Chapter 5 The Edge of the Knife

The primary source of food and economics in Harrison Port comes from fishing. In April, when the fish tide arrives, more than half of the port's workforce goes to help process the mass amounts of freshly caught fish, lining up at long tables to handle and salt them on a conveyor belt.

Living fish are placed on the table, the first person is responsible for chopping off the heads, then passing them to the second person, who opens the fish belly to remove the innards, and then handing over to the third person to pick out the bones. The fish carcass, now only flesh, is thrown into large buckets filled with brine that have been blessed by priests of the Huai Guang Church, to be salted for an entire day.

Afterward, the salted fish flesh is sent to an open area to dry for the next few days before being sold to various trading companies.

Ossenna was very familiar with this process. When his sister and brother-in-law were still alive, he was often called over to help and earn some pocket money.

Even though his sister would nag him to save more money for his old age, he never paid it much mind; that money would soon be spent on buying black mushrooms and was gone in no time.

And now.

The pungent smell of fish blood and sea salt mingled together, invading his nostrils; all he could hear was the droning buzz of mosquitoes.

When Ossenna awoke, he found himself firmly trapped on his own long table used for processing salted fish, his hands, feet, and even eyes bound with ropes and cloth strips, unable to move.

The reason he discovered this was because he heard the sound of a mosquito flapping its wings near his ear. Instinctively, Ossenna wanted to slap the pesky insect dead—a natural human instinct.

But he couldn't even attempt the action. The tough, waterlogged ropes held him tightly to the table, forcing him to listen helplessly to the mosquitos hovering and buzzing by his ears.

It was the ultimate torture.

The long table that had processed who knows how many fish still carried the strong scent of fish and a faint stench of decay. Bound upon it, Ossenna felt an urge to vomit, but with his mouth firmly stuffed with a ball of hemp cloth, all he could manage were muffled, barely audible whimpers.

At this moment, he was just like the sea fish that had been processed in an assembly line; now, he lay on the table, subject to someone else's disposal.

—What on earth is happening? What's been done to me?

Initially, Ossenna hadn't realized his predicament, but soon, with the lingering scent of flowers in his nose and mouth, he remembered exactly what had happened.

Yes... it was his nephew, Ian!

That damn kid attacked him with his own Sleep Powder, using a method like throwing a lime bag to take him down!

He had tied him to the table, and God knows what he planned to do...

After confirming it was Ian, Ossenna became even more perplexed, "How on earth did he find my Sleep Powder?"

Knowing full well, Sleep Powder is a precious resource that plays a vital role in many situations, a controlled substance of The Empire, quite rare, and something ordinary hunters can't afford.

Actually using it, the yield from a hunt might not even value as much as the Sleep Powder itself, as it's meant for those rare and precious beasts whose skins must not have a single cut or damage.

He had obtained a fair amount through relations with the Natives, always hiding it meticulously, fearing discovery.

That secret cabinet... even the town's best Hunter couldn't possibly find it!

Yet, unbeknownst to him, in Ian's Clairvoyant sight, his large stash of Sleep Powder shone brightly as if highlighted and transparent, making it effortlessly easy to find.

"Mmmph, mmmph!"

At this moment, Ossenna was still struggling; he could feel the ropes around his wrists becoming slightly loose. After all, he knew his own ropes, which had been used for seven or eight years already.

He had always taken second-hand items from his sister, Ian's mother, without ever buying new ones for himself.

After Ian's family fell into decline, Ossenna, unable to scrounge any more benefits, never renewed these infrequently used items.

"To dare ambush me..."

Ossenna gritted his teeth with hate in his heart. The reason he bullied Ian was that he saw the child as no threat to him; even if Ian resisted, he could easily be subdued, so he never worried when he struck, feeling quite safe instead.

But now, the previously harmless nephew had suddenly bared his fangs and bitten him. This made him feel both embarrassed and apprehensive.

"If Ian just wanted not to be beaten, I could agree to him for the moment. After all, he's just a child, and it's easy to deceive him."

Ossenna rubbed the ropes in his hands forcefully, intending to break free, but this obviously would take some time.

However, he had made up his mind: whether or not he could break the ropes, once he tricked Ian into untying him, he would definitely kill him—afterward, he would sell the body directly to those forest Natives and claim Ian had run out of the port to play and consequently gone missing!

Since the Guard Squad, which included Ian's father, collectively disappeared in a torrential downpour eight years ago, Harrison Port's guard system had yet to be fully reestablished, the fallen walls had not been repaired, and only the towers of each district remained intact.

Although the towers were for internal rather than external defense, it wasn't strange for kids to sneak out under such conditions. In previous years, there had been incidents of children being carried off by beasts at the river's edge. Regardless of prohibitions, there were always those who ran out.

Just like himself. If not for that, he would never have been able to secretly connect with the Natives outside the city.

Thump, thump, thump.

Just then, footsteps came from the old wooden boards.

Ossenna instinctively widened his eyes, which he had intended to use to roar or to say something, but at that moment he realized that his mouth had been completely gagged, unable to make any sound, whether to agree to terms, to deceive, or to beg.

It wasn't until then that Ossenna suddenly felt a chill run down his spine—

Did Ian gag his mouth because he had no intention of talking with him at all?!

"Mmmph! Mmmph!"

Ossenna immediately struggled violently, thrashing about. He writhed, like a worm, the man trying with all his might to break free from the ropes on his wrists, which was difficult but not impossible...

Then, he felt intense pain emanating from the very center of his palm.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The muffled sound of a hammer and nails rang out, as the nails pierced through flesh and blood and drove deep into the wooden table, nailing his already bound hands—still intending to cause trouble—firmly in place.

"Oooh!!!!"

Ossenna's eyes bulged, and had his mouth not been stuffed with cotton, the severe pain might have caused him to bite his own tongue off; even so, his breathing became erratic, and his eyes rolled back as he briefly passed out.

When he awoke once more, what he heard was a sound that drove him to the brink of madness with fear.

It was the sound of sharpening knives.

Schlick, schlick, schlick.

The Fish Dividing Knife was being honed, and for a moment, Ossenna imagined a series of sea fish being deftly beheaded before being split open and deboned.

In an instant, he was so scared that he wet himself.

"Sigh."

It was not until then that Ossenna could hear a childish sigh: "You shouldn't have woken up, Uncle. It would have been better to drift away in a daze."

It was just a sigh, yet the sound of knife-sharpening continued. Only after breaking the silence did Ian seem to open the floodgates of speech.

"I didn't expect you to be taken down so easily, so there's plenty of time left, no need to worry."

While sharpening the knife, the boy spoke in a surprisingly cheerful tone, mixed with a hint of retrospective fear and amazement, "To tell the truth, I was extremely nervous before tying you up... It was too fortuitous, too lucky, a million times smoother than I had imagined. No matter how well-prepared I was, there was never a one hundred percent chance of success, and any small mistake could have been fatal to me."

"I even prepared for the possibility that you might not inhale the Sleep Powder. I even repaired the corridor a bit and set a wooden board trap."

A wooden board trap? Even as the pain in his palms raged and fear made his entire body tremble, Ossenna couldn't help but picture the corridor of his home.

—Indeed, a wooden plank in the middle of the corridor was waterlogged and rotten, with a depressed mud pit beneath it, and with his lame leg, he was sure to trip and fall hard if he wasn't careful.

He had planned to find some time to have Ian fix it, or to beat him if he failed as a form of amusement...

"Besides that, I also placed a tripwire in the kitchen area, which would have been more than enough to deal with you."

Interrupting his uncle's delusions, Ian's voice drifted over again, but Ossenna's heart was beating so fast, it sounded somewhat distorted, and he couldn't hear it very clearly, "If you were smart enough to see through the Sleep Powder, the water pit, and the tripwire, then the last resort would have been to try to stab you with a hay fork, taking advantage of your difficulty in turning around."

"I was a bit worried that the skin of the adults in this world is too tough, so I purposely sharpened it a little extra."

A hay fork...

Ossenna remembered that when he was younger, he had heard several Sublimator jokes from some relatives in the Imperial Capital, one of which involved a Hunter who had been killed with a hay fork by a few farmers...

Though it was just a joke, it wasn't simply the hay fork that killed the Hunter, but it still showed how helpless the flesh and blood of Humans were against a hay fork.

"In fact, even if all preparations failed to kill you... I also prepared a way for us to die together."

In the end, the boy spoke softly, "Do you smell the algae oil lamp? And the brazier with the Spark, I placed it in the living room. If you really escape all the traps, and the hay fork can't kill you, I'll set this house on fire and die with you."

With that, the sound of Ian sharpening the knife stopped.

The boy stood up.

"Mmmmm! Mmmmmm!!"

Ossenna did indeed smell the fishy odor of algae oil, and the warmth of the brazier followed, as boundless fear immediately overwhelmed his soul, and he suddenly realized his fate.

—How could a nephew who had prepared so many plans and was even willing to die together just to kill him possibly give him any chance to escape, any possibility to survive?!

The reason he said so much was only to test his reactions, to confirm whether he had any accomplices, whether there were any contingencies... He was certain that his own demise wouldn't cause much trouble!

So, the man began to struggle violently, the wooden table creaked and groaned, as if he wanted to say something.

—I'm still useful! I know so much! Why the Natives are in such a hurry for a blood sacrifice, why the defenses of Harrison Port have been weak recently, why there are fewer and fewer trade caravans coming, why Lord Viscount has been sullen lately, that storm from eight years ago...

He really did know a lot.

But it was all utterly useless.

"You're very scared, aren't you? Feel free to be scared."

The boy's light, chuckling voice grew closer, even carrying a tinge of soft consolation, "Don't worry, Uncle, I won't give you any chance to cry out for help, and you don't need to utter a single word of your secrets, I won't listen, I can dig them out all by myself."

Even though his eyes were covered, Ossenna felt as if he could still see those indifferent, green eyes staring calmly at his body, much like a butcher gazes at a pig, or a Scholar at his research subject.

The aqua blue glints danced in the darkness, and with them rose the blade.

"I will show no mercy to you."

Squish, squish.

The sound of iron rending flesh and blood.