On the mainland, everyone was struggling just to survive.
But even in the last days, when most people worried about where their next meal would come from, there remained a certain class of people—those who claimed to stand above the rest. They hoarded precious time and resources, indulging themselves while the world collapsed.
That was why business at the port's black market was booming.
At the heart of the black market was a well-known underground auction house. It was said that here, anything could be bought and sold—even items strictly forbidden under the so-called Civilization Convention.
As long as you had the money.
Now, that very auction house was buzzing with activity. Yet below the commotion, in the quiet depths beneath it, a figure stood before a transparent tank.
The man leaned on a cane, resting one hand on the clear glass of the specialized tank. He gazed for a long time at the sleeping white mermaid inside, an obsessive glint in his eyes.
"He's beautiful, isn't he?"
The subordinate beside him wiped at the cold sweat trickling down his forehead, kept his eyes down, and nodded without daring to look directly at the man's face.
"Yes. He is."
This man with the cane was the black market's elusive master. No one knew his real name, but everyone knew the legend: he had built the black market from nothing. He was the most powerful man here, known to all as Earl Vale.
It was almost laughable.
In this apocalyptic world, the so-called royal families of nations had long been abandoned. Yet this man clung to the fantasy of noble blood, declaring himself an "Earl" because of his blond hair and blue eyes.
"He really is as beautiful as the mermaids in fairy tales."
Earl Vale sighed, a trace of affection in his voice as he stared at the mermaid.
Then his expression shifted. He turned his icy blue gaze on his subordinate.
"What's the damage?"
The man's sweat now poured freely, stinging his eyes. But he didn't dare wipe it.
"Three ships were lost. Heavy casualties. Only ten people made it back. Three of them are in critical condition, with severe internal bleeding… they may not survive."
The cost of capturing this mermaid had been paid in blood.
Yet instead of anger, Earl Vale's reaction was one of delight. He tapped his cane on the ground and let out a laugh.
"Excellent! Truly excellent! That just proves how magnificent my mermaid is. What a perfect creature."
In this brutal age, strength was worshipped. Earl Vale had no interest in delicate, bubble-like mermaids from fairy tales. He preferred the feral kind. Animalistic.
To tame such a creature was a thrill in itself.
"And the lab?" the subordinate asked weakly.
The sweat on his brow had already soaked his collar, but he still didn't dare raise a hand.
"What are you talking about?" Earl Vale smiled coldly. "We just caught a little white fish. Why would we inform the lab?"
The subordinate trembled and wisely kept his mouth shut.
Earl Vale turned his gaze back to the mermaid and sighed once more.
"So beautiful."
He had heard that when awake, this white mermaid was savage. His speed and strength rivaled that of a small shark. In addition to razor-sharp claws and fangs, he could secrete venom and produce sound waves capable of rupturing human organs.
If the mermaid hadn't been unfamiliar with their newly developed black-tech capture net, they would never have stood a chance. Capturing this one had been pure luck.
"You cost me a lot," Earl Vale muttered, knowing the mermaid couldn't hear him. "So tell me, how much do I have to sell you for to make up for it?"
A merchant at heart, Earl Vale calculated everything in terms of profit and loss.
He didn't mind cherishing his product. But that affection was simply a way to raise its value. The more he liked something, the higher the price he could sell it for.
That was how commodities worked.
Lansi woke up.
"Yi—"
He swam forward in a daze and bumped headfirst into a transparent wall.
Groggy, he pressed his webbed claws against it and finally realized—he had been captured.
He remembered the moment before he lost consciousness. He had known then that humans had caught him. Despair flooded him, but sadness weighed heavier.
What would happen to Winsor?
He had broken his promise. Would Winsor be caught too?
Fairy tale or not, it seemed the fate of a mermaid who reached the shore was never good.
Maybe it was the drugs still in his system or just sheer shock, but Lansi felt disconnected from his own body. His mind floated, slow and unsteady, as though wrapped in thick fog. He could barely focus, as if caught in a dream.
He leaned against the glass wall for a long time. Eventually, his drifting thoughts settled, and he forced himself to take stock of the situation.
It took everything he had to open his eyes fully.
He was inside a large glass tank, pressed up against one side. Lights installed at the base made everything around him glaringly bright.
He dragged his gaze away from his tail and peered out into the room, hoping to determine where he was. When he looked up, he froze.
A blond man with a cane stood outside, smiling at him.
Startled, Lansi coughed and let out a few frightened bubbles.
How long had the man been watching?
With his mermaid's sharp eyesight, Lansi could see straight past him. He realized this place must be some kind of basement or storage room—dark, with only the light from his tank and a ceiling lamp above.
There was only one exit, guarded by two large men. Escape was out of the question.
Half-dreaming, Lansi imagined bolting out the door, forgetting for a moment that he had no legs. The thought faded when he tried to move. His body refused to cooperate.
He slumped against the wall, weak and confused.
"Hello there," the blond man said, tapping the glass. "Beautiful little fish. Can you understand me?"
Lansi glared and rolled his eyes but said nothing.
His refusal to engage didn't seem to bother the man. He chuckled softly, as though indulging a child.
From Lansi's reactions—when he woke up, and even now—Earl Vale had already guessed the truth. This mermaid was highly intelligent. Perhaps even capable of understanding human speech.
And Vale, a seasoned merchant, could always sense value.
After a few moments, the man placed a hand on the glass and said, almost tenderly, "You can call me Earl Vale. I'm the master here."
Lansi tilted his head and made a confused chirp.
"This is the auction house," Earl Vale explained, his gaze tender but his words cruel.
"I'm going to sell you. I expect you'll fetch a sky-high price."
Lansi stared at him, stunned.
Earl Vale beamed with delight. The mermaid's reaction only confirmed what he suspected: high intelligence.
He let out a pleased sigh.
"You really do understand me."
Lansi didn't know how to respond. Was this what people meant by "no business without evil"?
"Amazing creature. You deserve to be studied," Vale said softly.
Studied?
A chilling image flashed through Lansi's mind—he was strapped to a table, surrounded by humans in white coats, scalpels in hand, discussing which parts to cut open.
Damn it. Were they going to send him to a lab?
"What's my little fish thinking about?" Vale smiled as he noticed the horror on Lansi's face. "Relax. I won't hurt you."
Lansi's expression darkened. Who would believe that?
If he weren't paralyzed, he'd have launched himself at the glass and bitten this man.
"Don't get any ideas," Vale said calmly, tapping his cane against the tank. "That's bulletproof glass. Military grade. You won't be breaking it."
Lansi glared at him but said nothing. Was this man a mind reader? Why did he always seem to know exactly what Lansi was thinking?
He averted his gaze, pretending to be dumb. If they thought he was smart, he'd be in more danger.
Vale didn't mind being ignored. He continued speaking to Lansi like an old friend.
"Well, I should tell you what's going to happen next."
Lansi flicked his tail uneasily.
"You'll be undergoing a minor procedure. Nothing serious," Vale said lightly. "Just a bit of after-sales service."
His voice remained cheerful, but the meaning behind it chilled Lansi to the bone.
"This operation will make you harmless. It'll hurt a little, but don't fight it."
Lansi's eyes widened in panic.
Yes. Humans even declawed their cats—of course they'd remove a mermaid's fangs and claws.
"Ya—yi—!" Lansi screamed in panic, unleashing a powerful burst of sound.
The tank vibrated violently. The water churned and boiled from the sonic force, but the glass box held firm.
Lansi collapsed, stunned. The tank was undamaged.
"How terrifying," Vale mused once Lansi had gone quiet. He tapped the glass again. "Good thing we drugged you beforehand. And built this with top-grade materials."
He then fiddled with a mechanism at the top of the tank. A small port opened, and a syringe-like device extended into the water.
Blue liquid seeped in.
The water turned bitter. Lansi instantly recognized it as more sedative. But he had nowhere to go. Nowhere to run.
His limbs went numb again. Just before everything went dark, he managed to lift his head.
Vale was giving instructions to the guards as they moved the tank, and then he turned away, limping off with his cane.
"Heart rate's spiking—"
"Damn, it's… it's off the charts—"
"Pacemaker's useless—he's crashing—"
When Lansi regained consciousness, hours had passed.
He was no longer in the dim basement. This tank was larger, taking up nearly an entire wall. The ceiling loomed high above, and opposite the glass wall was a balcony.
Beyond the balcony, he could see the ocean.
The sea?
Lansi perked up and wagged his tail eagerly.
So close. Could he escape? Break out of this prison, dive off the balcony, and return to the sea?
Why did being a mermaid always seem to come with jailbreak fantasies?
As the thought circled his mind, frustration swelled. He scratched furiously at the glass, his shortened nails leaving harsh screeching sounds.
"Little fish is awake?" Vale entered, wearing only a bathrobe and holding a bag full of silver fish.
Seeing Lansi clawing at the glass, he chuckled fondly.
"Don't do that. You'll break your nails."
Lansi responded by rolling his eyes so hard, they might have spun.