“Where are you now?” Bai Chunian asked through the speaker. “I’ll come find you.”
The drone’s signal flickered, Lan Bo’s voice distorted by static. The feed kept stuttering before finally cutting off entirely. Bai Chunian sat at the monitoring station, impatiently tapping his hand.
He abandoned the malfunctioning equipment and went up to the deck for air.
Dusk settled, the sea was calm, and a thin layer of white mist began covering the yacht.
This ship had been arranged by the IOA South America branch for Bai Chunian. Several operatives, posing as businessmen, were aboard carrying canned meat as a cover; Bai Chunian was simply hitching a ride.
A colleague from Havana stood on the deck, scanning west through binoculars. Bai Chunian walked over, leaning on the railing beside him.
The alpha, with a bronzed face and shining black eyes, spoke fluent English. He lowered his binoculars and greeted Bai Chunian with a nod.
“Brother, we’re in trouble.”
Bai Chunian shrugged. “Why?”
“This stretch of sea belongs to the merfolk,” the alpha said. “Just like in Greek mythology, these sea creatures lure humans, trick passing ships, and then kill the sailors for food.”
“Then why are we taking this route?” Bai Chunian asked, curious even though he had no objection to the challenge.
The alpha smiled. “Honestly, I just want to see live merfolk. There are plenty of operatives on board and enough weapons.”
The more capable someone is, the more likely they are to die out of curiosity—Bai Chunian found this perfectly reasonable.
“No one has seen a merfolk nest for years,” the alpha continued. “Ships and cruise liners vanish mysteriously in this area. Mermaid Island is even more mysterious and terrifying than the Bermuda Triangle. All electronic devices fail there.” He paused. “My grandfather barely escaped near Mermaid Island. He told me about it—he swore the island exists, but he never got in.”
Bai Chunian nodded.
From what Lan Bo had shown him, the place he lived was an immense shipwreck cluster, almost like an island, yet invisible to satellites. Its existence remained a mystery.
The alpha pulled out two pairs of earplugs, handing one to Bai Chunian. “For safety, want these?”
Bai Chunian took them.
The ship sailed slowly through the dense fog. Visibility dropped so low that people could barely see each other; the world had become an endless white void. Yet curiosity drew some forward, eager to see what was happening.
Bai Chunian didn’t wear earplugs. He believed in the legends but not in the merfolk being the threat—they weren’t like Lan Bo. The growing Lan Bo had been harmless, only nibbling on bits of plastic.
From deep in the mist came a long, haunting cry.
Everyone on the ship heard it, scattering toward the sound, each believing they knew the right direction. Some said it was a whale; others swore it was the cry of merfolk.
Bai Chunian knew exactly whose voice it was.
The alpha beside him shook him awake. “Hey brother, put in the earplugs—you’re about to get caught by the sea witch.”
“I’m willing. Go ahead and take me,” Bai Chunian said.
The alpha tried in vain to dissuade him and stepped back a few paces, convinced Bai Chunian had been bewitched.
The ethereal cries weaved together, forming a haunting melody. A voice, airy and gentle, sang from the fog—indistinguishable as male or female, or perhaps a mix of many voices. The incantation-like song echoed in everyone’s mind.
On deck, some knelt, dazed; some laughed hysterically; some wept; others wandered like the living dead, eyes vacant.
Bai Chunian felt as if gentle hands stroked his hair. He touched his face, and suddenly his eyelids were wet.
The ship’s autopilot died, refusing to restart; even the old compass spun wildly. They were adrift, controlled by some unseen force, moving toward the source of the beguiling song.
Above the fog, shadows of birds circled.
A massive bird landed on their mast. Eyes turned to it—yet it was no ordinary bird. A humanoid figure lounged on the mast, finned wings covered in scales sprouting from its back, curvaceous and alluring. Its legs were sheathed in scaled fins, hands with transparent webbing lightly traced red lips, and it blew a flying kiss to the humans below.
In the sky, countless similarly stunning bird-like beings hovered, scales shimmering in dim light.
Bai Chunian froze on the deck. Through the fog, a giant pointed silhouette emerged. Sitting atop it was a figure, vague but clearly visible.
The ship drifted uncontrollably toward the island, which grew clearer. The pointed shape turned out to be a partially submerged shipwreck, half of its cabin rising above the sea.
The wreck emitted a ghostly blue glow. The reef it rested on flickered with the same spectral light.
Hundreds of merfolk, their tails colored in various shades, sat atop the deck, singing. They leapt gracefully into the water, swimming toward Bai Chunian’s ship, soaring above the surface before diving back.
A blond merfolk waved from the ghostly ship, its translucent blue tail shimmering like starlight.
Bai Chunian stood on deck, separated from Lan Bo by what seemed like another world.
Their ship scraped a reef with a shrill crash. The deck shook violently. Just as the vessel was about to join the shipwreck cluster as another exhibit, its speed slowed.
Bai Chunian looked over the railing. The merfolk below had nudged the ship away from the island. Winged merfolk clutched kelp to halt the propellers.
They spouted jets of water, forming a staircase between the two vessels.
Lan Bo raised his slender tail, curling it into a heart shape midair. The tail’s tip wove letters: “i lv u,” glowing blue like an illuminated landing signal.
Bai Chunian snapped back to reality. Everyone else on deck had fainted, sprawled across the boards. Only the earplug-wearing fellow remained standing, looking out of place.
The young man from Havana stared dumbly at Bai Chunian. “Are they… welcoming us?”
Taking advantage of the man’s distraction, Bai Chunian struck the back of his neck with a punch, sending him down as well.
“This doesn’t concern you. They’re welcoming me.”
The water staircase connected the two ships. Bai Chunian’s vessel floated several meters below Lan Bo’s half-sunken luxury liner. The transparent steps of water led straight from his feet up to Lan Bo.
Lan Bo leapt lightly, diving into the water-formed staircase, swimming toward Bai Chunian, and pressed himself into his arms, whispering in his ear, “randi mebolu jeo? (Did the little kitten miss me?)”
“No, I need a moment.” Bai Chunian held Lan Bo with one arm while covering his heart with the other. “I can’t process this all at once. I thought you were just a village chief… but you’re a president.”
“En?”
“Nothing… I’m just… a commoner, unsure where to take my place.”
Lan Bo patted his head gently. “Good boy.”
“What should I call you?” Bai Chunian asked nervously, pacing the deck with him in his arms. “Siren—that’s your real name, right?”
“Lan Bo. I like Lan Bo.”
He gazed at Bai Chunian with unabashed indulgence.
Bai Chunian carried him up the water-formed staircase, toward the sprawling, magnificent ghostly island. He had never seen Lan Bo’s home before.
As they stepped onto the transparent stairs, a few merfolk climbed onto the deck, their hungry, greedy eyes fixed on the humans sprawled unconscious across the boards, drooling onto the deck.
Lan Bo silently turned toward them from Bai Chunian’s view, his expression stern, a silent warning: “nowa gurayi. (Do not eat.)”
The merfolk, wary of their king’s authority, retreated into the water, pushing the ship away from Mermaid Island.
The water staircase looked perfectly solid. Bai Chunian, trusting its shape, stepped forward—and fell into the water.
Yet he did not sink. A human-sized bubble enveloped him, keeping the water out. He stood upright, reaching outside the bubble; it didn’t break, and he could touch the surrounding seawater.
Lan Bo floated outside the bubble, laughing at him.
He swam behind Bai Chunian, pushing him toward the deep sea. Along the way, the merfolk bowed as they passed: “quaun.”
Bai Chunian asked, “They calling you?”
Lan Bo blinked, neither confirming nor denying.
They entered the twilight zone two hundred meters below the surface. Bai Chunian felt no pressure or breathing difficulty—he could move as easily as on land, the oxygen even fresher.
Fish teemed at this depth. Schools swarmed past him like a cloud of buzzing wasps; herrings darted rapidly beneath his feet.
Bai Chunian crouched, watching intently, and suddenly grabbed a herring, holding the struggling fish under his nose to smell it.
Lan Bo asked, “? Want to eat it?”
“No, I just want to see if it smells before being canned.”
Along the way, they encountered two pregnant omega merfolk strolling through the twilight zone. Both carried large bellies. Bai Chunian, as an alpha, instinctively kept his distance—but Lan Bo didn’t mind and pushed him toward them.
The two pregnant merfolk bowed with effort.
Lan Bo steadied them, hands lightly resting on their bellies, softly saying, “quaun blasyi kimo. (May the Queen bless you).” Blue bioluminescent jellyfish sparkled like falling starlight, resting atop their heads.
The omega merfolk noticed the blue fish markings on Bai Chunian’s shoulder and lowered their heads in awe. “quaun mit. (Thank you, Your Majesty).”
“Oh, hello, hello,” Bai Chunian said, puzzled, crouching in the bubble to watch.
Along the way, they frequently met different merfolk, many pregnant—both omega and alpha. Whenever Lan Bo encountered a merfolk carrying a baby, he would stop, release a blue jellyfish, and pronounce the Queen’s blessing.
If the merfolk held an infant, Lan Bo would hand the baby to Bai Chunian.
The tiny, tail-end babies were soft and small; Bai Chunian could cradle one entirely in his palms.
“Don’t give it to me! It’s so small, I might hurt it! Quick, catch it yourself.” Bai Chunian, unused to handling children and accustomed to guns, had rough, strong hands and feared squeezing the infant too hard, so he returned it quickly.
Lan Bo’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze worried. “Nowa? (Don’t like it?)”
He slowly swam back, returning the baby to its mother, gently resting a hand atop the little merfolk’s head, and handed her a slightly smaller jellyfish in consolation.