In Marvy’s last tour around the ocean, “uniting” the Island “Nations” (as is plainly his intent, not, say, “dragging every person he meets aboard his floating apartment building and hoping the majority of them are useful and/or attractive”) it became clear to him that King Lido was absolutely correct to cede power to him, because it turns out the ruler of Obel is not especially well-liked by his peers. Unfortunately, Lido undercut his once-in-a-lifetime correct decision by constantly hovering over Marvy’s shoulder and loudly announcing, “I PUT THIS GUY IN CHARGE. THIS GUY RIGHT HERE. HE’S WITH ME.” Between that and Slowe openly attempting to thirst-trap him with a dog collar, it’s incredible Marvy has gotten anything done.

Now that RAH-ZOO-RILL has been liberated and he has a bunch of sailors in plate armor on his side again, Marvy has just one more island from which to throw off the yoke of Kooluk oppression. It so happens that he doesn’t want to, more or less entirely out of spite, so he puts his mind to strengthening the numbers of the Seaward instead.

Well, the first thing he puts his mind to is his comment box, because it’s been a while and he’s hoping he’s saved up some letters from people who aren’t near-illiterate mermaids. After sweet notes from both Kevin and Pam inviting him to come have some steamed buns (Marvy is having his whole worldview of straight people rocked to its foundations), Marvy opens one from Tov, the shipbuilder who tried to hide his occupation from Marvy despite having a boat on the back of his bathrobe. Anyway, Tov writes, “Previously, in the Kingdom of Obel, there was a contest for shipwrights.” Well, for once, that is an initiative of Lido’s that makes sense to Marvy. However! “I came in second, but for some reason, I was entrusted with the designing of this ship. I thank His Majesty for that.” What? WHAT?! My best guess here is that Lido took a look at the winning design, eyed the quote pinned to the blueprints, and then shouted at Molesley, “Get me their non-union equivalent!”

Et tu, Kika?

Marvy utters a quiet prayer for the integrity of Tov the Scab’s craftsmanship and closes the letter box for now.

On to recruiting, and definitely not back to doing anything nice for Lido. Marvy’s first stop is back on Razril, now with–sigh–Katarina along for the ride. Grizzly McGee is still hanging out in the inn, mourning his fake brother and getting shitfaced at 11 a.m. That’s rude of me–it might be noon. He tells Katarina the Gaien Knights would have been “lost” if she had died in the chaos that engulfed the island. It very much seems like that happened without her dying, but what do I know, I’m not the Billy Carter of Razril like this guy. Katarina’s all “Master…” like this was said out of any kind of caring for her personally. He then snaps at her not to call him that, because he is retired. Listen, Beardy, if I see my fifth grade teacher at the grocery store when I’m back home, I’m going to call her Mrs. Peavey, and she’s been retired for 20 years. Jesus, am I defending Katarina? Gross. Despite his weird (and possibly hereditary) grouchiness, after a moment of silence between him and his former pupil, he asks where to sign his recruitment papers. Katarina did not expect this–girl, WHY ELSE would you be here?–but Grizz bowls over her: “I’ll leave the decision to the leader. What do you say, Marvy?” Just for acknowledging him as the leader, Marvy says yes. He might need to put together a loyal cell within the Seaward in the event Lido gets ideas beyond his hobo station.

“Grumpy, frumpy old man linked to Katarina” is admittedly not a great start to Marvy’s rounds, but that was one he knew was out there and wanted to rip the bandaid off. Maybe the next one will be better! With Mitsuba in tow, for once because she’s required and not just because I like her, Marvy returns to Na-Nal and the village green where he met, fought, and recruited Mitsuba a million years ago. A young man with chin-length blond hair, and a face Marvy would not kick out of bed for eating crackers, asks him, “Say, do you know about the girl who was tricking people into fighting her?” Uhhh. I guess Mitsuba is still in Marvy’s rectal Pokéball. Marvy can choose to play dumb or ask, “Are you also a victim?” He of course chooses the latter, because there’s no way the lie of the former is going to hold up. “I-I’m the victim?” Jeremy here sputters indignantly. “Wh-What are you saying?!” Toxic masculinity has clearly taken hold of this man, and Marvy is really unsure if he wants to wade into those waters, even for that flawless complexion and those broad shoulders.

Mitsuba finally emerges, only to get on Marvy’s case for being mean, you know, to the guy she beat up as part of a grift. If Jeremy appreciates her defense, though, it’s outweighed by his need to right this wrong and prove he is a MAN. He will beat her up this time! This is an improvement, somehow! Jeremy demands they “settle” this, to which Mitsuba can only reply, “Oh, you’re the sucker from before! Hahahahahaha!!” She is a perfect angel. Unfortunately for Jeremy’s feelings, Mitsuba is out of the game for good, or so she claims. But she has the perfect solution: “Now, I’m in the middle of an adventure with Sir Marvy and the others. I know! If you want, come with us!” This is patently insane. And in case Jeremy weren’t enticed enough by this killer deal, she adds, “Hahahahaha!! You must be lonely without anyone to fight, right? Come on!” Who says no?! Jeremy is thoroughly baffled, but Marvy just repeats, “Come on,” and just like that the dude is on board. I have no idea what just happened. “All right…” Jeremy relents. “It’s too bad we can’t settle this, but I’ll show you the true power of the Flowing Strike Sword!” Marvy’s sword also has flowing strikes. Though he thinks “spurting” is more accurate, if not as poetic.

Back on the ship, while he’s making his rounds and feeding his crippling gambling addiction, Marvy wanders into the rune cannon hold. Pablo looks up from his endless dusting and caressing of the rune shells. “Sir Marvy, I’ve heard that in Middleport, there is an atelier for a sorcerer named Warlock.” I feel like maybe I didn’t need his occupation made explicit. Continue! “This Warlock person is so incredible, they say Rune Cannons would never have come into existence without him. Let me give you an idea of just how great he is. First, he found a way to put a Rune’s power in a Rune Shell…” Runes are already in rune shells, since they’re marbles, but maybe I’m the idiot for not getting how revolutionary this rune technology is? Also now I can’t stop saying rune, so thanks for that?

Marvy is getting bored, which Pablo picks up on just enough for Marvy to get a word in edgewise. He can choose to ask Pablo to tell him all of this later, or he can just stay silent. Against my own better judgment, Marvy wants to know more about this Warlock, so he chooses the latter, only for Pablo to probably have a flush creep all the way over his nose. “Oh, p-pardon me! When I start talking about Rune Cannons, I just can’t stop!” Man, I know Marvy didn’t say keep talking, but Jesus, this is the best green light you’re ever going to have. Just fucking plow on, dude. “S-So, what I wanted to say is… If we’re ever in Middleport, I thought we might get him to join us. Though, by now, he might be quite elderly.” Nah, I’m sure a guy named Warlock is a hot college student who Marvy will find in the pool, practicing the backstroke for the Island Nations Olympic Relay. Marvy ain’t that lucky, Pablo. “Also,” Pablo notes, “the atelier apparently has some sort of trap, where we’re supposed to ‘Choose the Wrong Way’ or something.” What an odd thing to say. It’s like Pablo read a FAQ for recruiting Warlock but only remembers the broadest strokes of it.

First of all, how dare you

Katarina is still in Marvy’s party, and that will not do for where Marvy’s going, or for anything, for that matter. He dumps her and Mitsuba to pick up Aldo and Jeremy, and with Axel already in the party we are at possibly dangerous levels of brooding manpain, but Marvy will take that risk. Maybe Warlock is a therapist!

For the complete lack of instructions Marvy was given on how exactly to find Warlock, his residence, at the end of an alley, is easy enough to spot. Just outside, Marvy finds a chest with a single mushroom in it, which feels ominous. Marvy is not trying to become the cartel lord of the ocean, he swears. Marvy enters through the bleached wooden door to find himself in an empty, cobwebbed, windowless shack. I’m not saying Warlock is doing so, but someone has cooked meth in here. There is no room for doubt. The only object in the room is a large open chest. Weird that someone looted in here but didn’t take the mushroom outside! That’s just sloppy. Marvy inspects the chest and finds that it is talking to him. Totally normal. “You had 51 Potch and bought 4 pieces of fruit that cost 6 Potch each. How much do you have left?” it asks. Marvy is given two choices, the correct answer, 27, and 24, a dumb answer for stupid children. He’s about to smugly indicate how good he is at basic math when he remembers Pablo’s warning to “Choose the Wrong Way.” Why, that might mean choose the wrong answer! It seems an imprecise way to put it, and we all know Marvy is used to everything around him being clear, accurate, and thoughtfully crafted. Nonetheless, he answers, “24 Potch,” and suddenly he’s tumbling through darkness into a secret corridor.

This maze of tunnels seems to have been carved through the bedrock of Middleport, I can only assume for the purpose of running all that meth. It’s an island the size of a city block–it’s not like they’re smuggling people under the Berlin Wall. And if Warlock is hanging out down here the odds that he is himself a meth cook just skyrocketed. Further cementing this Facebook Brain conspiracy theory in Marvy’s head: among the random enemies trying to slow his progress through the tunnels are swarms of Holly Boys. I referred to these when I saw them on Elenor’s island as “a field of grass,” and I stand by that phrasing, despite whatever meanings you druggies might think it implies. I do have some questions about how this Holly Kush could grow down here in the dark stone, but I guess grow lights and hydroponics can make up for a lot.

I’m talking about weed in a way that totally doesn’t make me sound like an undercover cop at a high school because this tunnel network is otherwise very boring. Marvy finds various treasures hidden in the tunnels’ dead ends, like an Ivory Robe, with high thigh slits in my imagination, that can go on Ted later. No, none of the chests contain drugs, because this is clearly a smart operation that wouldn’t just leave the drops around for narcs like Marvy to find.

Across a bridge over a trickle of water, Marvy’s team is ambushed by a boss fight. I only know this is a boss because I looked it up–it plays like one of the random hard monster encounters where you only know something is up because of the music. This towering winged creature is called a Land Dragon, and not only does that name seem weird for something that is currently hovering above the ground, but it seems like a poor fit for a monster charged with guarding these drug tunnels, given the low ceilings. It does a good enough job blocking my progress toward its chemist master–it kills Axel two separate times!–but that likely has more to do with the spectacularly weird and bad party I assembled for this excursion. Oh, Marvy is the best offensive combatant and has the only healing spells? Good planning! I need to stop enabling Marvy’s horniest impulses.

‘Good news, Katarina! Your fifth-deck state room now has a PATIO.’

At the end of the tunnel Marvy finds an “Underground Laboratory,” with rotting wooden shelves stocked with dusty bottles, books lining the dirt walls, and a small lab bench with a sink and some boiling Bunsen burners. It’s like the deranged organ grinder from Cockariko Village snapped and constructed a supervillain lair in the well dungeon. To that end, a dark-skinned old man, his white hair in a widow’s peak, is standing in the center of the room, over a low table with several rune shells set into it. The geezer has a book open on a stand, making him look more like a composer or a preacher than a scientist. “What do you want?” Warlock, obviously, asks. With the benefit of his portrait I notice he has a dot of a white chin beard and pince-nez glasses perched on his nose, which means he’s probably Oleg’s dad and is not to be trusted. The fact that he’s deep underground in a dank, maybe soundproofed basement with this man settles on Marvy like a rain cloud. And given that the strongest member of his party could not escape a jail cell made of wood when he had a sword, he’s not confident any of them are going to be helpful.

Marvy nervously asks if he is in fact “Mr. Warlock,” leading the man to jump straight to the conclusion that Marvy is in search of Oleg Warlock Sr., Runic Arms Merchant of Death. “I will sell Rune Shells no more,” he says. “Not to Gaien. Not even to the Kingdom of Obel. The weapon is too advanced for this era.” Settle down, Oppenheimer, it’s a fucking cannonball. He then insists that he couldn’t sell them anyway because he already sold them all! Whoops! So did this moral righteousness crystallize the second the checks cleared, or did it take a few days?

As if he weren’t already on the hook for numerous war crimes, Warlock goes on, quite out of nowhere, “Don’t give me that look. I know why the Iluya village disappeared in an instant. The fools…” But…is Cristo Redeathstar powered by rune shells? I assume this is the guy who would know–he pointedly did not say he wouldn’t sell to the Kooluk–and yet nobody has said anything about this until now. Marvy doesn’t even attempt to dispute this, as he is only given the choice to either remain silent or ask, “Won’t you fight the Kooluk with us?” Those dirty Kooluk and their rune shell lasers! Let’s fight them with more rune shell lasers! Bigger ones! That can fire all night long! If this seems like exactly the sort of appeal Warlock was shooting down in the first place, well, it turns out the old man doesn’t agree! “You sure are a pesky one,” he says. Guilty. “I suppose I can help…but only because you insist. I, too, have a human heart after all.” I…wow. “I don’t care what you say, I’m never selling weapons of mass destruction again! What’s that? You insist? Well, why didn’t you say so? Here’s some napalm. I’m not made of stone!”

When the war is your responsibility

With one last assurance that he’s not actually going to do anything for Marvy, Warlock joins the ranks. For once I would have preferred useless to “feckless Hydra scientist,” but luckily this time I get both. After scouring the laboratory for any secret cameras, Marvy heads out the way he came. Then he thinks better of it, teleports back to the ship, and then back to Middleport. Honestly, walking is for chumps.