[Hurry, hurry.]
The little killer whale let out a frantic cry, slapping its fins against the water in panic. It was afraid the humans would discover Lansi.
Lansi had hesitated at first, but it became clear that the distant ship had noticed something unusual and was now changing course toward the island.
To avoid being seen, Lansi gritted his teeth and dove back into the sea, hiding behind a nearby reef while observing the little killer whale.
What troubled Lansi wasn't whether to leave the baby whale behind, but something else entirely. In order to keep the baby killer whale hydrated, he had draped it in a pile of his own clothes. His suitcase was still beside the whale. If the humans spotted the baby orca, they would surely notice the clothes too.
And then they'd ask the obvious question—on a deserted island, who dressed a killer whale?
That was Lansi's biggest mistake.
The ship was fast and reached the uninhabited island in no time.
It stopped offshore, and several crew members stood on deck, staring at the killer whale lying on the beach.
They muttered to each other. One young man pointed at the whale and shouted, "There's a sea monster!" The others said nothing, but unease flickered across their faces.
From behind a rock, Lansi held his breath and watched.
The clothes on the baby whale made the crew wary. A middle-aged man stepped out of the cabin, glanced at the scene, and quickly went back inside.
Soon, the ship moved again. It circled the island and then slowly disappeared from sight.
Only after the boat became a distant black dot did Lansi finally exhale and rush over to check on the little killer whale.
The baby was crying on the beach.
[I was so scared. I thought I was going to die.]
Lansi gently stroked the baby whale. He removed the now-dry clothes, soaked them again in seawater, and carefully placed them back over the little orca.
Still, worry lingered in his mind.
Had those people truly left?
The whale had been stranded too long. Even after Lansi splashed water over it, the little one quickly lost strength.
He caressed the baby whale's head, his expression dark with concern.
Was he about to witness death?
[I heard my grandma say that mermaids can sing in human stories,] the little killer whale said weakly. [Lansi, can you sing?]
Lansi gave a small smile.
At the little whale's request, he gently touched it and began to hum a tune he didn't even recognize.
The melody was soft and slow. Carried on the sea breeze, it seemed to lift the soul from the ocean, letting it soar freely across the waves.
[It feels like basking in the sun beneath the sea,] the little whale whispered. [So warm, so comforting.]
Hearing that made Lansi feel a bit better.
He sat beside the whale, letting the breeze brush against his skin while he searched for ways to lift the creature's spirits.
But the peace didn't last.
Suddenly, Lansi twitched. His sensitive ear fins had caught an unfamiliar sound—click, click—growing louder.
It was the sound of a propeller.
Horrified, Lansi looked toward the horizon and saw a black helicopter approaching. Not far behind, the sea splashed as several dark objects dropped into the water.
Even stranger, a fleet of oddly shaped airships emerged from the mist, gliding ghostlike across the water.
[Run!] the little killer whale cried, slapping Lansi with a fin.
Lansi understood immediately. The earlier ship hadn't retreated, it had gone to report.
Without hesitation, Lansi turned and dove into the sea.
In that desperate moment, he didn't think about the baby whale. He knew the people coming weren't here for a stranded orca. They were after something far more valuable—a mermaid.
He swam as fast as he could, his tail slicing through the water. His goal was simple: return to Sunset Bay.
He didn't believe that those two sea monsters couldn't stop these humans.
Lansi pushed his speed to the limit.
But the people who had come were clearly prepared. Several ships blocked off the surrounding waters. Underwater, devices were launched. The operation was calm, well-organized, and methodical.
Lansi's frantic escape didn't rattle them in the slightest.
Panic surged in Lansi's chest. He couldn't be caught. He didn't want to be dissected, or worse, used as a living experiment.
His mind nearly shut down from fear. He almost forgot how to call for help.
Soon, Sunset Bay came into view. A sense of hope bloomed in his chest.
Then, without warning, he slammed into something hard with a sharp bang.
Stunned, Lansi sprawled against a transparent barrier. He had swum straight into a trap.
An invisible net.
"Ya—ka—"
Lansi's breath caught. He had no idea humans possessed such technology.
The transparent web resembled a giant spider's web. It had no visible gaps, yet it clung tightly to his body.
Panicking, Lansi clawed at it with his sharp nails. But these were the same nails that could snap coral bones—and they didn't even leave a scratch.
His throat went dry.
No wonder they weren't in a hurry. With this level of technology, escape was impossible.
Once they confirmed he was caught, the net began to shift and rise, dragging Lansi toward the surface.
He struggled, thrashing so hard that several scales from his tail tore off, but the net held fast.
He looked like a trapped white butterfly, helpless against the web.
Moments later, he heard several soft splashes. Divers dropped into the water.
They didn't approach right away. Dressed in full suits, they hovered at a distance, observing him with strange instruments.
They were afraid.
Even though Lansi looked like a fairytale mermaid—small, elegant, and seemingly harmless—they didn't know what he was capable of.
After all, the most beautiful snake is often the most venomous.
Lansi stopped trying to tear the net and instead let out a piercing scream as a final warning.
The divers flinched. Some exchanged glances through their helmets. A few seconds later, they threw aside their equipment and swam toward him.
"Ka—!"
As they drew closer, Lansi screamed again, this time unleashing a powerful infrasound.
One diver froze, stunned. The others immediately covered their ears.
Seizing the chance, Lansi gritted his teeth and wrenched his body free from the net, tearing through it even as scales peeled off his tail.
White scales drifted through the water.
Ignoring the pain, Lansi darted upward, desperate to escape.
That was his biggest mistake.
The divers recovered quickly. Realizing he was escaping, they grabbed their weapons and gave chase.
Lansi breached the surface in a desperate leap.
He never saw it coming.
The crew on the ship had been waiting for this. The moment Lansi emerged, someone pulled the trigger.
A red anesthesia dart struck his tail.
Pain surged through him. He crashed back into the water, numbness creeping rapidly through his body.
Another wave of darts followed. The burning pain made him scream in rage.
Finally, Lansi snapped.
All traces of his former humanity vanished. He attacked.
Like a fish tossed into boiling oil, he thrashed violently in the water, his screams becoming sharper and more chaotic. His webbed fingers glowed faintly with purple light.
The transparent trap began to tear apart under the pressure of his fury.
The humans fared worse. As Lansi's scream reached a higher frequency, one diver's helmet suddenly filled with blood—the head inside had exploded.
His body floated limply as the others recoiled in terror.
But it was too late.
Lansi's instincts had taken over. He clawed and bit at the divers. With venom and fury, he slaughtered anyone who came close.
The sea turned red.
Yet his strength couldn't last forever.
Despite his efforts to stay awake, the tranquilizer took hold. His movements slowed, and finally, he collapsed on the surface of the water.
Dizzy and weak, he gave up the fight and lost consciousness.
The ships moved in.
Using nets, they hauled the white mermaid from the sea.
Once pure and unblemished, Lansi's body was now stained with blood.
Curled in the net, his white tail fin quivered. Red streaks ran across his scales like a sea spirit with shattered wings.
Not far away, aboard a nearby fishing boat, Xiao Ding watched everything with shining eyes. His face was flushed with excitement.
Luo Hu stood beside him, anxious. Something about this felt deeply wrong.
"Let's go," he urged the captain.
"Go? Why?" the captain barked, laughing harshly. His eyes were bloodshot. He stared at the white mermaid with a look of madness.
"I still want my reward."
After the mermaid was secured in a transparent container, the helicopter above lowered a cable, hooked the box, and swiftly flew away.
None of them cared about the baby killer whale still stranded on the beach.
The little whale whimpered softly. Then, moments after Lansi was taken, it let out a long, piercing cry.
Something answered.
With a crash, a wrecked ship broke the surface of the water.
Xiao Ding and the others were stunned.
The ship that surfaced lay between their own vessel and the one that had captured the mermaid.
It was an old, rust-covered wreck, clearly long sunken—but strangely clean, without even a trace of seaweed.
Almost as if someone still cleaned it daily.
But no crew could be seen.
Because any crew on that ship would be ghosts.
In seafaring lore, such a vessel was called a ghost ship. Its appearance was a curse, a warning.
A whirlpool formed near the ship, and from its center emerged a massive red pincer.
Xiao Ding stared, frozen. A long-forgotten terror returned, one from his childhood nightmares.
He felt his soul lift from his body. The world faded into silence.
The enormous pincer slammed down.
The ship carrying the hunters shattered into splinters.
That day, the screams of humans once again echoed over the sea.
And Xiao Ding? He had said before, "I can die without regrets if I see a sea monster."
In the end, his short life was fulfilled.