Chapter Eighteen: The Three Little Bears (Part Two)

A black bear, a white bear, and a panda. Three plush toys were lined up on the deck before Qiubai—these were what Airen had pulled out from the cabin earlier.

He certainly hadn’t considered those “guiding fish”; to make an analogy, these fish were like Moses on this ship—at least, they couldn’t die before crossing the sea. Airen’s young mind might not fully grasp their importance, but he certainly understood that they were not to be touched; their survival meant his own survival.

He knew what was off-limits and what wasn’t... It wasn’t a difficult concept, after all; no matter how mischievous a child, their life’s goal and guiding principle isn’t to eliminate their father. Even if such an achievement is accidentally attained, it would be unintentional—children may occasionally set traps for their parents, but rarely are they truly harmful.

“What are these?” Qiubai asked, his expression pained. If the brat dared say something like, “I’m offering the most precious thing of my life to my leader,” so full of childish love, Qiubai was ready to toss him into the sea without another word.

Dirty, about forty centimeters tall, the dolls were clearly not within Qiubai’s interests.

“Don’t you know, Boss? They’re bears,” Airen replied, his face filled with surprise, as if Qiubai should know everything.

Qiubai thought to himself—do I not know these are bears?

“I know they’re bears, and I know they’re a black bear, a white bear, and a black-and-white bear, but what’s the point? And where did you get them? These toys don’t match the vibe of this ship.”

To be precise, no one would waste money buying toys for this unlucky kid, and Airen didn’t look like the type who treasures plush toys.

Airen didn’t respond in words; instead, he demonstrated how the bears had come to him. For him, a practical demonstration was simpler than an explanation.

Without a word, he grabbed the black bear and tossed it into the sea, then took the fishing rod from Qiubai’s hands. With a gentle flick, the slightly heavier hook arced smoothly through the air and caught the doll as it bobbed among the waves stirred by the ship’s passage.

Airen’s thin, short arms lifted lightly, and the soaked doll was “fished” back up—clearly, these toys were ocean debris, hooked by him while practicing his fishing skills.

The fishing rod was originally Airen’s, and Qiubai’s use of it was technically unauthorized.

But...

With skills like these, should I be the one fishing for sea kings? If he gained a bit more strength, he could handle the task himself. Qiubai was amazed—he was a complete novice in this area, worse than a ten-year-old.

It was clear that unless he died in the doldrums, this child would never starve; he had already mastered a remarkable skill at a tender age.

And the way he handled the fishing rod—who truly hails from Whale Island?

“So, what are you implying?”

“Boss, bait,” Airen said, pointing at the bear plushies.

Well, theoretically, there’s nothing wrong with that; sea kings surely eat bears—perhaps they eat everything. But from a reasonable perspective, sea beasts would hardly have a preference for plush toys.

To use these to deceive naïve sea kings—doesn’t your conscience ache? Qiubai marveled at the child’s logic, but for a child, it wasn’t such a strange idea.

If he truly expected this bait to be effective, it was hard to say whether, in his imagination, sea kings were blind—but he certainly believed their minds were.

“Attach it.”

Knowing how absurd it was, Qiubai still had Airen tie one of the dolls to the line. Fishing for sea kings was already a ridiculous impossibility, and from the beginning, Qiubai had only been humoring the child out of boredom.

“Understood, Boss!”

But Airen thought differently. After saluting Qiubai, he began tying the bait, his tiny, guilty hands reaching for the white bear. He looped the fishing line around its armpits, then secured it firmly.

True to his heritage as the captain’s son, Airen tied a sailor’s knot with the fishing line, his technique surprisingly deft.

Yet Qiubai’s attention was elsewhere—while he bantered with the child, his gaze tracked Ai’en’s movements.

She was at the prow.

There wasn’t much space aboard the Giant; Qiubai could see her every action clearly.

Though a little late, Ai’en had one last human experiment to conduct to verify the captain’s method.

Stone dust was already being sprinkled down the funnel at the bow. After falling, the powder would slide along the hull to the wake behind the ship. According to Captain Grisha, the sea prism stone content in the dust would prevent the Giant from being detected by sea kings.

But did the powder really contain sea prism stone? Or was it just a “placebo”? Qiubai wasn’t sure.

So Ai’en inserted a finger into the funnel’s powder—devil fruit users were like walking sea prism stone test strips, their senses acutely attuned to anything that harmed them.

Or perhaps all fruit users were that sensitive.

Qiubai took this very seriously. If the powder was just powder, their voyage would be nearly hopeless. Though disembarking now was unlikely, and Qiubai had no intention to do so, at least he could mentally prepare himself.

Personally, even if he died in the doldrums, Qiubai wouldn’t regret his decision. On this ocean where anything could happen, the places he intended to visit were far more dangerous than the doldrums. If he balked at crossing them, he’d see his own limits.

“Fearless and undaunted” was his basic requirement for himself, a necessary will and precondition for certain goals. The aura of a strong man, commanding all, was inevitable. If only a few possessed such qualities, Qiubai believed he was among them.

Call it hubris or unwavering resolve, like a cliff unmoved by storms—“I am different from the rest,” Qiubai was sure of it.

So he would continue to be different.

At this moment, Ai’en withdrew her hand and turned, giving Qiubai a nod—the sea prism stone content was real.

Qiubai’s gaze softened; the captain was much more reliable than his son.

“Boss, it’s ready.”

Airen’s voice brought him back. Qiubai instinctively took the rod, and with a gentle flick, cast the line and “bait” into the sea.

But immediately, something felt off!

Was what he threw really a plush toy? It felt much heavier than a stuffed animal, more like... a piece of raw meat.

His intuition was right. Next, Qiubai heard a gnashing, terrified, furious, and bewildered shout: “Stupid human, let me go!”

The bait was not a bear plush, nor a real bear, but a fruit user disguised as a bear! Qiubai instantly deduced this.

What was their purpose aboard the ship? Qiubai didn’t know, but he was prepared to comply with their request.

Sometimes love means letting go.

But the creature below quickly corrected itself, “No, wait! Don’t let go, pull me up!”

“Help! Bear slaughter!”

The bear thrashed frantically in the water.

Qiubai looked on with mild disdain—what kind of reaction was that? There was once a famous bear in Asia, ugly but well-known, who said, “A bear should act like a bear,” didn’t he know?

Clearly, this one didn’t.

Airen, meanwhile, gaped at the rail, peering down in confusion—why had the bear come alive?

ps: Due to the huge gap in click rates compared to my previous book, and with the gap widening, this book has been steadily dropping in the new book rankings. I humbly ask for your support with your recommendation votes~