Chapter 277: 53. Flying Fish
Fisher’s gaze fell upon the distant, swaying wooden ship on the ocean. The weather was fine; Captain Alagina had just left a short while ago, and Fisher swaggered to the back of the hotel where he met Jesse, but he didn’t see him around. It seemed Jesse had gone to set up a stall at the Magic Market.
So Fisher paid two gold coins to have a hotel servant fetch Jesse from the Magic Market, while he remained with Emhart the book, observing the situation of that ship.
The ship was currently being watched over by a local gang from Pat Sulshen Island, but it wasn’t particularly tight security. According to Jesse, the Flying Fish had been detained by them for quite some time. Even if they wanted to extract something from this exploratory ship that had sailed many places, their patience had long been worn down by time.
“Fisher, Fisher! I sense it! That book is on the deck below, at the back of the ship, and I feel there’s more than one because the smell of knowledge is so strong. I can’t imagine what it would mean if such a rich scent is in one book. Could it contain some earth-shattering secret?”
Fisher didn’t respond to Emhart’s excitement; instead, he contemplated whether to leave a clear trail for Elizabeth. After some thought, he assessed that given Elizabeth’s degree of familiarity with him, being too conspicuous would rather increase her suspicions. It wouldn’t be good if she decided to turn her ire on Alagina, who had already left.
“Don’t worry, if everything goes smoothly, we will leave Pat Sulshen Island with this ship tonight. After that, you can observe however you wish, but until then—”
“Sir, the person you were looking for has been brought here. If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back to my duties at the hotel.”
Fisher turned to glance at the elderly Jesse brought over by the hotel. He still appeared quite intoxicated during the day, and upon hearing the servant’s voice, he impatiently shoved the hand that had been placed on him away, muttering,
“What do you want? My things are still at the market; what if they get lost? What is it… Wait, it’s you?! Why are you still here and didn’t leave with the Iceberg Queen?!”
Jesse looked at Fisher in disbelief. The commotion when the Iceberg Queen left Pat Sulshen Island that morning was considerable, and he thought Fisher had reneged on his word and left after not informing Alagina about his ship. Jesse had even drunk a bit to drown his sorrows that morning, never expecting to see Fisher alone here.
“Don’t we still have some unfinished business regarding your Flying Fish?”
“…When the Iceberg Queen was still here, there might have been a chance. Now, forget it. My ship has been seized by the island gang. They won’t hand over the engine key without gold; do you expect to single-handedly charge in and kill them all to snatch the key?”
Jesse didn’t know Fisher well and certainly didn’t believe he could retrieve his Flying Fish by himself. In truth, local gangs usually wouldn’t be equipped with powerful magic; combined with his magic and an eighth-tier physique, Fisher could confidently wipe out the entire gang.
But he had a quieter way to take the key, which didn’t require this risky approach.
“You just need to tell me where they placed the ship’s key. I’ll take care of the rest. Once I have the key, promise me two things: take me to the Northern Region, and let my friend with this book read some of the books you have on board.”
Emhart, on Fisher’s shoulder, restrained the impulse to leap up, merely clearing his throat with poise and then revealing a very satisfied expression towards Fisher, as if to say, “You have not let me down for all the cultivation I’ve provided you.”
Jesse, before him, looked oddly at Fisher, who stood there alone—oh, along with a book—and expressed doubts about whether Fisher would manage to steal back his ship.
“You want to sneak out with the key? No way, that won’t work at all. They have other boats. Look, those small boats by the coast. My Flying Fish was the fastest ship back then, but many years have passed; she’s grown old just like me.”
“All you need to do is tell me if you agree to my deal.”
“…Fine. If you can rescue my ship from those guys, I will keep my promise and take you to the Northern Region. You can also look at the books I have stored on the shelves. By the way, the key is likely in their accounting room, in that house by the coast. Do you see it? I’ll warn you, the leader of the Valen gang is quite stingy, and usually sleeps in the accounting room, so be careful.”
Jesse pointed toward a building at the far coast to indicate the direction for Fisher. Fisher nodded and instructed Jesse to wait for him here tonight. He would bring the key back to him, and then left, leaving the skeptical Jesse behind, watching his figure grow more distant.
The night sky over Pat Sulshen Island was starry and quiet, with the boisterous sea breeze carrying the cool night temperature slapping against Fisher’s face. He couldn’t help but take a few deep breaths to expel the slight pressure building in his chest.
For some reason, ever since he learned that Erwind had conveyed his message to Elizabeth, he felt somewhat guilty, fearing that any moment, Nali’s warships might come charging in to seize him back. This uncertainty led him to decide to hasten his departure from Pat Sulshen Island; he could no longer afford to linger.
In the afternoon, he had roughly figured out the local gang’s arrangements and bought some magic materials to carry with him. Most importantly, he needed food. The journey from here to the Northern Region could take over twenty days, nearly a month. Freshwater could be handled by magic, but food had to be budgeted carefully; he certainly didn’t want to catch fish to eat every day at sea.
As night deepened, Fisher placed the food and magic materials he had bought on a small boat. He then started to produce transparent magic threads from his hands while heading toward the gang’s coastal area. With a slight movement of his fingers, he cast the threads onto the mechanical structures at the ends of those small boats, wrapping around the embedded gears and other parts.
This was to prepare for ensuring they couldn’t catch up with the Flying Fish afterwards. For a high-ranking member of the Saint Nali Magic Association, dealing with a gang lacking anti-magic experience was simply too easy. Thus Fisher began to find it rather monotonous and glanced at the jubilant book on his shoulder, puzzled about what it was so happy about.
“That key, I’m not sure where they hung it; you’ll need to sneak in and retrieve it. The model of the Flying Fish is quite old, and the key is unique, so you’ll definitely recognize it at a glance. I’ll wait for you outside.”
Just moments ago excited, Emhart’s expression dropped when he heard he needed to do the work. He shot an irritated glance at Fisher, unsure if he was recalling the painful memories of being caught and whipped by Baemon in the Demon Abyss, making him feel a bit lacking in confidence.
“Are you sure there aren’t, uh, magic or anything? And I’m so big; what if I get caught? Why don’t we take the key and forget about that old man? After all, didn’t you say he had malintent towards us? Wouldn’t it be better to leave him behind?”
“Your stupidity truly opens my eyes. He has only one reason to board the ship; it’s because the ship has rare treasures, and only he knows where they are. He doesn’t even realize I’m eyeing the treasures aboard his ship. Guess what someone who has been obsessing over his precious item would do when he returns to the ship that has been seized by the gang for so long?”
“You mean, he’ll board the ship to check if his treasures are missing?”
“Yeah. According to my deduction, there might exist a hidden magic or secret compartment only he knows the command for. If it’s hidden magic, even I wouldn’t be able to break it. Letting him board won’t cause a loss. Wait a minute, you aren’t scared and backing out of taking the key, are you?”
“No way! I’m the great Sir Book; what storms haven’t I weathered? Just leave this trivial task of getting the key to me!”
Watching Emhart’s flustered demeanor as he tried to prove himself, Fisher’s actions of twisting the yarn onto the small boat became much more cheerful, quickly tying up all the small boats with the magic threads.
Next, Fisher came to his small boat, grasped the new staff he had bought on the island, and headed towards the gang’s territory.
Speaking of which, by now he had broken two staffs since coming from the Southern Continent. Ever since the Supplement Handbook for Sub-Humans went chaotic around the world, this thing was becoming more of a consumable. Suitable staffs were always quite expensive, but a qualified Nali gentleman couldn’t do without such a thing. If only the Fluid Sword could transform into a non-harmful staff!
Fisher proficiently twirled the staff, then placed a pure black gentleman’s hat on his head. The brim was short, just enough to leave room for Emhart to stand on his shoulder.
“I’ll tie the yarn to you to keep tabs on your movements. Just quietly sneak out with the key once you find it.”
“…You’ll have to watch over me; if I get caught, you must come to save me! You can’t be the ungrateful type!”
“Uh-huh, off you go.”
Fisher wrapped the threads around Emhart’s body while putting on the magic ring previously given to him by the Mechanism to prevent any unexpected situations. If push came to shove, he’d have to blow up the place with high-level magic.
Emhart cautiously floated toward the gang’s encampment, the square book appearing surprisingly agile at that moment as it darted toward the gang’s accounting room.
Fisher, instead of waiting at the entrance, just walked back like he was holding a kite, leaving the increasingly long thread connecting them.
By the time he had left the gang camp and returned to his small boat, the ragged Jesse was already waiting for Fisher not far away, covering his thin body. Upon seeing Fisher, who appeared as if he was dressed to attend a banquet, Jesse couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. He glanced around and then ran to his side.
“Aren’t you supposed to be stealing the key? Why are you still here?”
“My little buddy has already gone; just waiting here is fine.”
Jesse raised an eyebrow, glancing at Fisher’s empty shoulder, utterly unable to decipher the love-hate relationship between him and the book. Watching Fisher sit calmly on the small boat, Jesse remained rooted on the shore, swearing that if something happened over there, he’d run away immediately.
Fisher ignored him, gently tapping the thread linking him to Emhart while simultaneously placing his ring-wearing finger on the line.
Three-ring modern magic, 【Alert Transmission】.
“Buzz, buzz, buzz~”
The light on the ring grew increasingly bright, and an imperceptible milky white halo instantaneously burst forth, transmitting through the yarn. As the light spread, the scene on Emhart’s side also unfolded before Fisher’s eyes.
First, he saw Emhart staring intently at a girl sleeping on a bed, as though he had seen something he couldn’t take his eyes off—like a hidden treasure.
“?”
Fisher raised an eyebrow. Could it be that Emhart had developed an interest in human ladies? Or was he positively influenced by Fisher’s subtle impact?
Before he could tangle with the threads attached to Emhart’s body to remind him to focus on the task of stealing the key, he caught out of the corner of his eye that the girl lying on the bed held an ancient Cardu book—seemingly a version of the Genesis, hmm, one that Emhart had never seen before.
There were many versions of Genesis; each country recognized a different one, especially the small nations on the eastern coast of the Western Continent, each nation’s version varying widely. Some versions even depicted the Mother killing her child, diverging immensely from the original.
Nali used the original version consistent with Cardu, which was also what Fisher learned, but that didn’t negate the existence of various other versions circulating in history and the present.
Emhart struggled to take another look at the book the girl had in her arms, then unexpectedly turned and resolutely floated toward the accounting room opposite the girl’s room, murmuring something to himself as he went.
“I can’t see, I can’t see, I can’t see.”
He hypnotized himself while floating into the brightly lit accounting room. Inside, a man with a firearm was dozing off. Emhart cautiously sized up the firearm in the man’s arms and quietly scrutinized the decor within.
Various countries’ currencies, as well as this month’s account bills and records, a beauty magazine published by Nali, and on the wall, hung an ancient iron key!
As soon as Emhart spotted that key, Fisher immediately tugged on the line connecting to him, signaling for him to bite it and bring it out.
Emhart pursed his lips and moved his square face next to the key, opening his mouth to bite onto the front of the key, slowly taking it down from the wall hook.
Success!
But before Emhart could pat himself on the back for his skills, he suddenly turned his head and was met with the dark barrel of a gun pointed at his face, held by the very gang member who had been dozing off but was now staring in puzzlement at the floating book in front of him.
“What are you? Why do you look so ugly?”
“Your mom.”
Emhart bit onto the key, preparing to spit a flowery retort, but at that moment, Fisher on the small boat suddenly stood up, yanked at the air, and Emhart felt a great force coming from behind him, compelling him to instinctively clamp down on the key in his mouth to prevent it from falling.
The surrounding scene sped away, the night wind and moonlight couldn’t keep up with him, and in the next moment, he found himself landing abruptly in Fisher’s hands.
“Ugh! Damn, Fisher! Why didn’t you warn me you had that trick?!”
The Sir Book’s eyes spun in Fisher’s hands. After a second or two of waiting, he fought through the dizziness to spit out the key in his mouth, ready to argue with Fisher, but Fisher ignored him completely. He adjusted his gentleman’s hat, looking toward the increasingly noisy gang territory, handing the key to the waiting Jesse.
“Captain Jesse, this is the key to the Flying Fish. Don’t worry; I’ve tampered with their ships already. We can set off now.”
Jesse’s eyelids twitched involuntarily. He glanced at the elegantly composed Fisher in front of him, then fixated on the key in his hand that he had been longing for. Cursing under his breath, he leaped onto the ship and took the traditionally styled steam engine key.
“Maniac. You’re absolutely a maniac.”
Jesse seized the key from Fisher, the flames of greed igniting in his eyes, and before Fisher could speak, Jesse already instinctively picked up the wooden paddle from the smaller boat’s stern, paddling rapidly.
After so long waiting, he would finally return to the Flying Fish! Even if he died, he’d die on the Flying Fish!
Fisher leaned against the ship’s side, hands resting on his staff, while his left-hand fingers flicked again, damaging all the machinery on the gang’s docked boats. After doing all this, he finally felt assured to retract the transparent threads in his hand and turned to look at the wooden ship anchored in the middle of the sea—the Flying Fish.
The entire Flying Fish was a size smaller than other contemporary wooden steamships because the early steam engines commonly faced severe power deficiencies. Hence, reducing the ship’s size became the best way to increase its speed.
In those days, pirates weren’t rampant on the ocean like today, nor did they need to be equipped with heavy artillery, which further reduced the weight of the Flying Fish, transforming it into a high-speed vessel resembling a flying fish in the sea of that era.
Even in this era of significant steam engine and navigation advancements, its sailing speed remained respectable.
“Quick, quick! We need to board and pull up the anchor; otherwise, the pirates on the island will blast us to pieces! You hurry, the mechanical device is right on deck; one person can operate it, and there should be instructions. I’ll go start the ship; they couldn’t have transported the coal away!”
As soon as he boarded the ship, before Fisher could toss the food and luggage from his small boat onto it, Jesse anxiously looked toward the noisy shore while saying this to Fisher.
Fisher nodded, watching Jesse clutch the key as he headed for the captain’s cabin. He exchanged a glance with Emhart, signaling him to follow, and then Fisher nodded in agreement.
“Sure, no problem.”
Fisher walked over to the mechanical device on the deck resembling a horizontal wheel, with a somewhat rusty iron chain extending from the wheel to the depths of the sea, which was the Flying Fish’s anchor.
Fisher placed his staff beside him, grasped the handles of the steel wheel tightly, and pulled hard, making the long-unused device emit a screech similar to a long-dormant person’s bones cracking.
As the silent anchor slowly moved toward the surface of the sea, the sound of the chain rubbing against the ship’s body awakened this long-dormant vessel. Meanwhile, it seemed Jesse had ignited the ship’s engine, and after several violent tremors, the flickering light on the ship grew bright, illuminating the dark deck.
It turns out there was light magic linked to the steam engine on board; in that era, only wealthy firms like the Nali Exploration Company could afford to arrange such specifications for their ships.
This was indeed a vessel from an exploration company.
As the lights suddenly brightened, the giant emblem of the Nali Exploration Company caught Fisher’s eye. It was ships adorned with the Nali Exploration Company logo that had built the bridge between the Western and Southern Continents, continuously transporting everything from the other side back to the Western Continent.
“Success! Success! The Flying Fish is operational; we can leave Pat Sulshen Island immediately! Hahahahaha!”
Joyful cheers of jubilation from Jesse came from the captain’s cabin as the entire ship began to accelerate forward. Onshore, the gang seemed to have just noticed the Flying Fish moving on the sea, but it was clearly too late for them to pursue now.
The ragged Jesse appeared at the door of the captain’s cabin, watching the gang that stayed aboard unable to start their ship and began to rejoice.
“Haha, now that they can’t catch up, they won’t have another chance. It’s too late now; the other gangs on the island won’t help them chase down an old acquaintance from decades ago. We succeeded, Mr. Fisher!”
Leaning against the ship’s side, Fisher gazed at the gradually distanced Pat Sulshen Island, turned to Jesse, and smiled.
“Mm, just remember to keep your promise.”
“Promise? Oh, right, the promise! Wait for me; I’ll find the navigation chart and make sure to get you to the Northern Region!”
Jesse slapped his forehead and turned back into the captain’s cabin, not knowing what he was looking for. Meanwhile, Fisher took off his gentleman’s hat and placed it on his chest, the moonlight illuminating his expressionless face, clearly revealing the situation on the deck ahead.
He noticed large patches of dried blood on the wooden floor near the deck cabin, making them all the more conspicuous.
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(The End of this Chapter)
