Chapter 228.1: Food and Sex Are Human Nature (Extra 2)
Wu Heng was very good at sitting still. X and Shukui had long since grown bored and couldn’t stand the sun, so they crawled into the cabin to nap. But he could sit motionless for hours, looking impressive—until several hours later, his bucket beside him was completely empty.
Sweat slid down from his temple to his chin. He looked a bit wilted. Vines crept along the deck and extended over to Xie Chongyi’s side—where things were similarly not optimistic. There were only a few small golden-thread fish, but even that level of “not optimistic” already beat his own results.
He withdrew the vines and stared at the shimmering sea surface, resisting the urge to use his ability to fish.
Marine life hadn’t survived unscathed in the apocalypse, but it hadn’t been wiped out either. Back when he had lived in the sea, things down there had still been quite lively, and the creatures weren’t smart enough to avoid hooks.
“I’ve got one.” A light, slightly smug voice came from behind.
Wu Heng glanced over and saw that Xie Chongyi’s fishing line had gone taut, flashing with a cold glint under the sun. Beneath the water, a long gray shadow was swaying left and right.
He pressed his lips together, looking even more nervous than Xie Chongyi. Xie Chongyi was afraid the line would snap and the fish would get away; he was afraid Xie Chongyi would actually succeed in catching it. After all, his own hook was sunk into the water without the slightest movement—no fish had even come to nibble.
He had gotten too used to using his abilities and almost forgotten how unlucky he used to be.
Perhaps because of that fish, Wu Heng turned his head to look at Xie Chongyi, who seemed to be practically glowing.
“Want me to help you?” Wu Heng asked considerately.
“No need.”
“……”
A terrifyingly long cutlassfish-like creature was hauled out of the sea like a shooting star from the depths. Its multicolored body and the splashing seawater glittered under the sun together. With a heavy thud, its massive head slammed onto the deck—and in the next second, it lunged straight toward Wu Heng.
Seeing his chance at last, Wu Heng reached out toward it—but before he could make contact, a figure firmly stepped in front of him.
The cutlassfish’s head was cleanly severed. Before any blood could even spurt out, its body was rapidly sliced into multiple segments.
Wu Heng’s gaze moved from the pile of pale, still faintly living cutlassfish flesh, then slowly lifted to Xie Chongyi’s face, which stood above him in the sunlight-shadowed contrast.
“Can I eat it?” he asked.
Xie Chongyi was very easy to talk to.
“Call me ‘gege’ first.”
The same title could be casually said on a bed—but off it—
Wu Heng pressed his lips together. “I’ll catch my own.”
Xie Chongyi reached down and ruffled his hair. Just when Wu Heng thought the other was only teasing, he turned away smoothly and returned to his original spot.
Wu Heng put away the smile he had been preparing.
By the time half the day had passed, Xie Chongyi had done quite well besides the cutlassfish. He had caught many shrimp, crabs, and fish, and even released quite a few, carefully selecting only a portion to keep. Just abalones the size of a palm were enough to make Wu Heng’s eyes turn red—wait, how do you even catch abalones?
As the sunlight slanted westward, shifting from pale gold to reddish-gold, the sea surface turned the color of blood. Wu Heng was no longer very hot. He set down his fishing rod, stood up to stretch his slightly numb legs, and slowly walked behind Xie Chongyi.
“Class Monitor, can we switch spots?”
Xie Chongyi did not refuse. He responded with a bright smile. “Sure.”
Wu Heng picked up his gear and happily switched places with him.
Just before night fully fell, the wind and waves grew a little stronger than during the day. Stars appeared early, floating and rippling together with the sea surface.
It was a beautiful night—but Wu Heng wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it. He still hadn’t caught a single thing. Not even a tiny fry in his bucket.
During that time, he repeatedly checked his fishing rod, line, hook, float, and bait—everything was fine. He even began to suspect both himself and Xie Chongyi. He used his vines to probe the water beneath the other side, and confirmed that the other hadn’t broken any rules.
Already awake and starving, X and Shukui sat on either side of Wu Heng. Upon realizing the human between them was so hopeless, the three creatures simultaneously let out a long sigh, slumping their backs as if they had been frostbitten.
“This… this…” X stammered. “How… how did it become like this?”
Wu Heng had no choice now. He couldn’t use his ability, and if he tried to sneak it, Xie Chongyi would notice—it would be an automatic loss. He turned to Shukui, who instantly tensed up.
“You want to go down and take a look?” he suggested.
Shukui huffed twice. It wasn’t a water dog. A Labrador or golden retriever—those water-hunting breeds—might be able to go down and cheat for a human, but it couldn’t. At most, it could race across the sea surface.
Wu Heng placed the cloth bag beside his legs between his knees and lowered his head to take out a dried venison cake. He broke it into three pieces and slowly ate his portion.
In the distance, he saw a white object appear on the sea surface, bobbing with the waves for a long time before drifting beneath their boat.
“You’ve drifted so far! I almost died looking for you!” the sea slug shouted loudly.
Three heads popped up over the railing.
“What are you doing here?” Wu Heng asked.
“Aren’t you still here? I came to play with you!” The sea slug only then noticed the fishing lines. It floated over to the float. “You’re fishing? Did you catch anything?”
“No.”
“I’ll go ask for you.” The sea slug dove beneath the water.
It quickly came back up, shouting even louder.
“You’re stupid! They recognize you! They run the moment they see you!”
“Oh, I don’t recognize them.”
“They all know you. You’re the only evolved fish in the sea that became human—word spreads among fish. They all see you as a goal to strive toward.”
“Then why won’t they bite my hook?”
“Because they don’t want to die yet.”
Hearing this, Wu Heng felt certain he had already lost without question. Even if he tied the dog, bird, and sea slug onto his hook, he still couldn’t beat Xie Chongyi—because he simply couldn’t catch a single fish.
Thinking this through, Wu Heng slowly turned the reel and began to retrieve his fishing line.
The hook came back into view. He removed the bait and tossed it to the sea slug below. Because the water was surging, the sea slug had to swim a short distance to reach it. It scrambled toward it in panic, but just as it exerted itself, a wave slapped the bait into the air. It rose to nearly the height of the ship’s railing.
Before the sea slug could stretch its body to catch it, a massive wave struck. Its body slammed into the hull, and in front of it, the bait was swallowed by a huge mouth. Behind that mouth, a cluster of dark shadows was leaping in from afar.
“Killer whales! It’s killer whales—a whole group!” the sea slug sank beneath the surface. After sensing more killer whales under the ship, it immediately clung back to the hull and began scrambling upward.
The fishing boat took an even stronger impact. The bow suddenly lifted, and beneath it, the black-and-white fish arched its smooth back—only a tiny portion of its enormous body.
The one at the very top poked its head out. Before Wu Heng could figure out why it looked almost mischievously cheerful, the boat shuddered violently again and began tilting to one side.
Wu Heng immediately turned back. He brushed past Xie Chongyi, who had come to steady both the fishing boat and him. His goal was to make sure all the fish Xie Chongyi had caught wouldn’t be overturned and swallowed by this group of killer whales.
But then the killer whales began ramming the other side. The force threw Wu Heng backward. Vines exploded from behind him like scattered flowers, grabbing onto the railing and Shukui, who was about to fall into the sea.
X had already left the dangerous deck—because birds had wings.
“Honestly, I hate killer whales the most!” the sea slug’s voice appeared behind Wu Heng. Somehow, it had stuck itself to his shoulder.
“It’s fine,” Wu Heng replied. This was his first time facing killer whales head-on. He didn’t know whether they had any subjective malice, but objectively, they were very good at accidentally killing other creatures.
Water splashed up like buildings collapsing. After all their commotion, not a single item had fallen off the ship. One by one, the killer whales poked their heads above the surface, openly staring at the boat.
Wu Heng was already soaked through. He squatted on the upper deck of the cabin and, across the way, saw Xie Chongyi also crouching.
Xie Chongyi slowly reached out a hand.
Below them, the nearest killer whale suddenly trembled. A shuddering ripple spread outward from it in all directions.
Several kilometers away, the sea erupted with a deafening roar. A hundred-meter-high wall of waves surged upward.
The pod of killer whales clearly froze for a moment. Then, almost instinctively, they became noticeably more obedient. Although they didn’t leave immediately, that aggressive, mischievous energy had completely vanished.
“Are you okay?” Xie Chongyi walked up to Wu Heng and looked at his wet hair, using his fingers to sweep some water away.
“I’m fine.” Wu Heng shook his head, holding Shukui, who was also drenched, in his arms.
Xie Chongyi always understood him very well. Standing above him, he studied him carefully for a moment, then turned his gaze toward the empty deck beside them.
“Where’s my fish?”
Wu Heng answered without changing expression. “They probably fell back into the sea.”
Xie Chongyi didn’t bother circling around the issue. He grabbed a lock of hair at the back of Wu Heng’s head and tilted his face upward.
“Those were originally meant for you. Was it really necessary to sneak and eat them?”
“I didn’t sneak eat them,” Wu Heng said honestly. “Poppy ate them. I didn’t.”
After saying that, he changed the subject. “I’m hungry. When are we going back? It’s time for dinner.”
Xie Chongyi tightened his grip slightly.
“Let’s talk about the important thing first. You lost.”
Fortunately, Wu Heng didn’t have much of a competitive spirit. He curved his lips into a smile. “Gege, I’m hungry.”
From his fingertips to the very flow of blood in his heart, something went briefly numb. Xie Chongyi finally realized: no matter whether Wu Heng had caught fish or not, the one who lost was never going to be him. Wu Heng was just setting himself up for trouble—but not in a way that felt unpleasant.
Noticing the water surface stirring again, Wu Heng looked down.
“Should I go take a look?”
Xie Chongyi took Shukui out of his arms. “It looks like a large school of fish. Be careful.”
“Appetizer.”
After dropping those two words, Wu Heng turned around and lightly leapt down from the deck. X landed on the railing and stood guard, alert and watchful of the surroundings.
Beneath the water, a massive school of fish had indeed gathered. The entire visible expanse of open sea was densely filled with perfectly organized circular formations. Killer whales were weaving through them, each pass swallowing huge mouthfuls. The school scattered briefly, then quickly regrouped—its numbers seemingly unchanged.
Wu Heng approached in silence, like a diver holding his breath, afraid to make a single unnecessary movement. A school of barracuda swam overhead—four to five meters long, their cold gray bodies resembling a disciplined naval fleet. They still hadn’t noticed the human approaching.
Vines slipped into the school like silent sea serpents, triggering a panic far greater than even the killer whales had caused. The formation collapsed—and this time, it couldn’t recover.
Threads of bright red began spreading through the water. Shredded fish flesh drifted like scattered stars. The killer whales retreated to the sides of the water column, but they didn’t leave. They lingered nearby. Other predators, drawn by the commotion, began to approach—but upon seeing the two most dominant black-and-white apex predators, they silently backed away again.
Wu Heng did not wipe out the entire school.
He surfaced from the sea, water washing over his pale fingers as they rested on the ship’s edge. His long hair hung damp behind him, resembling a mermaid that only surfaced at night to hunt humans on fishing boats.
He looked up.
“Three-tenths full.”
From above, Xie Chongyi looked down at the remnants below—the killer whales scavenging what was left, the barracuda school dispersing.
“You didn’t finish them.”
“It’s breeding season. They came here to spawn. I left some of the females.”
Xie Chongyi crouched down. His wrist rested on his knee for a moment. His fingers twitched lightly in the air—he hadn’t even touched him yet, but already felt reluctant to stop.
“Then come up?”
He said it casually—but still didn’t reach out to pull Wu Heng up.
Wu Heng was about to speak when a faint tremor rippled across the water behind him. He turned, and both he and Xie Chongyi simultaneously looked toward the source of the disturbance.
A wall of water had risen at some unknown point.
“Tsunami!” X shouted loudly, already preparing to run.
“Doesn’t look like it,” Xie Chongyi said flatly. Without another word, he pulled Wu Heng up from the water. “It’s probably some large mutated marine creature causing it over there.”
He quickly reeled in the anchor and started the engine. Before the bow could even fully turn, a closer surge crashed in—far more violent than the playful collisions of the killer whales.
The hull snapped cleanly in two.
Everything on board spilled into the sea.
Shukui clung tightly to X. Dog and bird plunged into the water together. Wu Heng used vines to haul them back up, but before he could stabilize them, another smaller but far more forceful wave struck him.
Pain like broken bones shot through his body.
He was pulled into a firm embrace.
A larger wave followed. His ability could only ensure they wouldn’t be smashed apart by the sea itself.
In the distant waters, the earlier pod of killer whales had joined an even larger group of mutated killer whales, clashing violently with mutated dolphins and box jellyfish. Blood-red eyes rose and sank like flickering lights in a storm. Hundred-meter waves rose one after another.
And then—
the storm arrived.
