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墨書 Inktalez
When I raised the torch, especially when I extended it towards him, Fatty came out in a vicious tone. "Grass." I think the scene in front of me poured a ladle of water colder than Underground River in everyone's heart. The physical characteristics of Piranha are easily identifiable, with a discus-like body shape, flat sides, and a dark back that blends into the Underground River water. But the group in front of me should be the Piranha that caused this wave of water. They are actually jumping out of the Pavement with all their strength, exposing their bright red bellies. Also revealing Pavement are their jagged, triangular teeth. Piranha I saw it when I was working in the south. This kind of fish has a bad reputation, but in fact it is not as scary as the legend says. Especially when their population does not reach an alarming number, this kind of fish is very bold and shy. They basically will not provoke fish larger than themselves, and will even look for scavengers to survive. But Blood Smell will stimulate their central nervous system. After being stimulated by Blood Smell, even a single Piranha,☆, will attack the bleeding animal crazily. The size of this kind of fish is generally not large, especially for Subspecies. The largest one I have ever seen is no more than fifteen centimeters. But the group in front of me forms a winding attack line, pushing the water towards the center of the Underground River. The size of Piranha is far larger than any Subspecies I have ever seen. At a glance. Each one is over twenty centimeters. You can imagine how tragic the consequences will be if caught up by such a group of Piranha. Fatty's upper body is still trying its best to lean to the side of the boat to ensure the balance of the boat. He turned his face desperately and yelled at me: "Turn around and paddle to the other side!" The white waves were already very close to us. Of course, it is closer to Fatty. The blood-red eyes of Fatty are exactly the same as the red eyes of Piranha in the background. The difference is that Fatty's eyes are full of anger and fear, while Crimson Eyes in the background are cold and emotionless. The roar of Fatty seemed to anger the approaching Piranha, and I saw them jumping out of Pavement even higher. Their blood-red eyes, sharp teeth, and bright red belly gave me a greater visual impact. The waterline of the flat-bottomed boat is not deep, and the distance between the bow and Pavement is only half a foot. This group of Piranha can jump high enough to jump into the cabin. The most tragic thing is probably Fatty, who stuck out his upper body. I am afraid that I don’t have to wait for the fish to jump into the cabin to bear the brunt of the attack, and may even become the main and complete target of the attack. As long as a piece of flesh is torn off his body or face by a Piranha, his blood will attract all Piranha's attacks. I know retreating to the other side of the Underground River is my only option. Whether Fatty is attacked or he retreats to the cabin in fear, we will all be capsized here, writhing and dying in pain. The only difference is whether you saw someone, namely Fatty, being bitten to death by Piranha School. Maybe the latter will put more mental pressure on you. "I know." I shouted to Fatty: "Don't go back all at once. You have to keep the balance of the boat when turning around. Be smart, keep the balance and go back slowly. At this time, the boat will capsize. There’s no fucking solution.” “There’s so much nonsense, you still need to teach me,” Fatty bared his teeth and yelled. But I saw beads of sweat on his forehead. I really don’t know that this guy is scared sometimes.
I snapped my fingers in front of Tang Yumo, who was already in a daze. I gestured towards the direction each of us was supposed to row. A few brief words escaped my lips. "Turn around, row towards the opposite shore."
To stabilize the boat while turning, both of us needed to exert equal force in opposite directions, and we had to pay close attention to Fatty's movements. It required tight coordination among the three of us. Any slight misstep could capsize the boat.
So I pointed at Fatty and added to Tang Yumo, "Coordinate well with him."
Tang Yumo's dazed gaze returned from the distance, as if waking from a dream, yet she remained motionless.
"Are you stupid?!" Fatty shouted, clearly displeased with Tang Yumo's trance.
"Don't turn around, keep rowing forward!" Jack yelled.
"Are you crazy?!" I shouted, pointing at the Piranha School less than ten meters away, their waves crashing ominously. "Do you think they only attack those with thick flesh? No! If they catch up to us, none of us will escape. Do you want to know how you'll die? Don't you want to know what hell looks like? Let me tell you, in this scenario, hell will be what you long for."
"I don't want to follow them," Jack said, gesturing toward the imminent Piranha School and then pointing into the dark sky. "It's more likely that they're acting on their own will. If they possess some intelligence—and it seems very likely—they should know that Piranhas can't catch up with us; they're driving us towards the opposite shore."
A chill ran through me as I realized this possibility. But the current situation was a choice between immediate danger and future peril. If we couldn't get past this hurdle, there would be no future.
Fatty wouldn't hold back, especially not with me, let alone with this American guy he always clashed with. "Damn it. I can't rely on Americans; they only care about their own interests. You don't want to act according to their wishes? Fine! You come here and stabilize the boat. It's easy to talk when you're standing!"
"Are you scared?"
I knew Jack's seemingly casual remark was a sharp dagger aimed at Fatty. For Fatty to admit fear was harder than death itself.
"Damn it, stop trying to provoke me with that crap. Scared? I don’t even know what that is. But I'm curious if you're scared, grandson; I'm watching you closely—don’t wet yourself."
I looked at Fatty with a bit of sympathy as he strained to turn his head; sweat poured down his forehead into his eyes.
Suddenly, I noticed that the wind had changed direction. It wasn't that the crosswind had disappeared; rather, winds were blowing from multiple directions. The only direction without wind was across the river—the side where Fatty and I initially planned to escape.
However, the strength of the crosswind had noticeably weakened, giving me the impression that its force had dispersed. This meant that the lateral wind pressure on the boat had significantly decreased; Fatty could finally retreat back into the cabin. As long as he leaned into the crosswind, he could maintain balance for the boat.
"It's time. Keep your balance."
Suddenly, Jack shouted. He then aimed his automatic rifle toward the air above the bow of the ship.
"Tap, tap, tap."
The muzzle spat out a tongue of fire, and bullets shot into the darkness like a line of meteors.
Reloading with one hand was not a skill unique to anyone. In the moment he turned, Jack completed the reloading and chambering action. This time, the muzzle was aimed at the air above the stern of the ship.
"Tap, tap, tap."
As this burst of bullets finished, Jack shouted loudly, "Turn around and charge!"
Bullets flew over my head, and my mind was stunned either from the shock or fear. In my daze, I saw that Jack was pointing toward the waves stirred up by the Piranha.
(To Be Continued...)
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