jack, who groggily peeks out from the lookout tower.
"Oh, it's just Oogorim," Jack mutters, hitting the alarm off switch before flopping back to sleep. "What do I care? He is the boss here!"
In the lounge room, chaos resumes when Oogorim smashes through the glass wall like a wrestler making a dramatic entrance, waking everyone up in shock. There is Irvine with Oughan, and three cops looking ready with their handguns.
"Oogorim! Where have you been?" Oughan asks.
Without saying anything, Oogorim approaches the leftovers from last night. There are only noodle soups, without meat. But there is no way he would be picky about food anymore. Sadly, not many noodles are left in those bowls.
"Where's the rest? Don't tell me those moles have eaten everything too! I've been looking for those fucking moles the entire island! And guess what I found! Nothing! There's no fucking mole out there!!!"
"You!" He gazes at Oughan before shifting his attention to Irvine. "And YOU! I know you were messing with me with all these moles' craps. You just want to save all the food for yourselves. I may have a big appetite, but I'm not greedy."
With a knife in his right hand, Irvine stares at the Orc with a hateful gaze. "Stop looking for an excuse! If you want to have a fight, then bring it!"
Oogorim grins, honing his horns menacingly as he breathes like a bull ready to charge. But before the fight can escalate, Oughan steps in, using all his strength to hold the Orc back by his chest.
"Relax!" Oughan says. "You're just hungry. Why don't you let me wake the others to prepare breakfast for you?"
"Wait for food?!" Oogorim barks, offended. "Do you know who I am?! I'm Oogorim, the mighty two-horned Orc! Telling me to wait for food is the ultimate insult to my race!"
He knocks Oughan's chest hard and then releases a huge war cry, loud enough to wake the dead. Finishing with that shout, he launches a huge swing towards Oughan.
Fortunately, Oughan is still able to maintain his composure. He ducks to avoid the huge swing, and swiftly moves behind Oogorim intending to take him down with a rear neck choke.
But Oogorim swings his left arm back first. Having no choice, Oughan can only protect himself by crossing both arms in front of him, and…
Brak!!!
Although he manages to block it, he is still thrown quite hard against the wall and falls onto the sofa.
On the other hand, Oogorim has already lifted the coffee table, but not to continue attacking Oughan. He shifts his attention towards Irvine, and slams the table at him.
Irvine manages to get away. However, the enraged Oogorim is already so close, about to stab his left horn into his stomach.
"You die now!" Oogorim roars, charging like a runaway bull.
Luckily, Oogorim's ramming attack is too straightforward and easy to read. Irvine sidesteps just in time, leaving the Orc to ram his horn into a concrete pillar.
Thunk!
The Orc's horn gets stuck, and Irvine takes the chance to catch his breath.
<< You better not take him too lightly! That last move was clearly meant for the kill! >>
Without saying a word, Irvine focuses, his adrenaline kicking into overdrive.
Zff!!!
Channeling his unique mana, a soft white plasma surrounds his entire body, wavering wildly.
On the other hand, Oogorim still tries hard pulling his horn free from the pillar, his rage undiminished. Oughan, still sprawled on the sofa, watches the glowing unique mana shrouding Irvine's body with a mixture of awe and confusion.
"What's that?" Oughan mutters, still clutching his ribs, no longer taking Irvine as the most useless Seed E.