9 PM, Communications Room.
When Jiang Luo arrived, Daniel was the only one there. The young man was distractedly fiddling with the equipment. As soon as he heard footsteps, he turned around and lit up. “Sir, you came!”
Jiang Luo had changed clothes. He took off his jacket and draped it over his arm, then sat beside Daniel. He rested his head lazily on his hand, black hair cascading like a stream over the desk, silver light glinting in his eyes. He smiled warmly. “Good evening.”
Daniel blushed slightly. “Good evening.”
Feeling uneasy in Jiang Luo’s presence, he asked Daniel to explain the equipment in the communications room. He did so in great detail, though his gaze kept sneaking glances at Jiang Luo. Jiang Luo didn’t mind at first—he quietly tried to reconnect with the police ship’s signal. But then he noticed that Daniel kept wiping his mouth again and again as he looked at him.
Jiang Luo knew he was good-looking, but surely not to the point of making someone drool?
He turned his head, feigning casualness as he asked, “Daniel, how long does your shift last?”
Daniel held a cup in his hands. Under Jiang Luo’s gaze, he gulped down a mouthful of water. “I’m on duty until midnight, sir. Are you feeling sleepy?”
Jiang Luo kept sensing Daniel’s gaze flitting around his arms and neck. He raised his hand slightly—his forearm smooth and tight, its contours flowing under the light like cold jade.
Daniel swallowed again, staring intently at Jiang Luo’s arm.
He looked very hungry.
In just the short while Jiang Luo had been in the communication room, Daniel had nearly finished an entire large cup of water. Jiang Luo glanced at the cup in his hands. “You’re very thirsty?”
Daniel smiled sheepishly. “Yes.”
Without letting it show, Jiang Luo put his coat back on and decided to give up on the radio for now. “It’s getting late. I am a little tired. Daniel, I’ll be heading off first. See you tomorrow.”
Daniel looked disappointed and tried to keep him, “Sir, won’t you stay a little longer?”
Before Jiang Luo could respond, Daniel stood and said evasively, “I’ll just get another glass of water… Sir, would you wait here for me?”
It was like food being brought to the edge of a starving man’s mouth—Jiang Luo hadn’t expected such a perfect chance to come. Raising an eyebrow, he smiled and agreed. Daniel hurried past him. The moment the comms room was empty, Jiang Luo began operating the radio equipment. But no matter how he tried to connect, all he got was a busy signal.
What’s going on? Jiang Luo leaned forward and lifted the radio device—only to find that all the cords in the back had already been pulled out.
His expression darkened. Grim-faced, he quickly left the communication room.
On either side of the corridor were a row of workrooms and a dormitory for the on-duty crew.
As Jiang Luo passed by the dormitory, he noticed the door wasn’t shut, just left ajar.
Inside was pitch black, and a familiar fishy smell wafted out, immediately catching his attention. He peered inside. Loud snores echoed out from within. Frowning, Jiang Luo quietly stepped inside.
Only one person was sleeping on the top bunk.
After a few seconds, his eyes adjusted to the dark, and he could see the room’s layout. Two sets of bunks were placed against the left wall. On the right side were two desks. In the faint moonlight, he could just make out a desk lamp and a diary lying on one of them.
The person sleeping on the upper bunk by the door had wrapped himself completely in his blanket, and only loud snores echoed throughout the room.
Jiang Luo tiptoed to the desk and opened the diary.
On the first page, four words were written: Sailing Log.
He flipped through quickly. The early entries were standard work notes—Jiang Luo skimmed them. But as he turned a few more pages, his expression changed. After a few seconds of reading, his brows furrowed. He quickly flipped through the rest—every page had the same repeated phrase:
“So hungry, so hungry, so hungry…”
What did this mean?
Why had the first half been normal, and then suddenly devolved into nothing but those two words?
Jiang Luo couldn’t make sense of it. But then, all of a sudden, he froze.
The snoring—he didn’t know when it had stopped.
Holding his breath, Jiang Luo turned his head, and saw that the person on the upper bunk had sat up at some point. The white blanket still covered his head, his face hidden, but his body was now turned—facing directly toward Jiang Luo.
Jiang Luo’s heart skipped a beat. He carefully moved toward the door—but from outside came the sound of footsteps.
Trapped from both sides, Jiang Luo cursed silently. He quickly scanned the room for somewhere to hide, then dropped to the floor and rolled under the lower bunk.
Just as he settled into position, a pair of legs walked into the room.
The uniforms and shoes of the crew were all the same, but Jiang Luo recognized these shoes—they had a few drops of oil on them, stains Daniel had gotten while explaining the equipment earlier.
Daniel’s voice came, “Sanya, did you see anyone leave through the door?”
From the bunk above came a reply: “Probably. I was asleep, but I smelled something new.”
The voice was strange—thick, muffled, as though clogged with mucus.
Daniel’s steps moved from the door to the desk. The rustling of clothes suggested he was undressing. “Get up soon. Your shift’s about to start.”
Sanya said, “I know.”
The bunk above Jiang Luo shook violently—it seemed the man above was climbing down. From the intensity of the shaking, it was clear he was strong and heavy.
Daniel sat down on the lower bunk, still undressing. Jiang Luo calmed his breathing, making sure not to make a sound.
But then Daniel’s movements paused. He sniffed the air.
“There’s a human scent in here.”
Sanya replied, “I smelled it too. Thought I was imagining things.”
Jiang Luo’s eye twitched.
Just those few lines were enough to confirm—they weren’t human.
But he had no time to dwell on it. Jiang Luo clenched his fists, body tense, ready for anything.
He stared out from under the bed—only to meet a pair of pale, fish-like eyes.
A grotesque, humanoid-fish head was bent over, peering under the bed. Slime dripped from its scalp as it stared directly at Jiang Luo.
Jiang Luo: “…”
He froze, instinctively preparing to roll out from under the bed. But the next second, he realized—
Those fish-eyes didn’t seem to see him at all.
The monster sniffed the air and muttered, “The smell under the bed is the strongest.”
It was Daniel’s voice, but it sounded strange now. As if his throat were filled with mucus—his vocal cords trembling, dragging the muscles of his throat along, causing the mucus to drip even faster.
He reached a hand under the bed. It still looked human. Jiang Luo crawled deeper under the bed to avoid his fingers. Daniel didn’t touch anything, and a confused look appeared on his terrifying fish face. The other monster spoke up in dissatisfaction: “Let me do it.”
While they were speaking, Jiang Luo had already crawled to the underside of another bunk.
He no longer stayed hidden under the bed but crawled out as quietly as possible, making no sound, and stood up silently.
Moonlight illuminated the two monsters crouching by the bed.
One was a black fish with limbs—its entire body smooth, eyes bulging from the sides of its head. It looked like a grotesque hybrid of human and fish, slimy and utterly horrifying.
Daniel looked equally terrifying. His head had transformed into that of a fish, though the rest of his body still appeared human.
The stench of fish came off them in waves. Jiang Luo suppressed the urge to gag and steadied himself against the bed—but touched a handful of sticky liquid on the sheets.
He turned his head and realized that every bed was stained with the same slime.
None of the crew in this room were human.
“Daniel, looks like there’s nothing under the bed.”
Then one of the monsters said, “Maybe you brought the human scent back with you when you came in?”
“I haven’t eaten anyone yet,” Daniel pounded the ground in frustration, furious. “When I got back, the person was already gone.”
“Hold on a bit longer,” said Sanya. “Our work is exhausting and thankless. It’s not our turn to eat meat yet. Once the fry hatch and the females are eaten by the rich, those vessels will be useless—we’ll be able to eat them all. Hopefully this year we can hatch more fry. Our eggs are so hard to keep alive, and they only like growing inside human bellies.”
“Out of a hundred fish fry, not one becomes a surviving blood eel. And among a hundred blood eels, only one is a female. The nutrition in commoners’ bodies is still lacking. I heard they said the fry hadn’t even hatched yet, and the vessels already died off—useless humans.”
Jiang Luo listened in silence. The information in just a few short lines made his head spin. He slowed his breathing, doing his best to erase his presence.
A gust of wind blew in from outside the window.
The two monsters suddenly raised their heads and sniffed toward Jiang Luo’s direction. “Strange, the scent came from over there.”
“Yeah,” Daniel drooled as he spoke, wiping his mouth and swallowing hungrily, “That’s the scent of a human.”
Jiang Luo felt a jolt of alarm. In the next second, the two humanoid monsters moved toward him. Jiang Luo quickly unzipped his coat and flung it toward a corner. As soon as the zipper clattered on the ground, the two fish-human monsters lunged at the sound.
There was nothing there—but it didn’t stop them from viciously tearing at the empty spot. Jiang Luo took the chance to dart past them and bolted out the door.
The monsters turned toward the doorway, drool dripping from their mouths. “The human escaped.”
They followed the scent and rushed out the door.
Jiang Luo sprinted straight to the deck. It was deep into the night—no lights on the deck, no people. The pale moonlight shimmered on the surface of the sea.
Behind him, the humanoid monsters moved with terrifying speed and had an acute sense of smell. They chased relentlessly. Sweat beaded on Jiang Luo’s forehead. As he rounded a corner, a small hand suddenly reached out from the shadows and grabbed his shirt.
Jiang Luo looked down—surprised to find it was the captain’s daughter, Lisa. She grabbed his hand and ran with her head down in another direction. After a moment’s hesitation, Jiang Luo followed her.
Soon, Lisa led him to a tightly shut door. Together, they opened it and slipped inside.
The moment Jiang Luo stepped in, he felt the floor squelch beneath his feet—covered in a slick, sticky substance.
His expression changed. Lisa tugged on his sleeve and whispered, “Big brother, don’t speak. Lie down and roll on the ground. Once your body is covered in the slime, they won’t be able to smell you.”
Jiang Luo did as she said. Then he held Lisa in his arms and stood by the door, warily peeking through the peephole.
Lisa stayed quietly on his shoulder, not making a sound.
Outside, a skinless fish-man monster dragged its slimy body past the door. It kept sniffing the air, lingering at the threshold for a few seconds—then left, hesitantly.
Jiang Luo let out a silent breath of relief. He sat down beside the door, holding Lisa close, and asked softly, “Lisa, where are we? How did you know that covering yourself in the slime would hide you from the monsters?”
Lisa fidgeted with her fingers and stayed quiet for a moment before replying, “Big brother, this is my dad’s room.”
She looked up at Jiang Luo, eyes filled with fear. “I don’t know why, but he turned into something really scary. Sometimes, he even drools when he looks at me. Only when I hide here… it’s like he can’t see me.”
