Crates of weighed Gray-eyed Snow Crabs were loaded onto flatbed carts and hauled into the processing plant. The bustling pier could finally quiet down.

The crabbing boat crews couldn’t hide the smiles on their faces as they received the slips from their captains. Each thin piece of paper represented a handsome income.

Gathering in twos and threes, they discussed their hauls from the sea, some boasting, others feeling disgruntled.

"Let’s go get a drink! A week out at sea, I was about to go crazy."

"I’m going home to take a good, long shower."

"Damn it, the *Brenda* found a crab nest. They hauled in 5,000 pounds of gray-eyes this trip, and our boat barely got 2,000."

"Hey buddy, why don’t you come over to our boat, the *Brenda*? Captain Rondo’s got a real sharp eye."

"Nah, Old Hughes is a good guy. If I leave, he won’t have anyone left to count on."

.....

As they passed Feng Mountain’s group of three, the crewmen cast curious glances their way.

Dressed in animal hide coats with tattoos on their faces, they were recognizable at a glance as Northern People.

How strange.

’What were Northern People doing on Saint Paul Island?’

’Could they have come for the snow crabs?’

The crewmen conversed in low, amused voices.

Just then, Feng Mountain felt the Soul Power he was gathering from the processing plant gradually dwindle, then stop completely.

’It seems such an enormous amount of Soul Power is related to the snow crabs,’ he thought. ’And yet, the divination pointing to the murderer is still fixed on the pier.’

’This means the murderer’s last known location was right here at the pier.’

’If I can’t find him, it must mean he went out to sea.’

Originally, Feng Mountain had been in a hurry to catch the murderer and return to the Crown Territory. But now, he wasn’t rushed. With a massive amount of Soul Power ripe for the picking, it would be foolish not to take it.

As for the murderer, as long as the divination could lock onto him, he could be caught even if he fled to the ends of the earth.

Just then, a fisherman with a large nose walked straight toward the three of them, though he had a slight limp.

"Hey, fellas!"

"Something we can help you with?" Feng Mountain raised an eyebrow, while Nash’s hand moved toward his coat.

Seeing this, the large-nosed fisherman quickly raised his hands, cursing inwardly. ’No wonder they say Northern People are so barbaric. Just saying hello makes them reach for their weapons.’

"Sorry, I’m a sport fisherman from Saint Paul. I came over to ask if you’re interested in going to the Bering Sea to fish for halibut."

"What’s the fee?" Feng Mountain knew full well there was no such thing as a free lunch.

The large-nosed fisherman grinned. "300 US Dollar a person. I’ve got three spots left on my boat."

"Want to go for fun?" Feng Mountain turned to look at Nash and Wawa. The former wore a deadpan expression, while the latter seemed interested, but the 300 US Dollar ticket price made him a little hesitant.

"Fellas, if you catch any halibut and don’t want them, you can sell them to me. It’s like earning your ticket price back," the large-nosed fisherman added quickly, afraid the deal would fall through, trying to dispel their reservations.

Heh.

’Not a bad business model.’

’Pay 300 US Dollar for a ticket, and you can sell any fish you catch back to him.’

’You don’t lose out either way.’

Feng Mountain smiled. "Alright, the three of us will go."

"The sport fishing boats are over there. This is the Merchant Fishing Pier; small boats can’t dock here." The large-nosed fisherman, Alvin, smiled and pointed to a small bay next to the pier.

As he spoke, he led the three of them off the boardwalk. Nearby crewmen, smoking and chatting idly, laughed and called out.

"Alvin, found some free labor to go fishing for halibut again, have you?"

"He’s still hoping to rope in enough tourists to buy another crabbing boat."

"Hey fellas, watch out for Alvin! He’ll use you as bait and toss you into the Bering Sea!"

"You pack of morons, Jesus will curse you!" The large-nosed Alvin hatefully raised a fist, which was met with a roar of laughter from the other fishermen.

From the fishermen’s banter, Feng Mountain seemed to have picked up on something.

After leaving the Merchant Fishing Pier, he asked curiously.

"You used to have another fishing boat?"

The large-nosed Alvin admitted frankly, "That’s right. I used to own a crabbing boat, the *Catherine II*. Unfortunately, we ran into a storm. The ship was sunk by the waves, and I lost a fortune. This leg was injured in that disaster, too."

"But don’t you worry, the *Petrovna* is very safe. We only do sport fishing near the coast."

Soon, Feng Mountain’s group followed Alvin to the bay. It was filled with small sport fishing boats, and quite a few tourists were gathered there, all seemingly preparing to head out to sea to fish.

Alvin greeted the other captains familiarly and led the trio to a sport fishing boat docked by the pier. Three other tourists were already on board, having waited for some time.

"Alright folks, put on your life jackets. Sometimes they can save your life—though not your leg, of course."

’Is that a lesson learned from personal experience?’

Feng Mountain took the life jackets and handed them to Nash and Wawa.

Once ready, they hopped aboard. The other three tourists seemed unwilling to talk to Feng Mountain’s group and moved to the other side of the boat.

’As if we wanted to talk to you anyway.’

It just so happened that one side of the sport fishing boat could fit three people. They could all do their own thing, live and let live.

Feng Mountain took the initiative and led Nash and Wawa to the other side of the boat.

"Everyone, we’re casting off!" the large-nosed Alvin called out, steering the sport fishing boat away from the pier and toward the vast, boundless Bering Sea.

This was Feng Mountain’s third time out at sea. The first two times had been in the Chukchi Sea.

Because the Chukchi Sea was frozen over for the winter, its surface hadn’t been rough.

But the Bering Sea was different.

Here, the waves surged violently, like a herd of wild beasts stampeding at will.

The sea wind howled, carrying a bone-chilling cold that made it almost impossible to stand firm.

The seawater was a deep blue, its swells constantly churning and cresting into layered waves.

The boat rocked violently in the waves, making one feel dizzy and disoriented.

Feng Mountain gripped the gunwale tightly, struggling to keep his balance.

Wawa, having grown up by the sea, could handle the impact of the waves. But Nash, who was from the Inland Region, was miserable. The boat’s tossing was even more intense than turbulence on an airplane.

Not long after they left the bay, Nash was leaning over the side of the boat, retching loudly.

"Buddy, puke in the sea, not on the boat!" Alvin called out loudly, poking his head out of the pilothouse at the stern.

The sport fishing boat passed through the waves and arrived in a calmer patch of sea, where several other boats of the same size were also stopped.

Alvin dropped anchor, then came out onto the deck with the fishing rods and bait bucket he had prepared earlier.

"This is the halibut fishing spot. May Jesus bless you with a full catch."

Feng Mountain had done plenty of fishing in the Crown Territory. As for the difference between freshwater and saltwater fishing, he didn’t think there was much of one. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

He casually picked a rod. Not only was the rod thick, but the line was also heavy-gauge, and the lead sinker was the size of a fist.

The bait was live shrimp.

He baited the hook, swung the rod, and cast it out.

After the bait hit the water, the sinker pulled it rapidly down to the seabed.

The next step was to secure the rod to the gunwale and wait for a bite.

Nash and Wawa also cast out their bait, looking like they knew what they were doing.

While they waited, Alvin would occasionally come over to help check on things. After all, his six passengers had paid, and if they sold their fish to him, he could earn another tidy sum.

During the boring wait, Feng Mountain started chatting with Alvin about fishing profits.

He learned that the profit margin on halibut was ridiculously high.

Alvin had once earned at least 200,000 yuan in a single week at sea, but compared to crabbing, it wasn’t even in the same league.

Feng Mountain’s eyes lit up.

’200,000 in a week, that’s 800,000 a month, and almost 10 million a year.’

’I could pay off the loan in two years.’

’This is way faster money than hosting tourists.’

Seeing his expression, Alvin guessed what Feng Mountain was thinking and quickly tried to dissuade him.

"Feng, commercial halibut fishing is one of the most strictly regulated fisheries in the world. The profits are high, but the risks are extremely high too. You’re not just facing the dangers of the ocean, but also regulations, equipment costs... Sometimes a catch fails, and you lose everything."

"I’m the perfect example. Don’t ever try to get into commercial fishing."

"Thanks, I’ll think about it," Feng Mountain said with a nod.

’Your face is screaming "interested." Think about it my ass!’

Just as Alvin was about to offer more words of caution, the three tourists on the other side of the boat suddenly grabbed their rods and started shouting.

Alvin hurried over to help.

As the reel turned and the line was slowly reeled in, a large, dark brown fish surfaced. Standing nearby, Alvin grabbed a gaff, thrust it down forcefully, and hauled a half-meter-long halibut onto the deck.

The three tourists yelled excitedly, taking out their phones to snap all sorts of pictures, as if afraid Feng Mountain’s group didn’t know they’d caught a fish.

The dying halibut flopped around on the deck, revealing its bright white belly.

’Man, this fish really is ugly.’

’Both of its eyes are on the right side of its body, and its mouth is on the right side too.’

Alvin took out a small knife and quickly began to bleed the halibut, removing its internal organs while also sharing some knowledge with his guests.

"Folks, halibut are deep-sea fish. The intense pressure change when they’re pulled from the water causes lactic acid to build up in their muscles. Bleeding them helps maintain the fish’s freshness."

"You have to bleed a halibut while it’s still alive for the meat to be as white as jade and free of any fishy taste."

As he spoke, Alvin skillfully used his knife to remove the halibut’s guts. With a few swift cuts—SWISH, SWISH—he separated the flesh and placed it on a paper plate.

Just as he’d said, the flesh was like a piece of warm, lustrous jade, with a fine, even, and clear texture.

Feng Mountain and the others gathered around to get a closer look at the white flesh.

"Have a taste!" Alvin offered the plate to the three tourists. After all, it was their catch, so it was only right they got the first bite.

After trying it, the tourists gave a thumbs-up and praised it repeatedly, then told Alvin to offer some to Feng Mountain’s group.

It was clear now that the three just didn’t like talking to strangers; they weren’t intentionally discriminating against the group.

Feng Mountain, who wasn’t particularly fond of raw fish, reluctantly picked up a slice and put it in his mouth in the face of Alvin’s warm hospitality.

The moment the meat touched his taste buds, it brought an instantaneous sensation of delicacy and umami.

Its texture was tender and juicy, as if it were melting in his mouth.

There was none of the fishiness he had expected, only the pure taste of the ocean spreading through his mouth.

Feng Mountain looked at Alvin and gave a satisfied smile. "It’s delicious."

"Of course. Bering Sea halibut is the best-tasting fish there is," Alvin said with a wide grin.

They went back to fishing.

However, it seemed Jesus Christ was deliberately messing with Feng Mountain today.

The three tourists on the other side of the boat were catching fish one after another, while on his side, they hadn’t gotten a single bite. The line hadn’t even twitched. When he pulled up his bait to check, the shrimp had drowned.

Alvin also looked troubled.

’I’ve taken their money, but the customers aren’t catching any fish.’

’Just the width of a boat between them, but two totally different outcomes.’

’I’ll be damned.’

.....