Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 91 Sailing at Night, Treasure Fish, and the Narrow Mouth of a Ditch

Upon hearing this, the young man's eyes lit up dramatically, his lips trembled slightly, and he almost bowed.

"Thank you so much, senior!"

He turned to leave.

"Wait a moment.

Xilun called out to him.

The young man stopped and turned around.

Xilun finished the last drop of juice in the bottle and handed the empty bottle over.

"good."

He paused for a moment, then added, "And throw it away for me while you're at it."

The young man hesitated for a moment, then took the bottle and ran to throw it away.

"What's your name?"

"Tiller".

Xilun nodded: "What were you all talking about just now?"

Tiller's face lit up with excitement again.

"Senior, you don't know yet? Robert, a senior student under Instructor Ryan, has been baptized!"

He lowered his voice, his tone revealing an undisguised tremor.

"A first-order baptized being! If I could reach that level, I could stay on White Oak Street as an executive officer, and my dad would definitely have my name engraved in the family tree!"

Xilun's fingers paused slightly.

He didn't speak, but the look in his eyes darkened.

Robert!

The baron's eldest son finally crossed that threshold.

A while later, Fester came up the stairs, seemingly unaware of what had happened.

When he heard it, he froze on the spot, his mouth agape, his voice trembling.

"Robert—has he been baptized?"

Several students around looked over, each with a different expression.

Some were envious, some remained silent, and some clenched their fists.

First-order baptisms.

For most of the people present, it was a mountain that they could see but could not reach.

Fester stood there, motionless for a long time.

Xilun lowered his head to loosen his muscles and bones, then stood up and stretched his shoulders.

I've had enough rest.

He returned to the wooden stake, adjusted his breathing, and began practicing.

One punch.

Another punch.

The pace is steady and unhurried.

Deep within his pupils, in a place unseen by others, a pale red data stream flickered quietly.

[Skill: Iron Wall Breathing Technique (Expert)]

[Progress: 635/1000]

[Skill: Dorok Dark Claw Technique (Proficient)]

[Progress: 258/500]

[Skill: Basic Marksmanship (Beginner)]

[Progress: 98/100]

My current top priority in training is the breathing technique, followed by the Dark Claw Technique.

He only practices marksmanship on very rare occasions.

After all, once he was truly baptized, he would no longer be so afraid of pepper spray guns.

The opponent he faced was not someone whose marksmanship alone could defeat.

Moreover, practicing shooting is quite expensive...

As evening fell, darkness gradually enveloped the glow of the sunset.

The thick fog over the Greywater River was like a heavy layer of lead gray, making it hard to breathe.

The steam carried a fishy, ​​shrimpy smell, along with the pungent sulfurous odor emanating from a distant chemical plant.

Xilun bent down and climbed into the medium-sized fishing boat, his leather boots creaking dully on the damp wooden planks.

Several windproof kerosene lamps had been lit on the deck, their dim yellow light illuminating only a few steps in the thick fog.

"Cheer up, everyone!"

Captain Mark's rough voice rang out from the bow of the ship, exuding the authority of someone who had made a living on the water for many years.

He rubbed his calloused, rough hands together, his gaze sweeping over every sailor on deck.

"Even walking at night isn't safe, the water isn't safe, and there are plenty of eyes on the shore. It's not worth losing your life for a few fish!"

"And remember to do your job well, pull the net when you need to, steer the ship when you need to, and don't look around aimlessly."

The sailors responded in hushed tones and dispersed.

The group moved swiftly; some grabbed rough hemp rope nets, others pulled gleaming harpoons from wooden buckets, and still others climbed the mast to adjust the gray sails that were fluttering in the night wind.

Xilun didn't try to take on those arduous tasks.

He walked to the side of the ship, pulled a hardwood harpoon from the weapon rack, held it upside down in his hand, and then sat cross-legged on the wet deck.

He lowered his head slightly, his eyelids drooping, his gaze seemingly casual, but in reality, it was fixed on the churning dark blue water below.

The river water lapped against the hull of the boat, making a splashing sound.

Mark walked over carrying a jug of cheap ale and plopped down next to Xiren.

The heavy wooden planks sank lower under the weight.

"Fishing at night is the most grueling."

Mark gulped down a mouthful of liquor, the spicy liquid running down his stubble and into his neck, but he didn't care, casually wiping it away with the back of his hand.

"It's not just because the fog makes visibility poor and makes it hard to tell which way to go."

He pointed to the dark water and lowered his voice.

"There are big fish down there, and some very old beasts that are harder than the bottom of a boat; if you bump into them, they can throw you into the water."

Xilen's fingers tightened slightly as he gripped the harpoon, then turned to look at Mark.

Mark's expression was serious, with a hint of warning.

"There's one more thing you have to remember: those of us who make our living on the water must never fall into the water."

"Once you fall in, it won't matter if you can swim."

"The deep water is freezing cold. Soaking in it for ten minutes will freeze your strength. There are also blood-sucking fish and shrimp monsters in the water. Even if you are lucky enough not to encounter them, getting your ankles tangled in the wildly growing seaweed is a life-threatening problem."

Mark sighed.

"The underwater world is not a place for the living."

Xilun nodded slightly without saying a word.

His palms rested on the deck, feeling the subtle vibrations transmitted by the water.

If it were someone else, they would naturally be terrified of falling into the water.

But he is different.

The "swimming" talent that his smooth skin gave him allowed him to breathe freely underwater just like on land, and even the biting cold was greatly reduced.

It was an extremely strange feeling, as if the greywater river was not a deadly abyss, but an extension of his body.

The fishing boat glided slowly in the underground river for about half an hour.

The surrounding fog grew thicker and thicker, completely obscuring even the distant shoreline.

The water flow became calm, even somewhat still.

"Drop anchor! Lower the sails!"

Mark suddenly stood up and shouted.

The anchor, with its heavy chain, crashed into the water with a clatter, splashing up a spray of white water.

"I'll log off here."

Mark walked to the side of the ship, peered into the water, and a smug smile appeared on his face.

"Based on my past experience, this godforsaken place is a good place to catch black trout."

Upon hearing the words "black trout," the eyes of the surrounding veteran sailors instantly lit up, and their breathing became heavier.

The black-striped fish is the real treasure of the Greywater River.

Not only is the meat extremely delicious, but more importantly, eating it can boost energy and has many benefits for refining the skin and blood.

On the black market, a perfectly good black strip of meat can fetch a high price of two silver shillings, and there is no market for it.

"Captain, how did you know about this remote place?"

A young sailor with a harpoon couldn't resist coming over to ask.

Mark chuckled, revealing a set of yellowed, black teeth.

"About six months ago, I was working on a boat alone when I was chased by a water monster and accidentally stumbled into this stagnant bay."

"This place is remote and quiet, and ordinary boats can't get in at all. I caught a few black trout at the time, and I thought it was just luck."

"Later, I would come here from time to time and found that every two or three months, I could catch more than a dozen black trout here."

"Get off the net quickly! Hurry up!"

A huge trawl net was sunk into the water.

The winch turned, emitting a harsh grinding sound.

About fifteen minutes later.

"Raise the net!"

Several burly men, their veins bulging, shouted slogans as they slowly dragged the heavy fishing nets onto the deck.

The net was filled with a jumble of aquatic plants, silt, and a few thrashing white-scaled fish.

But amidst that pile of junk, two bright black reflections stood out conspicuously.

"Black trout strips! There really are black trout strips!"

The sailors cheered.

Mark himself stepped forward, wearing thick leather gloves, and carefully picked out two fish, each about a foot long, with black backs and snow-white bellies, and threw them into a specially made wooden bucket.

"Good omen! These two fish are enough for us brothers to have a good time at the tavern tonight!"

Xiren sat in a corner and did not join in the cheering.

His gaze was like that of a hawk, fixed on the two black strips still struggling desperately in the wooden barrel.

He was well aware of the fish's value.

He had eaten one last time, and the warm energy that rose from his stomach made his Iron Wall Breathing Technique advance by leaps and bounds.

If we could have ten or twenty fish like that —

The time it takes for him to advance to the master level of breathing techniques will be greatly shortened.

Xilun shifted his gaze from the wooden barrel back to the dark water.

He closed his eyes slightly and activated the trace of his swimming talent within his body.

The ripples of the flowing water gradually became clear in my mind.

Beneath the seemingly calm surface of the water, a very subtle, reverse current was slowly emerging from about thirty paces to the left of the bow.

He opened his eyes and suddenly spoke: "Captain Mark."

Xilun's voice wasn't loud, but it sounded exceptionally clear on the empty night sky.

"Is there a ditch up ahead?"

He stretched out his finger and pointed to the thick, impenetrable black fog to his left.

"The water flow is wrong. Those two black trout were swimming from that direction."

Mark paused as he inspected the fishing net.

He frowned, walked to the bow of the ship, and looked in the direction Xilun pointed for a long time, but saw nothing but fog.

"A ditch?"

Mark stroked his chin, a hint of doubt flashing in his eyes.

He really didn't notice.

But he stumbled into this body of water by sheer luck and wasn't familiar with the terrain.

He turned to look at Xilun, a hint of admiration in his eyes.

"You're quite alert, kid. Your hearing is better than ours, old folks."

Marx paused for a moment, weighing the risks and rewards.

The allure of the black trout strips ultimately triumphed over caution.

"Raise anchor! Use the pole vaulter to check! Be careful!"

The fishing boat did not raise its sails, but instead relied on several sailors to use long bamboo poles to propel it slowly to the left and forward.

The further you go, the narrower the water becomes.

Tall black reeds grew on both sides, like ghostly shadows, sandwiching the boat in the middle.

The surroundings were eerily quiet, with only the dripping sound of the bamboo pole hitting the water.

Finally, the fishing boat approached the deepest part of the water, a very inconspicuous corner.

"stop!"

Xilun raised his hand.

The crowd looked in the direction of the lantern's light.

Beneath the muddy and rocky bank, there was indeed a water outlet about half a person's height.

The water outlet was mostly hidden by hanging vines and aquatic plants, and it would be impossible to spot unless you got within ten steps.

A stream of clear, cool water was slowly flowing out of the cave entrance.

Mark gasped.

"What...how come there's a hole here?"

He stared at the dark, deep cave entrance, which resembled the open mouth of a giant beast, radiating an unknown chill.

"Did the treasure fish emerge from here?"

Mark took two steps forward, gripped his musket tightly, and considered having a small sampan brought in to take a look.

But his years of experience sailing told him that this place had an eerie atmosphere.

I always feel unsafe.

It was so quiet, so quiet that there wasn't even a chirping of insects.

"Captain, shall we go in or not?" a sailor asked in a low voice, his eyes filled with greed.

Mark gritted his teeth, about to speak.

"I'll go take a look."

Siren stood up and put the harpoon back into the weapon rack.

His voice was flat, without the slightest emotional fluctuation.

Mark was stunned: "Are you crazy? Who knows how deep this cave is? There might be some kind of strange creature hiding there. And you'll have to swim in. If something happens, we won't even have time to save you."

Xilun offered no explanation.

He is not afraid of water.

Because of his talent, he was even more at ease in the water than on land, although his movements were slightly hindered by the water's resistance.

But this slight resistance is negligible for his current expert-level strength.

"I know what's important. If there's any danger, I'll run back!"

Xilun deftly unbuttoned his trench coat, took off his coarse cloth shirt, and went shirtless.

The firm muscles gleamed with a pale coppery sheen under the kerosene lamp.

He then untied the pepper box from his waist, wrapped it in an oilcloth, and stuffed it, along with the leather bag containing training ammunition, into a corner of the cabin.

Not only will soaking the gunpowder in water ruin it, but it will also become a hindrance.

His truly lethal weapon was never a gun.

He looked down at his hands, where the dark golden energy belonging to the "Claws of Corruption" was slowly circulating deep within his skin.

"I'll be back soon."

Xilun gave a brief instruction and, without waiting for Mark to offer further advice, walked to the ship's side.

thump!

A very soft splash.

Only a faint ripple appeared on the water's surface before Xilun, like a fish, disappeared into the icy greywater river, vanishing completely into the night.

Mark peered out, holding a lantern, but couldn't find even a trace of Xilun.

He swallowed hard and muttered a curse under his breath: "That kid is a reckless drowsy bastard."

underwater.

Xilun opened his eyes.

Although his vision was obstructed by the murky river water, he could clearly sense the direction of the current.

The water temperature was extremely low; an ordinary person would have been frozen stiff and their jaw would be chattering by now.

However, Xilun only felt a slight chill. His Iron Wall Breathing Technique activated automatically, and his blood and qi, like a furnace, kept the cold at bay.

The most amazing thing is breathing.

He didn't need to hold his breath; water flowed through his mouth and nose, and some strange mechanism filtered oxygen from the water, supplying it directly to his lungs.

He was indistinguishable from a fish underwater.

Xilun, like a crocodile gliding along the riverbed, used both hands and feet to swim silently toward the waterway that was half a person's height.

The edges of the cave entrance were covered with slippery moss and sharp reefs.

He reached out, grabbed a protruding rock, and with a push of his legs, shot into it like an arrow.

This is an extremely narrow underground river channel.

On either side were wet rock walls, and the stalactites overhead almost brushed against his scalp.

The space was so cramped that it made one feel suffocated.

Xilun could only remain completely submerged, swimming slowly forward along the riverbed.

I swam for about several tens of meters.

The river channel began to widen, and the water flow became gentler.

Faintly, Xilun heard a faint sound.

It wasn't the sound of flowing water, but the sound of people talking.

Xilun felt a chill run down his spine and slowed his movements.

He adjusted his posture in the water, like a weightless fallen leaf, slowly floating upwards with the current.

He did not surface immediately, but instead kept his body about half a foot above the water.

The sound above the water, muffled but clear, traveled through the ripples to his ears.

"Hall, this is a treasure trove of a place. We absolutely cannot let this opportunity slip away."

A slightly shrill male voice, tinged with excitement, rang out.