Black Sail
Chapter 314: CCCXIV. Fishing Season

Chapter 314: CCCXIV. Fishing Season

January 25th.

On Kersuna Island, a Southern Continent exclave where the Yisu people are not the main ethnic group.

Time had reached the evening; the setting sun was like blood, and the surface of the water shimmered.

Due to Iron Soul Island opening up to the outside world, this place also became a popular transfer point for Heaven Port. With the holiday ending, everything had returned to normal; ships were continuously coming and going.

Many Yisu people, leaving their hometown behind, prepared to depart from here to the New Continent to scope out the situation. They didn’t ask to be lucky enough to find a vein of ore and become wealthy. Even if they could just pan some sand gold or obtain valuable curios and crafts that could earn them a few Golden Dragons, that would be enough to live by.

Even at dusk, the pier was busy with people coming and going, and the Yisu people, with their varying hair colors and animal-like ears and tails, boarded the passenger ships, embarking on their journeys one after another.

The district Staff Chief, following Diaz’s orders, was here to hand over the Stele to Black Sail, with no room for delay.

He had brought a few capable hands and had already been waiting here for an entire day, from dawn until now.

The core members of Black Sail, now even their fleet’s One-eyed Dragon, a bald man with tattoos, all had prominent identities.

Through a thief’s eyes, they could immediately recognize them as soon as they arrived at the pier.

"They don’t seem to have any intention of making the handover, huh."

One of the Thieves had already grown impatient from waiting and started pacing back and forth restlessly.

"Can you fucking stop pacing? You must have paced three万里 today alone."

Another Thief complained, as the one pacing also smoked like a Tiger-man, chain-smoking tirelessly while waiting, tracing a Möbius strip on the ground with his cigarette butts.

The Staff Chief spoke, signaling them to be quiet. The task was to be completed by the 25th, and it was not yet midnight; they had to keep waiting until then.

Dusk fell.

There were hardly any people left on the pier, only soliciting flower boats and seedy patrons coming and going.

The Staff Chief lamented the changing times, seeing the rise of a new industry, remarking that these people truly had business savvy.

Flower boats were quite common, mobile brothels at sea, going wherever the crowd was.

But now these Comparisons had invented a new business model called "travel companionship."

Which was to say, on a flower boat, you hire a cultured courtesan with both talent and education to accompany you through the New Continent, from Kersuna Island all the way to the New Continent, offering not just good service but also intellectual stimulation. Which scholar wouldn’t love someone who could satisfy both body and soul?

Rich guys go to Iron Soul Island not to seek fortunes but purely for fun.

People nowadays were too shrewd; it was uncertain if gold panning would be profitable, but profiting off the Gold Seekers was a sure bet.

The Staff Chief looked at his watch; it was past twelve o’clock.

"Badass, they really have the guts. Let’s go, spend a night on the flower boat, rest up, get laid, and then leave. Tomorrow we will report the failed handover back to the Guild headquarters and immediately start a full-scale smear campaign against Liszt, as well as economic sanctions against Black Sail. Also, write a letter to Doringger; he won’t want to antagonize us over a pirate."

The Staff Chief said calmly.

"Badass."

One Thief, not knowing what else to say, wondered what game Liszt was playing that even Diaz seemed to be losing his nerve.

January 26th.

The East Sea Domain, one of the four fishing island locations.

Because it’s nearby the confluence of ocean currents, the fishing industry thrived; both foreign fishing boats and local fishermen who had lived there all their lives depended on the abundance and richness of fish nearby, as well as the expensive seafood that only the East Sea offered, to scrape by a living.

But recently, things had not been so peaceful.

In sea fishing, there are strict regulations on the size of the mesh in fishing nets. If your mesh size is too small, and it captures everything below the regulated size, it’s demolishing without discrimination, which is harmful to the entire fishing ground’s ecosystem.

It’s under the control of the local Fishing Association.

But the Wave Suppression Pirate Group, led by Wen Kui, didn’t give a damn about any association.

Claiming to be from the Black Sail Trading Company, they are now looking to take over the fishing grounds, offering indiscriminate mesh sizes for fishing nets used by those willing to sell their seafood through Black Sail channels.

If the Association’s people come for you, we will help you settle the issue.

At first, no one dared to provoke the Association.

But once a few bold people took the lead, with Wen Kui holding the line, things quickly spiraled out of control.

According to Fen, they should not lay a hand on the local fishermen, and, as much as possible, they should win over the hearts of the people and strive to become major distributors for large fishing vessels.

Fen had little interest in so-called fish selling; he preferred quick and easy dealings. But, after calculating the profits from the entire East Sea fishing grounds, he realized it was more lucrative than selling hallucinogens.

The main sources of income for Doringger were, one, fencing stolen goods; two, the fishing grounds; three, hallucinogens; four, wholesaling necessities.

The rest, like floating casinos and real estate, as well as fees for mediating disputes and other services, were not included.

Indeed, he could be called the uncrowned king. Even without establishing a nation, everyone in the East Sea was effectively paying tribute to him.

For various reasons, Doringger, wanting to come ashore, took drastic measures and cut off his biggest source of income—the fencing operation.

And Fen, with funding from the board of directors—twenty thousand Golden Dragons—all of it went towards sabotage.

Wen Kui, as the main force, wreaked havoc in these fishing grounds, and with the continuous support from arriving pirate gangs, he had brought the local Fishing Association to a complete standstill.

And the so-called Fishing Association was nothing more than Doringger’s local enforcers, acting as a quasi-government, the highest management level in the area.

This fishing ground island was incredibly prosperous, with architecture that rivaled the scale of a small inland city.

The Fishing Association was headquartered in a luxurious estate that could refresh the soul.

Unfortunately, the ground was littered with bodies, a sight too horrifying to endure.

These pirates from the Far East Islands were ruthless, some of them even bloodthirsty savages with a taste for human flesh.

As one of the two famed enterprises in the Pirate Nest, they also had made it to the pinnacle of this season’s competition. With additional funding from Black Sail, there was no shortage of pirate gangs to aid him.

They quickly took over the fishing grounds, and the local fishermen welcomed them with open arms and humble offerings.

Despite Qi Li’s warnings not to cause any unnecessary problems, to focus solely on destruction, and ideally to recruit the local association under their banner through sheer force, Wen Kui was a brute. Once the deed was done, what was there left to discuss? By eradicating everyone from the association, he had resolved the issue.

Inside the Association’s estate.

Wen Kui was covered in blood, and Wave Suppression’s core members also killed the last wave of "sheriffs" coming to reinforce from the sea.

The once verdant lawns and the crystal-clear fountain were now stained crimson.

Wen Kui wasn’t entirely acting on impulse, as the people of the Association were truly despicable.

On the surface, they spoke of limiting net sizes, enforcing fishing bans, and setting quotas to ensure local fishermen earned just enough to get by, yet even that was a struggle.

Meanwhile, the Association’s own men had more net sizes than a person could count.

The estate was littered with the bodies of fishermen from nocturnal fishing vessels, and squid-killing knives were scattered on the ground.

At night, they would go to sea, using fluorite lamps to attract squids, and fish them out in a frenzy, netting up to a hundred or two hundred pounds at once.

With all that money earned, imagine how many times they had cast their nets.

It seemed like the entire island was profiting from the fishing grounds, but in reality, the division was more likely unequal, with the Association pocketing everything.

This arrangement allowed Doringger, the tax collector, to not only regularly pay taxes to other countries but also to make a killing for himself.

After killing most of the people, Wen Kui wiped the blood off his Willow Leaf Blade onto his clothes and entered the building.

The president of the Association was hiding in an office, with the door bolted from the inside.

Wen Kui kicked the door down.

The president was holding a firearm, which left Wen Kui speechless.

"Damn you for embezzling, isn’t that just taking advantage of the honest folks?"

Wen Kui brandished his blade, uncertain whether he should kill the man.

The president’s legs were shaking, and in a stress-induced reflex, he accidentally pulled the firearm’s trigger.

Bang!

Wen Kui blocked the bullet with a swipe of his knife.

His subordinates, armed with daggers, rushed forward and stabbed the president to death, spewing blood like sieves.

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