The crimson moon hung high in the sky. Caine knelt down beside Tanah and Danton, the two siblings. Cecil, his female companion from Krivis, visibly exhaled, took up the rifle from the deck, bent slightly forward, and hurried off in another direction, still maintaining a distance of about ten meters from the pig and cattle entrails scattered with pepper grains. "Uncle, shall we begin?" Tanah, the lively girl with a charming patch of freckles, suddenly seemed a bit nervous, yet her face was filled with curiosity and anticipation. Caine raised his left index finger to his lips, signaling the two young ones to remain silent. At such moments, he often found himself grateful to Rosel—thanks to this elder traveler's efforts, his habitual gestures had become widely recognized and understood across the North Continent, avoiding any misinterpretations. It was said in the early Fifth Age that in Ruon, the gesture of "silence" conveyed insult, while in certain regions of the South Continent, it meant "kiss me"—Caine's thoughts momentarily drifted off. Dana and Danton dared not speak, remaining quietly crouched there, intently watching Clevish make his pre-battle preparations. The former adventurer picked up a crane line and cast out a silk line attached with pig and cow offal. A soft splash as the bait entered the water. Clevish calmly dispersed the remaining offal, then took up his weapons and stepped back one step at a time, retreating to the shadow opposite Cecil, forming a roughly 60-degree angle between the two of them and the crane line fixed to the hull. Once he had secured his trihedral spears and other weapons, he raised his rifle and tested his aim. The deck fell utterly silent, save for the steady hum of the steam engine and the rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the ship. Time passed in measured increments, and Dana and Danton, growing restless, shifted from crouching to sitting, leaning against the wooden bulkhead to ease the numbness in their legs. At that moment, they noticed the crane line on the hull dipping slightly. A deep, rushing friction sound rose swiftly, drawing nearer, and then—suddenly—a figure leapt onto the deck. It was a monster bathed in crimson moonlight, its entire body covered in deep green scales flowing with a pale, bluish mucus. Unlike humans, it resembled a massive fish that had grown sturdy limbs, with distinct flaps of webbing visible between its hands and feet. Standing over one meter and ninety centimeters tall, it had round, bulging eyes and gills extending from its cheeks—its appearance akin to a mythical monster from legend. Donna reached out, instinctively covering her mouth to stifle her natural gasp, and at the same time, she gently covered her brother Danton’s mouth. Clay smiled to himself, mentally noting that the creature was conscious. Unlike the "sailors" he had previously encountered who had lost control, this true fish-being had no human-like head—purely monstrous. The creature scanned its surroundings with cautious alertness before slowly crouching down, picking up the scattered pig and cow organs scattered on the ground and quickly stuffing them into its mouth, making clear chewing sounds. The white of its eyes gradually dimmed, as though drifting into a dream. Intelligence isn't high... Caine shook his head, offering his assessment. Bang! Krivis pulled the trigger, and a bullet shot forth from the rifle, striking the merman squarely in the chest and abdomen, shattering scales and splattering flesh. "Ah!" the merman cried out, a sound like a child's sharp wail, extending both hands and rushing toward Krivis, fast as a steam train. At the same time, Cecil opened fire from the other position. Bang! A rifle bullet struck the merman's side ribs, scattering fragments and causing his tall form to stagger. The merman, now affected by the pepper grains, exhibited visible sluggishness, halting in place, uncertain of which enemy to address first. This gave Krivis and Cecil the opportunity to reload calmly. They repositioned and took aim, firing in sequence. Bang! Bang! Two blooms of blood unfolded, restoring clarity to the merman's gaze. It rolled and surged, evading the subsequent volleys of fire, and approached Cleviss as if uninjured. Cleviss methodically set down his rifle and picked up the trihedral spear leaning against the side. Instead of retreating, he advanced, leaping forward and rolling to the fishman's side, driving his spear with both strength and precision into the broken scales at the side ribs of the prey. The fishman spun violently, sending a gust of wind that hurled both the spear and Cleviss into the air, landing the former adventurer with a thud on the deck. The fishman shook its head, clearly feeling acute discomfort, and then ceased attacking Cleviss and Cecil, stepping steadily toward the hull, intent on leaping into the sea. Thwack! Cecil's bullet struck it again, blossoming a crimson bloom, yet it still retained its mobility. Taking two more steps, the fishman reached the ideal position, bent its knees, and prepared to leap. Yet, as its body went limp, it failed to generate sufficient force and only managed to fall short, landing on the inner side of the ship's hull. Thud! The fishman, bearing the wounds from the rifle, strained to leap over the hull. Just as it seemed poised to escape, Kline drew his revolver. At that very moment, a tremendous thud echoed from the opposite direction! The fishman's left eye instantly turned blood-red, revealing a pale, gelatinous mass pulsing within. It was still alive, lying in the ship's cabin area, desperately crawling to regain its footing. A few seconds later, the toxicity surged, and it convulsed, finally succumbing to death. Kline turned toward the sound and spotted a middle-aged man stepping out from the shadow leading into the cabin. The man wore a thick, dark red coat, loose white trousers, and a standard ship-shaped hat of the era. In his hands, he carried an outdated iron-handled pistol, its thick, dark barrel emitting a steady plume of white smoke. Klein had heard the waiter introduce him to this man before, and knew him to be Captain Elran Cag of the White Chalcedony. Elran, with evident lines of wrinkles around his eyes, forehead, and mouth, approached Crivels with a gentle smile. "As a captain, I must ensure nothing unexpected happens," he said. "Please forgive me for having stayed by the side the entire time." Crivels had already risen, showing no outward emotion. "This is your ship. By custom, you are entitled to share in the prize." Elran glanced briefly at Klein and the others, then smiled warmly. "Next time we'll deliver fresh water and food will be in two days—until then, you'll have to find your own way to preserve the fishmen's bodies. How about this? I'll take it at a reduced price, and the difference shall count as my due compensation." "That's the best arrangement," Crivels said, exchanging a glance with Cecil, and agreed to Elran's proposal. "Just 130 pounds—the entire vessel is yours." "The extraordinary materials on the fishman's body are priced between 150 and 200 pounds; considering the other spiritually endowed parts, 130 pounds is indeed quite reasonable... Nevertheless, the Crevisses can only do so, since it's Elan's ship, with a large contingent of armed sailors and crew supporting him—should things fall apart, they could sink everyone present in the sea within minutes... of course, provided I don't get involved. Well, it's clear that Crevisses and Cecil aren't extraordinary, at least not in the realms of combat or marksmanship; Elan, on the other hand, seems a bit suspect. Kline stood up, listening quietly to the negotiations. 'No, I think you've misunderstood me—I'm not threatening you. 150 pounds is a fair price,' Elan Cag called for a sailor and handed him the key to the safe. 'Are you indeed "Elan the Just"?' Cecil seemed to finally recall the sailor's nickname from the sea. Elan smiled and said, 'Yes.'" At that moment, Donna and Dan-ton, still stunned by the fierce battle and the living monsters, jumped up and ran excitedly toward the fish person, gathering close to its body. "It's really dead?" Donna tapped the fish person's body with the tip of her foot, then leapt back in fear, as if afraid it might rise again, and took shelter behind her brother. "It's truly a monster!" Dan-ton exhaled, eyes wide. "There are many monsters at sea. In fact, it shouldn't be called a fish person. Besides having four limbs and the ability to stand upright, it has no other similarities to humans. I'd rather call it a fish monster." Elran smiled gently. He then knelt down, pulled out a small knife, and sliced open the fish person's cheek just below the eyes, revealing fresh, pale flesh lightly streaked with red. "The most delicious part of the fish person—perfect for raw consumption." "Alain carefully cut off a thin slice and offered it to Tanah," said he, "You remind me of my daughter. Unfortunately, she has grown up and now has her own family." "I... I'm not sure I can eat it," Tanah said, looking at the thin piece of meat still held at the tip of the knife. "Ha! Who here would like to give it a try?" Alain smiled and glanced around. After confirming that his spiritual intuition offered no warnings, Kline nodded: "I'm curious." Alain immediately handed him the knife: "Try it. On land, even nobles may not always have the chance to taste it." "This isn't a merfolk—it's a fish monster, essentially a mutated fish." He was easing the fears of the two siblings. Kline had intended to ask if there were any condiments, like mayonnaise or soy sauce, but seeing that the others didn't mention them, he hesitated, not wanting to appear unrefined. He took the knife, bit into the fresh, blood-stained slice of meat, and swallowed it. It was a sensation like melting in the mouth—the blood flavor was faint, with a well-balanced saltiness that perfectly complemented the freshness and sweetness of the meat. Kline chewed twice, and found the tenderness and deliciousness of the fish beyond anything he had ever experienced. "Excellent," he said, raising his thumb with genuine enthusiasm. Krivis saw Elan finish off the last piece, then pointed to the fishman's body. "The meat on the sides is best fried; the belly meat is ideal for grilling; the rest is rather unremarkable." "Exactly what I thought," Elan chuckled. "I'll have the chef prepare it right away. What a pleasant evening—to share a delicious meal, enjoy fine wine, and exchange tales from the sea." Full of anticipation... yet, why had a perfectly good hunting expedition turned into a dinner gathering? Klein swallowed a lump of saliva.