The old fisherman had attached the end of the net to the winch, his face bearing the weathered marks of constant sea breezes, his hands covered in calluses. The machine roared to life, slowly winding up the white net from the deep sea. He was rewarded with shells and small fish, and occasionally a pink coral fish weighing over ten pounds, still frantically thrashing, with crimson gills pulsating madly, mouth opening and closing—these were undoubtedly exotic delicacies for tourists from afar, fetching handsome prices at the market.
This place boasted an abundance of unique fish species. If one was lucky enough to coincide with buyers from other planets, one could make quite a profit. Such benefits were not found elsewhere. There, fishing had long since become commercialized and industrialized, dominated by the large fleets of alliance company vessels. Huge nets were cast and lifted, with tons of fish being loaded onto aircraft within five minutes of capture and transported to warehouses or markets on land. There was no longer a place for the small fishing boats.
Bei’en happened to be a place not overly fond of technology, holding a certain disdain for large foreign corporations. That was why he, an outsider, had chosen to stay in Bei’en as a fisherman.
Today’s catch was particularly good. The machine could automatically detangle and sort the catch, so the old fisherman tossed the stripped seaweed back into the ocean, opened a hatch beneath his feet, revealing a freezer filled with ice blocks, and threw in the shells and fish. Some of the fish, freshly pulled from the deep sea, had eyes slightly bulging due to the pressure change.
It was a pity that he couldn’t afford an aircraft, nor the most advanced live tanks with pressure regulators; otherwise, completely fresh fish could have sold for an even better price. Just then, the bright moon hung high in the sky, the amount of stardust was low today, and there was less fog, revealing a transparent, rose-purple sky. The tide would rise later, submerging the fog and leaving the entire sea clear and shimmering.
It was time to head back.
The engine started silently, steering him along a set course. The sea here was calm, free of hidden reefs, perfect for night sailing.
For a while, there were only the sounds of the waves and the ship slicing through the water.
Far off, he could see several familiar islands, with silent rocks on them. The old fisherman merely glanced at them in his usual manner, but then he froze.
Although it was not clear in the night, his eagle-like vision allowed him to faintly discern that behind one of the rocks… there seemed to be a human figure. More precisely, a figure kneeling.
Startled, he quickly turned the boat to look: “Hey!”
He thought it might be a tourist or fisherman in distress at sea, but after calling out, the figure remained motionless.
The tide would soon flood the islets completely. So the boat sped towards the island, avoiding the nearby reefs, and circled to the side.
Now the old fisherman could see clearly: the figure wore a windbreaker with a hood, a thick coat adorned with a patch, featuring a starlit iceberg. This emblem was worn by regular patrolling vessels in the area, whether they were coastguards or icebreaker crews.
The person with the patch was reaching out with hands raised high—
As if desperately longing for something, yet they were frozen in motion.
How could someone maintain that position?
A chill ran down the fisherman’s back.
But what came into view next was even more horrifying.
Rounding the black rocks, he found dozens of such figures kneeling on the island, their hands stretched towards the center. Like any crew member, they were wrapped from head to toe, obscuring their identities from the old fisherman.
The scene struck him with terror, and he called out tentatively once more: “…Hey.”
No one responded, as if time itself had halted.
Gathering his courage, he disembarked with an emergency light in hand, wading through the water that varied in depth—now the tide was rising quickly, and the island was being swallowed, leaving only a small piece visible. He approached the nearest figure and tentatively tapped on the shoulder: “Hey, you…”
The figure toppled over lightly.
Beneath the furry hat was a half skull, empty eye sockets, and half a decayed face, the rotting skin faintly tinged with green.
Even so, there was a delirious joy on his face, one corner of the mouth turned up in a smile.
The old fisherman fell seated on the ground in fright, the emergency light rolling away in the sand, its casing mixing with fine sand and seawater.
The switch was inadvertently knocked, and the light was turned up to its brightest setting, causing the blinding illumination to sweep rapidly around—
On the distant islands, there were circles of people.
Arms outstretched, they displayed both skeletal remains and frenzied expressions.
It was a pilgrimage at sea.
A fervent embrace of death masquerading as a pilgrimage.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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…
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He claimed not to be cold, but Shen Zhaomu didn’t believe it, forcibly draping a blue cold-weather coat over him. The coat was clearly oversized, looking somewhat bulky on his frame. There were also a pair of Shen Zhaomu’s polar combat pants that were far too long for him, draping over his snow boots.
Long Shiyu resembled an overstuffed loaf of bread or perhaps a waddling, plump penguin, especially with his neck wrapped several times by the newly purchased scarf, as he ambled along.
Shen Zhaomu, on the other hand, wore very little, standing on deck as he lit a cigarette.
Long Shiyu waddled over to complain, “Look at you, dressed so lightly, and you pile all this on me.”
Shen Zhaomu flicked the ash from his cigarette and raised an eyebrow, “I have psychic power to ward off the cold, do you?”
“I’m not afraid of cold…” Long Shiyu protested, “I saw online, they say there’s a kind of cold called ‘grandma thinks you’re cold.'”
Fang Qing, who happened to overhear, let out a hearty laugh.
Shen Zhaomu: “…” Cast in the role of a grandmother, he was left with mixed emotions.
The loaf of dragon shifted and slowly moved away.
Their vessel was a Hunter Outpost’s exclusive small combat boat. Despite its size, the specially crafted metal could even withstand multiple strikes from the frenzied dragon whales, and on both sides beneath the waterline were weapons designed for exotic creatures, from the torpedos to the drill-like lances spinning at such high velocities that they could instantly penetrate an enemy’s body, inflicting severe damage or pulverizing it outright.
Although it lacked ice-breaking capabilities, it was sufficiently agile for sea operations.
Just two hours after they had finished lunch at the market, they received an alert from the outpost:
A fisherman had fainted on the shore yesterday and only regained consciousness in the hospital today, recounting a horrific scene:
Countless decaying sailors, rotted half to bone, each carrying a fervent look while extending their hands in one direction.
Since it was clearly the work of an exotic creature, the Star Police had granted the outpost full authority over the area.
Normally, for an exotic creature of this caliber, the outpost would call for assistance from the Hunter Dispatch Center—like when they faced an attack by a swarm of skeletal mermaids before. But Shen Zhaomu and his team were nearby, so they were urgently called here first.
Song Qianqian and Li Jianchun had gone too far away and hadn’t made it back in time.
It wasn’t just their tactical ship here; behind them followed seven or eight vessels abreast, churning white foam on the black sea, with four or five small aircraft overhead.
The outpost’s hunters were few, and this time a great many had been deployed.
The combat ship had just been loaded with supplies at the dock, including the usual assortment of canned foods and several kinds of fresh seafood.
Long Shiyu stopped in front of the live hold where the seafood was being stored and sneakily peeked inside by lifting a corner of the hatch.
Shen Zhaomu also came over to his side: “What’s wrong? You want to eat them?”
“Yeah.”
“Go ahead, eat. No one will object,” Shen Zhaomu gestured towards the other end of the deck, “There’s a grill ready to use. I’ll activate it for you with my hunter’s badge.”
Thus, Long Shiyu, in high spirits, scooped up a lot of seafood from the live hold with a big net, put it into a black plastic bag, and followed Shen Zhaomu to the other end.
He said, “I thought you guys didn’t eat anything during missions.”
As Shen Zhaomu walked, he responded, “Someone has always been monitoring our surroundings in real-time, and we’re not yet within the mission area, so it’s alright. However, there was a time in the past when such freedom wasn’t permitted.” Suddenly, as if recalling something, he asked, “Have I ever told you the story of an inspector? The old man who tried to scrutinize our discipline. He should be working in Bei’en now.”
“I haven’t heard it,” Long Shiyu said, his face alight with the eagerness to hear a story.
His clothes were far too cumbersome, and he moved as slowly as a little loaf of bread.
For some reason, Shen Zhaomu found himself casually chatting with Long Shiyu about these matters. Just one or two months earlier, he had no intention of bringing up the past with Long Shiyu—
It made him feel slightly peculiar, but he began to speak regardless, “When I first joined the association, that guy had just taken office…”
Years before, an inspector had taken up post in the guild.
The old man was a dogmatic bureaucrat, who actually tried to impose strict discipline on the hunters, attempting to cultivate virtuous qualities in these killers and establish a radiant image of the guild among the people. His exact words were, “Many people think of us hunters as unrefined and wild, so it’s time to change that, to show them we’re actually a blend of toughness and gentleness, capable of gratitude.”
He demanded that every hunter affiliated with the headquarters submit a weekly report, a document titled “The Sage’s Week.”
The report was to detail daily acts of kindness performed by the hunters, which were then displayed on a loop on the holographic screens next to the room housing the dragon whales, in the main hall of the headquarters.
Thus, he became a legend within the guild.
“During that time,” Shen Zhaomu said, “he was actually somewhat useful. To be honest, the hunters of the guild have never been as united as they were back then. The only time Bai Yiyi and I ever agreed on anything in our lives was about how foolish he was.”
Long Shiyu burst into laughter, his breath escaping in plumes, his eyes crescent-mooned with mirth.
Shen Zhaomu continued, “When I joined the guild, I attracted a lot of attention because of the Shen family behind me.”
“They must have really admired you,” Long Shiyu suggested, as a fish in his plastic bag gave a sudden leap.
“Not exactly, most of them thought I got into the headquarters because of my family.”
“Oh,” Long Shiyu remarked, “then they are big fools as well.”
Shen Zhaomu laughed, “But if you ask Yang Zhiming or Lu Shanhuai about their first impression of me, they’ll tell you it was because of that inspector.”
“Why is that?”
“Because shortly after I joined the guild, I ventured into the uninhabited lands of Mand planet.”
The uninhabited lands of Mand planet were exactly that—devoid of people. Aside from the crooked-neck trees, tumbleweeds, and the dry, yellow cracked earth, the place was teeming with exotic creatures.
Mand wasn’t particularly dangerous, but Shen Zhaomu, as a newcomer daring to go there, had caused quite a stir in the guild—everyone was waiting for him to return beaten and battered.
A week later, however, he returned unscathed and even brought back a trophy: the intact body of a man-eating great griffon.
The great griffon was handed over to the then-head of the research department, Fang Qing, who was so delighted he danced with joy and spent several nights researching it.
In the end, he didn’t come up with any new potion but instead developed a new type of poison—but that’s another story.
In any case, this feat alone was enough for Shen Zhaomu to make a name for himself again.
And upon his return, he casually submitted his “The Sage’s Week” report.
The veteran hunters didn’t give a damn about it, dismissively referring to it as “The Fool’s Week.” The novice hunters, more earnest, scratched their heads and cobbled together some elementary school-level compositions.
Shen Zhaomu submitted a neatly composed report, which, once known, sparked talk of him trying to curry favor with the inspector.
Until they saw what was being looped on the holographic screens in the hall:
“January 17th, helped an exotic creature grandma cross the crooked-neck tree.”
“January 18th, an exotic creature granny steadied me as we passed the crooked-neck tree.”
“January 19th, I helped the exotic creature grandpa across the volcano.”
“January 20th, the exotic creature grandpa steadied me as we crossed the volcano.”
…
The inspector was so infuriated he was smoking from all seven orifices.
Shen Zhaomu couldn’t have cared less about the criticism and reprimand, showing no reaction whatsoever. On the contrary, the more the inspector stewed over it, the angrier he got, until he resigned in a huff and retired to Bei’en.
And so began the legendary journey of Shen Zhaomu at the Hunters Association. With his striking talent, he quickly became a household name.
“So,” Shen Zhaomu concluded, “if a hunter calls you a ‘sage’, they’re definitely not complimenting you.”
Long Shiyu couldn’t stop laughing after hearing the story. Shen Zhaomu took a plastic bag from him and unlocked the combat ship’s barbecue grill on the rear deck—
The gridiron sprang down automatically, a small charcoal brazier extended from the wall, and after a few strange noises, it began to blaze with blue and red flames.
Beside it was an automatic seafood processor. Shen Zhaomu dumped the seafood into it, and in less than ten seconds, all the shellfish were cleaned, the fish descaled, and sliced thinly.
Bei’en’s shells were particularly plump and tender. Coupled with the top-grade procurement from the watch station, each piece of shell meat was at least the size of half a palm. Long Shiyu got to work, methodically placing them on the grill, drizzling hot oil and sprinkling chopped green onions and minced garlic into the shells, with the aroma gently wafting out soon after.
The smaller fish, not sliced, had slashes on their bodies for better flavor absorption. Once on the grill, they crackled, their flesh visibly whitening and firming at a pace visible to the naked eye. When eaten, the bones were so soft they could be swallowed with the meat.
At sea, various porridges were also favored by the sailors. If the ship broke through the ice in the cold wind, standing on the deck and sipping hot porridge made the whole world seem warmer. Especially the Bei’en chili porridge, which once set Long Shiyu’s mouth on fire with its devilishly hot chilies.
Next to the grill stood a pot of steaming porridge. Long Shiyu added several bouncy slices of large fish, a few small shells, several egg-laden female crabs, and dozens of polar prawns. With the heat turned up, it wasn’t long before a delicious pot of boiling seafood porridge was ready.
The rich aroma quickly attracted Fang Qing and Lu Shanhuai onto the deck.
It was like opening a bag of snacks in a classroom and naturally drawing classmates over.
Eventually, each person received a bowl of porridge and a few large shells. As he ate, Lu Shanhuai exclaimed, “Sis-in-law is truly virtuous.”
“Indeed,” Fang Qing agreed, scooping up porridge, “It’s just too bad that Yang Zhiming is still calibrating the diving gear.”
Lu Shanhuai covertly dished up another bowl of porridge, “Let’s just eat it up quietly and not tell him. Delicious things like this are meant to be savored alone.”
Shen Zhaomu laughed, “If you do that, aren’t you afraid he’ll mess with the oxygen levels in your tank and you’ll literally become seafood?”
“Don’t project your malicious assumptions onto honorable intentions,” Lu Shanhuai retorted, grabbing another large shell, “The feeling of enjoying a feast on public dime sure is good.”
“That’s for sure,” Fang Qing chimed in, “after all, we’re the ones who have to risk our necks for them.”
After seven or eight minutes, they finished the seafood, and the combat ship approached the mission area.
The situation was uncertain, so they didn’t immediately approach the islands the old fisherman had spoken of. Instead, they stopped in the periphery, five kilometers away from the islands, preparing for a dive of 500 meters in depth.
The timing was perfect; they had arrived just at the moment of the lowest tide.
“Prepare to dive,” said Shen Zhaomu.
The wind from the glaciers was bitterly cold, and hunters on various ships had already begun their preparations. Shen Zhaomu was about to change into his diving gear when he suddenly remembered something.
He turned to Long Shiyu and said, “Make sure you don’t wander off.”
“Understood,” Long Shiyu replied with earnest sincerity.
Shen Zhaomu was reassured.
The author has something to say:
One cutesy sob a day: 0/1
Today’s chapter is about the Sage Granny Princess vs. the Bread Dragon
Thx for the chapter
Why would you be reassured? Long Shiyu has always wandered off, especially right after promising not to.
+1
+1 it’s cute that he still believes in spite of being a hardened mighty hunter lol
The sage granny princess is too trusting of his dragon lol
lmao, when i realised that sage granny prinsese is refering to ZSM 😂
thanks for the updates!!
❤
Thank you for the update!!
But Shen Zhaomu…you should know better than to be reassured 😭
Wait, what does steadied there mean? Like they helped him back?
I love that he got Long Shiyu laughing with his story. Now they have a whole new territory for bedtime stories.