His lips were trembling violently. His long black hair draped over his face, dripping with water droplets that looked like crystals due to the biting cold.
His skin was as pale as a ghost, and his body was a map of scars. His hands were bound to the ceiling like a hung animal, and the lower half of his body—from his chest to his feet—was submerged in a massive basin.
Inside the basin was water, its surface topped with a layer of ice. Standing before him was a hulking guard with a furious expression, a star-shaped scar etched onto his right cheek.
The guard spoke in a cold voice: "What is the matter? Don't you find this refreshing?"
The prisoner did not reply. He remained silent, his lips still quivering. The guard sighed and said: "Why make this difficult for yourself? Just tell me where the necklace is, and I will make your death swift and painless."
The guard was negotiating, but the prisoner did not utter a single word. The guard muttered: "Hmm, as you wish. I will leave you for a while. I am certain you will change your mind later. Otherwise, I will make everything you've endured so far feel like a mere massage. See you later... John."
The guard exited and slammed the door shut, the echo reverberating through the room. The prisoner remained alone, his body immersed in freezing water, his hands shackled to the ceiling, his frame shaking uncontrollably.
His eyes were lifeless. He whispered to himself: "John... Wh—Who is John? I don't remember anything from... Argh!"
Suddenly, a piercing headache struck him. He began to scream violently, his eyes turning a deep shade of red. His body swayed left and right like a fish pulled out of water, desperate for salvation.
The prisoner cried out: "Yes... Yes! I... I remember!" He lifted his head, staring at the black stone ceiling with a smile: "Yes, I know where it is."
Snow fell gently from the sky like mythical fairies dancing amidst the harsh winter. Through the white veil, a medium-built figure walked with confident strides, not flinching for a second.
With short black hair and black woolen clothes, John moved through the outdoors, heading toward his work with Captain Vlad. Even though his steps sank deep into the snow, nothing stopped him.
He continued walking until he reached an old hut near the waterway, where a medium-sized vessel was docked. He entered, greeted by the stench of liquor and decay, but he didn't care. He found an old man lying on the floor, surrounded by three or four bottles of wine.
The man was snoring loudly. John stepped forward, cleared the bottles away, and grabbed the Captain: "Hey, Captain! Wake up. It's time for work."
The Captain snorted and muttered: "Wha... What? Who... Who are you?" His voice was half-asleep and drunken.
John sighed: "It's me, Captain... John."
The Captain smiled, his tone shifting to joy: "Ahhh, dear Jean! I've missed you!" He threw his arms around John's shoulders and said: "Oh, where have you been? It's been years!"
John replied: "No, Captain. It's only been two days since our last fishing trip. And my name is John."
John sighed and thought to himself: "It's been a full year since I started working with Captain Vlad. It has truly been a strange year." He looked at his scarred arm: "I've dived into endless life-and-death situations with him. Moments where I thought I would die, but it seems my fate, like my body, refuses to bleed."
He added: "Despite this, this drunkard never changes. He stays intoxicated and often forgets the time, but he always paid me." John gripped the Captain and said: "Captain, wake up. The sun will rise in two hours. We must prepare."
After a great struggle, the Captain finally stood up, stumbling: "Ah... fine, fine. You're no fun, Jean." He added: "Alright, let's head to the boat. Prepare the fishing gear."
John replied in a sharp, cold voice: "Yes, Captain."
John went and untied the ropes, lowered the boat into the water, prepared the rudder, and put the gear in its place. All the while, the Captain sat in the boat, clutching a bottle and drinking, completely indifferent.
He trusted John because, during this year, John had learned everything he needed to know about fishing until it became a part of him. John stepped toward Vlad and said: "Everything is ready, Captain."
The Captain took a final swig, threw the bottle away, and stood up: "Then, let's set off!"
John headed to the hatch at the rear of the boat. He reached for a large bag, pulled out a Red Stone (Primitive Seal), and examined it carefully before quickly tossing it into the hatch: "The stones are in place."
The Captain started the engine. A sound like a faint explosion erupted beneath the boat, and the vessel surged forward.
The Captain said: "John, take the helm. I'll handle the navigation."
John gripped the wheel, maneuvering the boat with the fluidity born of his experience. After some time, the Captain raised his hand: "Stop, John."
John brought the boat to a halt: "Captain, is this the right spot?"
The Captain replied: "Why do you ask, John? Haven't you learned that there is no 'certain' spot? They might appear, or they might not."
John nodded: "Yes, Captain."
In truth, John went out with the Captain every day. Sometimes they were lucky, and the Ice Blade Fish would gather; other times, they wouldn't show up.
Their successful catch rate was three to five times a week; the other two days were failures. It was more than just skill; they needed luck.
John and the Captain waited in their spots as usual, standing like statues. The atmosphere between them was silent. Their only conversations were about the Captain's instructions or John reporting mechanical issues.
But this time, the Captain chuckled softly: "Ah, it's funny. A whole year has passed since the first time I saw you, boy."
John looked at him but said nothing. The Captain continued: "Do you know? The first time I saw you, I thought: 'Who is this cursed brat? Is he just a street rat or perhaps a thief?' But you weren't."
John remained silent, thinking: "I don't blame him. Anyone would suspect a child asking for work in such a dangerous trade." The Captain asked: "Do you know why I hired you, boy?"
John was surprised; this was their first real conversation in a long time. He thought for a moment: "Because I am fit for the job, and I follow your orders to the letter."
The Captain looked at him for a second, then shook his head: "No, boy. The main reason was our first meeting, when I rejected you repeatedly and even pointed a dagger at you."
"Anyone else, adult or child, would have surrendered or run away in terror." He laughed lightly: "But you didn't do any of that. You stayed in your place like an ice statue. You even stepped toward my dagger while it was aimed at your throat."
The Captain stepped toward John, pointing at his eyes: "And your blue eyes were fixed on me... I swear I felt a shiver down my spine! Those were the eyes of a predator, not a prey. I liked you from that moment, and that's why I wanted to see your true metal."
He sat back down: "Heh, and you haven't disappointed me."
John looked at him, his face cold and his heart colder. It was his nature not to care about praise or insults. People's opinions were his last concern. To him, anyone could offer praise, but what mattered was what lay behind those sweet words.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden change in the water's surface. Both looked at the sky; it had turned from black to gray. It was time for the hunt.
The Captain smiled: "You know what to do, boy."
John replied: "Yes, Captain."
John moved to his position on the right side of the boat and grabbed the bag of Red Stones. The Captain shouted: "Here they come, John! Get ready!"
Shadows appeared beneath the surface. Despite the darkness, the visibility wasn't completely obscured. As they gathered at a single point, the Captain yelled: "Now!"
John threw the Red Stones into the sea. After a few moments—just as it had happened dozens of times before—a massive, thundering explosion erupted, sent water towering into the air like a pillar.
Chunks of Ice Blade Fish fell back—some sliced, some pulverized. The Captain shouted: "Here they come! Hold the net tight!"
It was the same thick net. Some intact, living fish landed in their boat. Four fish fell, their weight rocking the boat violently. John covered them with the net, drew his dagger, and began stabbing them one by one in the gills until they died.
The Captain laughed hoarsely: "What a good catch!"
There were four fish: three large ones and one slightly smaller. They were in good condition.
John breathed a sigh of relief: "Yes... a good catch. I can get the medicine." But his joy was short-lived. The boat began to shake strangely. John asked: "Captain, what's wrong?"
He looked up and saw the Captain's face frozen, staring at the sea. John looked where he was pointing and saw a strange sight: shadows, but different. Smaller than the ice fish, but far more numerous and much faster!
John asked hesitantly: "C—Captain, what are those things?"
The Captain didn't speak, but sweat trickled down his forehead. He whispered tensely: "John... quickly, start the engine! We need to get out of here as fast as possible!"
John obeyed immediately. He threw the Red Stones into the hatch, and the boat surged forward at maximum speed, the wind whipping against their faces.
The Captain gripped the wheel, looking shocked. John asked: "Captain, what is it?"
The Captain remained silent, looking back with wide eyes. The small shadows were following the boat with insane speed.
The Captain yelled: "What are you waiting for? Put more stones in the hatch, you fool!"
John replied: "Captain, we won't have enough to get back!"
The Captain cut him off angrily: "Shut up and follow my orders!"
John was taken aback—this was the first time he had seen the Captain like this—but he added more stones, and the speed increased. Then, the Captain called out: "Come here, John."
John stood by him. The Captain told him: "Draw your dagger."
Before John could even pull it out, a creature leaped from the water toward his face, its mouth full of sharp teeth aimed at his head. The Captain swung his own dagger, stabbing the creature mid-air, killing it instantly before throwing it aside.
The creature was the size of a large cat but shaped like a black lizard with stark white eyes, long needle-like teeth, and a long tail. It looked like a chameleon.
The Captain yelled: "This is what we are facing, John. Get ready!"
John gathered his wits and drew his dagger. Those lizards were leaping from the water like spears. John and the Captain stood back-to-back, defending each other.
John shouted: "Captain, what are these creatures?"
"They are Black Pearl Lizards!" the Captain screamed. "They are extremely dangerous and fast. They feed primarily on Ice Blade Fish, and it seems the blood attracted them!"
John didn't ask further; survival was the only goal. After a period of resistance, the Captain shouted: "Throw more stones!" The boat was slowing down.
John said: "Captain, the stones are running out, and the boat is too heavy. We need to lighten the load."
They both looked at the fish. They threw the medium-sized fish into the water to distract the creatures. Even though it was their prize, what good was a catch if they were dead?
But the lizards were too many; not all of them followed the fish. The Captain gritted his teeth: "Throw all the fish!"
John was shocked, but he understood the situation. They threw the fish into the water. The number of lizards following them decreased, and the boat's speed increased.
But only for a short time. The shadows returned; four fish weren't enough to satisfy their hunger.
John asked: "Captain, what do we do?"
The Captain looked back, saw the shadows closing in, and muttered: "If only I had another bait, I would have survived..."
Then, an idea struck him. He turned his head toward John with wide, haunting eyes: "Boy... go to the back of the boat."
John was confused but obeyed: "I'm here. Now what?"
Before he could finish, a powerful hand gripped his neck from behind and lifted him high! John tried to resist, but he was too weak.
He saw the Captain's face; his eyes were cold enough to cut through iron. He whispered: "Sorry, son... it's not personal."
John gasped: "Wha—" But before he could finish, the Captain hurled him into the water!
He fell into the freezing depths. The sting of the cold spread through his body violently. His frame tried to fight for survival, but the extreme cold was paralyzing his limbs.
As his body went numb and he surrendered to the frigid abyss, it wasn't the cold, the drowning, or the predators that haunted his mind...
It was the Captain's cold gaze, and how he had thrown him without a second thought. But deep down, John wasn't surprised. He had always known that betrayal only comes from those closest to you.