By the vast, cold Ice Sea, large sheets of ice stretched into the distance.

WHOOOO!!

Vera drove the ATV like a maniac, flooring the gas pedal and tearing across the landscape. The roar of the engine echoed along the silent shore.

The ATV sped across the snow, kicking up flurries that exploded like fireworks.

The speed was terrifying; it felt like they could lose control at any moment.

The cold sea wind howled, stinging their faces. Feng Mountain gripped the handrail tightly, staring ahead in terror. He wanted to tell Vera to slow down, but the moment he opened his mouth, the biting wind rushed in, feeling like it would freeze the saliva in his mouth into ice crystals.

Nash, sitting on the rear cargo rack, had it even worse. His face was pale, his hands clutched the edge of the rack, and his body swayed violently with every bump.

The sea wind cut across his cheeks like a knife, making it almost impossible to breathe.

At that moment, Nash was filled with fear and regret. ’I never should have gotten on this crazy ATV.’

After what felt like an eternity of suffering, the ATV finally began to slow down, coming to a stop before a snowy slope.

"It’s been a while since I had that much fun." Vera’s cheeks were flushed with excitement, and she looked like she wanted more.

’You had your fun.’

’But did you even consider how we felt?’

Feng Mountain angrily pushed open the door, but Nash was even faster. He practically flew off the cargo rack, landing on his knees with his hands braced against the ground.

BLEGH!!!

He threw up.

"Hey, Indian brother, want some dried walrus blubber? It helps with motion sickness." Vera pulled a handful of what looked like small, white bars of soap from her pocket. She tossed one into her mouth and offered the rest to Nash.

Nash just shot her a cold glance, turned his head, and continued to retch violently.

"You should probably let him rest for a bit." Feng Mountain could see this woman, Vera, was a thrill-seeker. He looked around but didn’t see the so-called walrus hunting party and couldn’t help but ask, "Where is everyone?"

Vera pointed to the snowy slope in front of them. "You’ll see them once you get over that!"

Hearing this, Feng Mountain started climbing to the top of the slope. When he reached the summit, his eyes narrowed.

On the distant, snow-covered beach, a group of people was gathered around an old bulldozer. The bulldozer was dragging something out of the Ice Sea, while on the water, people in four or five small boats raised their paddles and cheered.

"They’re...?"

"Hunting walrus. It’s a Point Laya tradition," Vera said, walking up beside Feng Mountain with a proud expression.

"What about those people? Why aren’t they helping? Are they tourists?" Feng Mountain asked, pointing to a dozen or so people at the edge of the beach who were watching the commotion with their hands in their pockets.

Them!

Vera’s gaze shifted toward them, and she spoke with indignation.

"According to the Marine Mammal Protection Act enacted by Alaska, only Alaska Indigenous People can hunt walrus. If you marry someone from outside the tribe, your bloodline is no longer pure. If your blood quantum falls below one-quarter, you lose your indigenous status. Those people don’t meet the requirement anymore, so they can only stand by and watch."

"That bullshit protection act! The Inupiat people were living on this land when those white people were still eating dirt. On what grounds are the descendants of the Inupiat people forbidden from hunting walrus?"

Feng Mountain wisely chose not to respond.

This situation had come up once before in Kivalina; it seemed to be a very common issue among the Indigenous People.

After venting her frustration, a dejected Vera walked down the slope toward the beach.

"Come on, I’ll take you to find Wawa. He was on beach patrol with Little Pete that day."

Just then, the tow rope attached to the ancient bulldozer on the beach slowly pulled taut.

A behemoth was dragged out of the sea.

As Feng Mountain got closer, a few young Inupiat men walked over and stopped Vera, arguing with her in the Inuit language.

Soon, Vera stomped back to Feng Mountain’s side. "I can’t go over there. If I get close, the hunt will be ruled invalid, and the walrus will be thrown back into the sea."

’So she’s also one of those whose bloodline doesn’t meet the one-quarter requirement.’

’No wonder she parked the ATV behind the slope and walked over.’

Feng Mountain understood.

"I already told them you’re a Sheriff, so you can go over. Tell them you’re looking for Wawa." Vera plopped down in the snow, dejectedly pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

Feng Mountain nodded. Not knowing what to say to comfort her, he walked toward the beach.

The young Inupiat men who had blocked Vera’s path looked Feng Mountain up and down. Their eyes landed on the badge on his chest, and their attitude, unlike the one they’d shown Vera, was not harsh. Instead, they greeted him with a smile.

"Hey, man. Wawa’s still on the boat. You can try some Walrus Meat while you wait for him to come ashore."

"Sounds good." Feng Mountain had been planning to absorb some Soul Power anyway, so he stood beside the bulldozer.

He watched as the walrus, the size of a small hill, was dragged onto the shore, its massive body carving a deep trench through the beach’s snow and sand.

The walrus was still alive. It let out a low, mournful cry. Several Long Spears were embedded in its body, and blood gushed from the wounds.

The surrounding Inupiat people shouted, each grabbing a Long Spear and thrusting it forcefully into the walrus.

The sharp long spears plunged into the walrus’s body again and again, staining the sand red with blood.

The walrus’s cries grew more and more piercing, but it couldn’t stop the Inuit’s attack.

With one final struggle, the walrus propped up its massive body to look back at the Ice Sea, then collapsed heavily onto the sand.

That last glance seemed filled with a deep longing and reluctance to leave the ocean.

The walrus’s massive body stopped moving, and a silence fell over the crowd.

The Inupiat people gathered silently around the walrus. There was no joy on their faces, only respect for life and the sad necessity of survival.

One of them took a stone from his pocket, placed it gently on the walrus, and touched its body while speaking in the ancient Inuit language. The others followed suit, each placing a stone.

Maria had told Feng Mountain that placing stones was a ritual the Inuit performed after a hunt.

These stones represented the Inuit’s reverence for life.

In this harsh land, the Inuit knew well how precious and fragile life was. Every kill was a reluctant act of survival.

The stones carried the Inuit’s guilt and hope—hope that the walrus’s spirit would find peace, and that nature would continue to grant them the resources to survive.

Next came the time to enjoy the harvest.

An Inupiat youth raised a long-handled scythe with a long, wide, and sharp blade.

The scythe rose high and fell, landing on the walrus’s head. The blade sliced through, severing the head from the neck.

The youth dropped the scythe and held up the walrus’s head, showing everyone its two tusks.

The surrounding crowd erupted in cheers.

Then, two young Inupiat men came forward with sharp knives and began to skin the walrus, separating the lean meat from the organs. Someone else walked over to ask for some walrus fat.

The young man doing the butchering grinned. With a swift cut, he sliced off a large piece from the pure white fat—a chunk weighing a good half-pound—and handed it over.

The man took the walrus fat and bit off a large mouthful, chewing as grease satisfyingly trickled from the corner of his mouth. He then passed the fat to a fellow tribesman beside him.

It was passed from person to person, each taking a bite, and soon the piece of walrus fat was gone.

Feng Mountain watched calmly from the side. He had seen enough of this kind of scene in Kivalina. At least they weren’t crazy enough to eat the walrus eyes.

Still, he had obtained the walrus’s Soul Power. The amount it contained was equivalent to nearly half a boatload of whitefish.

"Wawa, the Sheriff is looking for you!" shouted the youth who was keeping order.

Hearing this title, all the Inupiat people on the scene froze for a moment, turning their heads in unison to look at the unfamiliar face of Feng Mountain.

A short young man with short hair, holding a knife, walked out of the crowd and stood before Feng Mountain with a puzzled expression.

"You’re the Sheriff? What do you want with me? I haven’t caused any trouble recently."

Feng Mountain shook his head. "It’s not about you. I’m here to investigate Little Pete’s case from two years ago and ask a few questions."

Little Pete!

Wawa’s expression instantly darkened. He gripped the knife in his hand. "Damn it! A two-year-old case, and they’re only starting the investigation now? You people are the real murderers! Why are you only here now, you bastards!"

"Hey, hey, calm down, man. I’m not a government investigator." Feng Mountain had no intention of taking the blame for that. He pointed to the badge on his chest. "I’m the Crown Land Chief, and also the new Sheriff for your village."

’Our village’s new Sheriff.’

Wawa’s dark expression turned to one of astonishment. "When did that happen? How come I don’t know anything about it?"

"Half a month ago. Now, let’s talk about Little Pete." Feng Mountain was in no mood to explain the same thing over and over again. He wanted to solve the case quickly; he had guests waiting for him back home.

"Alright, Mr. Sheriff." Wawa nodded and pointed to the stretch of beach before them. "This beach is Point Laya’s hunting ground, and it’s also a resting spot for migrating walruses. According to the regulations, our village has a quota of 30 walruses per year, but during the migration, we’re also responsible for protecting the safety of the walrus herds."

"That day, Little Pete and I were on patrol out on the water. We heard gunshots coming from the ice floe area, so we took the boat over to check it out. When we got near the floe, Little Pete didn’t wait for me and got onto the ice by himself. Then, there were more gunshots."

"By the time I found Little Pete, he’d been shot three times, with one bullet to the heart. I should have stopped him. If we had gone together, this wouldn’t have happened." Wawa plunged his knife into the sand with bitter regret.

"You didn’t see the killer?" Feng Mountain was curious. An ice floe could only be so big. Given the time it would take to kill someone and leave, Wawa definitely should have had a chance to see them.

Wawa shook his head angrily. "They were fast. We found the shooting position and realized they were hiding at the edge of the ice floe. It seems like they fired a shot on purpose to lure us over. After shooting, they took off from the floe area in a boat. Our wooden boat couldn’t possibly catch up."

"Was it a personal enemy?" Feng Mountain continued to ask.

Wawa’s eyes blazed with fury as he spoke through gritted teeth.

"Not an enemy. It had to be Poachers. Point Laya is the largest resting spot for the walrus migration. At peak times, more than ten thousand walruses pass through. Poachers slaughter them indiscriminately. They’ll dig out the Walrus Ivory, skin them, and just discard the meat."

"We hunt walrus too, but we do it to survive. Those Poachers, they just kill for the sake of killing. They don’t even spare the small, tuskless calves."

’Alright then...’

Poachers were a species despised by everyone in the entire Far North Tundra.

Feng Mountain was now wondering how he was supposed to find the killer.

’Little Pete’s been dead for two years. I can’t just dig up his bones.’

’What a headache!’

....