Seventeen slowly exhaled the breath trapped in his chest.
Since the Yans wanted to take his life back, what was the point of struggling?
After all, this life of his had been plucked from the sea by the Yan Clan Tide Court in the first place.
Back then, his name was not yet Seventeen.
He had lived upon a very small float-commune.
A few derelict boats and floating platforms chained together, with cultivation pods suspended beneath the water, housing several dozen families.
During the day, the adults tended fish and salvaged out at sea; come mealtime, cabin doors swung open one after another, the aroma of food and the sound of laughter drifting across the covered bridges throughout the entire float-commune.
On the day a band of masked sea bandits stormed the float-commune, they slaughtered everyone in sight.
His father collapsed before their cabin door.
His mother shoved him into a tangled heap of discarded nets beneath the hull, turning to throw herself at their pursuers, and soon fell silent as well.
Curled deep within the discarded nets, he watched through the rippling seawater as flames devoured the float-commune bit by bit.
Just as he was on the verge of losing consciousness, the Yan Clan Tide Court’s Sea Enforcement Squad arrived.
They wiped out the sea bandits and dragged his dying self from the discarded nets beneath the boat.
The Tide Court fed him, treated his injuries, sent the now-homeless boy into the Fish Guard training camp, and passed down 《Tide-Calming Salamander Register》 to him.
His parents and his float-commune were both gone.
What the Yans gave him became all he had left.
From then on, he believed his life belonged to the Yan Clan Tide Court.
Even if his days grew less and less like those of a normal person, he never once regretted it.
Now, the Yans wanted to take this life back.
Then let them have it.
The tension coiled in Seventeen’s shoulders and back slowly bled away, and the iron collar around his neck ceased its rattling.
He closed his eyes.
White Eel let out a sudden, soft chuckle.
“What, ready to go to your death with open arms?”
“No need to rush.”
“You’ve risked your life for the Yan Clan Tide Court all these years. It’s only right that I give you a parting gift.”
“An answer you’ve spent many years searching for.”
Seventeen made no response.
An answer?
At this point, what answer could he possibly still need to know?
“Those sea bandits who attacked your float-commune back then...”
White Eel paused.
“You’ve been investigating them all along, haven’t you?”
Seventeen snapped his eyes open, the tension in his newly relaxed shoulders and back tightening in an instant.
Those sea bandits.
Of course he had investigated them.
Roving bandits acting on a whim, raiding the float-commune to butcher people and plunder rations.
The Yan Clan Tide Court had arrived upon receiving the distress call, slain all the bandits, and rescued the sole survivor.
Wasn’t that the answer?!
Only then did White Eel finish his thought. “Before your float-commune met its end, the Tide Court received a secret report claiming that the Boneless Salamander was last seen right there on your float-commune.”
“And in his twilight years, he had obtained a top-grade Fish Roe Stone.”
The Boneless Salamander.
Seventeen had heard that name before.
The most notorious pirate of the previous generation across the Zijing Sea.
Rumor had it that his fish aspect was exceptionally bizarre; every joint in his body could dislocate and disassemble itself. There was no crack upon the sea he couldn't squeeze into, nor anything he couldn't steal.
As for the Fish Roe Stone, it was not actual fish roe.
It was a stony embryo condensed from the lingering fish-transformation power of a high-tier aberrant fish after its death, preserving the fish-transformation trajectory the creature had traversed during its life.
When practitioners obtained a Fish Roe Stone, they had a chance to decipher subsequent fish recipes from it.
Ordinary Fish Roe Stones could only retain limited paths.
Only those that preserved the fish recipes for all seven fish-transformations in their entirety were worthy of being called top-grade Fish Roe Stones.
Once such a treasure surfaced, it was enough to make several great anchorages wage war over it.
“Back then, the Young Master had not yet begun fish-transformation.”
“So the Court Master ordered the Four Jurisdictions to scour everywhere for top-grade Fish Roe Stones, wanting to select a path of seven transformations for him in advance.”
“Naturally, the one in the Boneless Salamander’s hands was among them.”
“However, the origins of that secret report were dubious, and the Court Master only gave it thirty percent credence.”
“Had the intelligence been confirmed, it would have been well worth sending the Yan Clan’s personal guards to retrieve it in person.”
“Yet based merely on a rumor whose truth could not be distinguished...”
“...it wasn't worth having our own people enter the fray.”
“And so, the Tide Court sought out a band of sea bandits to test the waters for the Yans.”
A deafening roar exploded in Seventeen’s ears.
“What on earth are you talking about...?”
“What else could it be?”
White Eel chuckled.
“The sea bandits who raided your float-commune were hired on the Court Master’s personal orders.”
“The bandits boarded the float-commune to search it, but the boatfolk refused to cooperate, so they had no choice but to kill.”
“Once they finished turning the float-commune upside down, the Tide Court’s Sea Enforcement Squad rushed over to clean up both the bandits and anyone who knew anything.”
The clotted blood in Seventeen’s throat surged up violently.
“Clean up?”
“Of course the bandits had to die,” White Eel said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “The Yan Clan Tide Court is the justice of this maritime domain. How could hiring sea bandits to butcher boatfolk ever be allowed to surface?”
“Pity that despite so many dying, nothing was found in the end. That secret report was likely fake from start to finish.”
Seventeen’s voice was already hoarse.
“Just over an unverified secret report, the Court Master would rather destroy an entire float-commune than pass up the slightest chance to pave the way for the Young Master?”
“Hasn’t the world always been like this?” White Eel countered.
Seventeen parted his lips.
Yet he could not swallow down the blood pooling in his throat no matter what.
And so, that catastrophe had never been an accident.
Nor had the sea bandits coincidentally passed by.
Much less had the Yans arrived after receiving a plea for help.
The so-called rescue was merely fishing a half-dead child out of the sea as the slaughter was wrapped up.
Later, 《Tide-Calming Salamander Register》 drew out the Body-Abandoning Salamander aspect from this very child, and only then did the Yans realize that the fish that had slipped through their net back then had an even greater use.
And so, he was sent into the Fish-Transformation Camp.
From roving scout to aquatic scout.
From aquatic scout into the torture chamber.
And finally, cultivated into a Body-Abandoning Salamander head steeped through three years of torture, simply waiting for the heat to ripen so it could be plugged into Young Master Yan’s ascension recipe.
And just moments ago...
...he had actually been ready to surrender his head willingly.
Absurd.
All these years, his life had been utterly, laughably absurd.
Warm liquid gradually welled in his eyes.
Yet when it trickled down his cheeks, it had turned to blood.
White Eel looked at him as if admiring a masterpiece that had finally reached completion.
“This is the parting gift I offer you.”
“You’ve risked your life for the Yan Clan Tide Court for so many years.”
“If you died without even knowing what you truly are, it would simply be too pitiful.”
Having spoken, he stood up.
His right arm hung loosely at his side.
At his wrist, layers of white scales slowly flared open.
In the next instant.
A snow-white bone blade pushed out from the flesh, extending along his carpal bones until it formed a long, narrow, razor-sharp bone saber.
“Your head, I shall personally present to Young Master Yan.”
“With that...”
“...safe travels on your final journey.”
The bone blade slowly rose.
Seventeen kept his head bowed.
No matter the circumstance, always leave yourself a way out. That was a lesson White Eel himself had taught him.
Behind his rearmost molar lay a fish-bone needle honed over three years.
The bone blade reached its apex.
Seventeen clamped down hard with his teeth.
A chunk of tongue meat and a mouthful of fresh blood sprayed toward White Eel.
Amidst the bloody mist, a glint of cold light darted right behind it, shooting straight for the space between White Eel’s brows.
Almost the exact moment the fish-bone needle appeared, White Eel’s right wrist slashed horizontally downward.
【Blood Swim】
Ding!
A crisp snap rang out.
The fish-bone needle snapped in two, spinning through the air before embedding into the cabin bulkhead.
White Eel’s voice came from behind him.
“The trick of hiding a needle was also taught by me.”
“Using it against me?”
Slash!
The bone blade swept across the nape of his neck.
Severing it in one swift blow.
Seventeen only felt a chill at the back of his neck.
The entire world spun upside down.
The ceiling, the blood trough, the torture chair, and White Eel’s legs tumbled past his vision in succession, before settling sideways on the floor with a dull thud.
So this is what it feels like to be beheaded.
Surprisingly, it doesn't hurt as much as I imagined.
Footsteps circled around from behind the torture chair.
White Eel bent down, grabbed him by the hair, and lifted the severed head.
“Body-Abandoning Salamander: so long as the head does not die, any lost body can regrow completely.”
The snow-white bone blade turned, its tip resting against the back of his skull.
“Pity that this regeneration relies entirely on the fish aperture hidden right here.”
“Only by destroying the fish aperture will your severed neck cease regrowing a body, and only then can all the medicinal potency nourished through three years of torture-steeping remain locked within the head.”
With those words,
White Eel shoved his wrist forward.
The tip of the blade drove straight into the fish aperture.
Crack.
A faint crunch echoed deep within the back of his skull, and an icy numbness burst forth. In that instant, the very last sliver of connection between Seventeen and the abandoned body on the floor snapped completely.
A black medicine case had already been set upon the floor.
White Eel popped the lid open, nestled Seventeen’s head into a thick bed of ice salt, and straightened the severed neck.
“Rest easy.”
“You’ll stay conscious for a little longer.”
“The ice salt will lock in the medicinal properties. By the time you reach the Medicine Dock, I guarantee you’ll be just as fresh as if you’d just been decapitated.”
Cold crept upward inch by inch from his severed neck.
Seventeen could no longer move.
He could only watch as the lid slowly descended.
When others died, they at least got to lie in a coffin.
He was quite space-efficient.
One head.
One medicine case.
And within it, an entire lifetime was packed away.
...
Rate on N.U.
