Lansi was getting desperate.
At the moment, he was being sucked on by six killer whales.
To be precise, Lansi was surrounded by them, each one sucking on him in their own strange way.
It wasn't the sensation itself that left Lansi speechless, but the concept of being "sucked" like this that utterly baffled him.
Humans can cuddle cats. Cats can flop down and let humans do whatever they want. That's mutual affection.
But why did he, a human—well, half-human now—have to manually assist these killer whales while they were "sucking" him?
It felt like the worst trade deal in history.
Lansi leaned on the baby killer whale and absentmindedly patted the other five with his hands, all while pondering this strange philosophical problem.
Maybe this was what empathy truly meant?
He remembered going to the zoo as a child. Back then, he thought he was watching the animals. But now, after today, he was starting to think maybe the animals were the ones watching the humans through the glass, judging them as they passed by.
And now? Clearly, he was the one being studied—and manhandled—by six overly affectionate killer whales.
Since he was too small for them to cuddle the usual way, they had apparently all agreed to let him do the touching. As a result, when they "sucked" on him, he had to be the one to pet them.
One after another, the killer whales lined up like kindergarteners waiting for tickles, each one taking turns.
If any human had seen this scene, they might've sighed in awe, thinking, Look how harmonious nature is! The killer whales are so friendly with him!
But in reality, the killer whales were being shameless freeloaders.
After rubbing one whale's head, Lansi was immediately approached by another, staring up at him with puppy eyes.
Slap!
Lansi smacked the whale's face with a flipper and snapped:
"Don't think I can't tell who you are! I already said that was the last round! Why are you lining up again?!"
He had just finished three full rounds of tickles. He had explicitly said that was the final round. But since he couldn't tell them apart, the whales had sneakily joined the queue again, hoping he wouldn't notice.
Shameless.
If he hadn't spotted a small white mark on one of them and realized he'd already tickled it, he might've started a fourth round.
This wasn't just exhausting—it was unpaid labor!
He was furious.
Back at university, when he played with stray cats, at least he fed them afterward. That was mutual exchange. But these killer whales? They offered nothing and just wanted free service!
The slapped killer whale froze in surprise.
The others looked equally dumbfounded.
Maybe, to them, Lansi had seemed soft and easygoing at first. A chill sea creature with good temperament. But then—wham! A slap to the face, just like a cat who had enough of being petted and launched a surprise attack with its little paw.
Taking advantage of their confusion, Lansi scowled and said:
"I'm starving. Why am I still tickling you guys? Go play by yourselves, I'm going to find something to eat!"
The baby killer whale, who had been happily enjoying Lansi's company, panicked at the sudden change in mood.
"Don't be mad! I'm sorry! We didn't know you hadn't eaten yet. Do you want me to ask my brothers to help catch some fish for you?"
Lansi didn't answer. He snorted, flicked his tail, and darted off in the direction the dark blue fish had escaped.
But what Lansi didn't expect was that this group of killer whales was truly shameless.
Forget the slap. Why were they still following him?
Humans knew when to take a hint. These guys didn't.
No matter where he went, they followed behind, looming like enormous shadows. And thanks to their terrifying presence, every fish nearby darted away the second Lansi got close.
Was it because they feared him?
Of course not.
They were running from the six killer whales following him like bodyguards. If his tail wasn't enough of a giveaway, the black-and-white orca entourage might as well have been carrying a huge glowing sign that said:
"COME CLOSER AND YOU DIE."
With those thugs flanking him, Lansi looked less like a gentle mermaid and more like a mafia prince guarded by a team of silent, deadly enforcers.
No matter how soft and innocent he looked, the killer whales exuded pure menace. It was enough to send entire schools of fish scattering.
Every time Lansi turned his head, the six whales scrambled to act casual, pretending they just happened to be swimming by.
Lansi rolled his eyes.
Seriously? Did they think he was an idiot?
The ocean wasn't silent. Their breathing was loud. And that chubby one trying to hide behind a pebble? Come on. A whole reef couldn't hide his orca bulk.
"You guys are driving me crazy," Lansi muttered under his breath.
After hanging around that snarky hermit crab for too long, Lansi was starting to pick up its tone.
"I haven't eaten in ages. If you keep this up, I'll eat you instead!"
He'd had enough fish to last a lifetime, but he'd never tried whale sashimi.
Each killer whale was easily a dozen times his size. One fin could squash him flat. But when Lansi yelled, they all flinched like guilty puppies.
They pushed each other around nervously until finally, they shoved the baby killer whale forward.
Still dazed, the little one blinked at Lansi.
"What do you want to eat? We'll get it for you!"
Lansi looked at the sky. At this point, he didn't feel like chasing after that slippery dark blue fish anymore.
"I want the fish you caught earlier!" he declared.
"Ah... but they got away..."
The baby killer whale looked embarrassed, but before he could finish, the others jabbed him with their fins.
He quickly changed tune.
"No problem! Just wait here, we'll go catch them again!"
Before Lansi could respond, the whales dove into action, calling to one another before darting off. It was almost militaristic, like a well-trained squad executing a mission.
No wonder they were called the gangsters of the sea.
Lansi crossed his arms and watched them go, unimpressed.
It turned out those fish were really hard to find.
Eventually, the killer whales returned.
Four of them were empty-handed. One had caught two fish.
Sitting on a rock, Lansi watched as they presented their prizes like royal tributes. The baby killer whale, acting as a tour guide, whispered beside him:
"These are really rare fish. Even for us killer whales, it's hard to find them."
"Hmph," Lansi grunted.
"But look—this is amazing! We almost never find these, and yet you did on your very first day here. You must be our lucky star!"
"Where's the fish?" Lansi deadpanned.
The baby killer whale motioned, and the successful hunters approached Lansi carefully. They opened their mouths...
Swoosh swoosh swoosh!
Four fish shot out like missiles.
Lansi's reflexes kicked in. He snatched two out of the air, but the rest got away.
Clearly, this feeding method needed work.
The baby killer whale tilted its head.
"Mom said it's better to eat them alive."
Lansi stared at it in disbelief.
He now had one fish in each hand, both wriggling madly. How was he supposed to eat like this?
"Enough. I'm done playing with you."
Clutching his fish, Lansi flicked his tail.
"It's getting dark. I need to go."
"Wait! Are you coming back tomorrow?"
The baby killer whale trailed after him eagerly.
Lansi didn't answer. If being surrounded and slapped by killer whales was part of the deal, then... no thanks.
"We'll catch your next dinner too!"
The baby whale tried to sweeten the deal.
"Really!"
Lansi sneered.
"Okay okay, next time, we won't slap you."
The baby whale gave in, making a new offer.
"Just... maybe look at us a little."
That earned it a rare glance from Lansi.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything!"
The baby whale perked up.
"Are you the leader of your group? And why didn't I see you here before?"
"No way. I'm still young. Just the only one who mutated."
That explained a lot.
Lansi squinted at the little whale, trying to spot anything different. Nothing obvious stood out. Maybe the change would become clearer as it grew.
"We just swam here today," the whale added.
"My grandma said we're old enough to leave the group and try catching fish on our own."
Then it asked:
"Lansi, are you going home now?"
The mention of home made Lansi think of Winsor waiting in the cabin. His expression softened.
"Yeah."
"Oh? So you have a family? Can you bring him next time?"
Lansi's lips twitched.
Why would he do that?
Winsor wasn't as easygoing as he was. These whales would probably get punched.
He remembered Winsor clocking Quirrell before. If he brought him here, Winsor would probably beat the killer whales black and blue. And when their parents showed up later? Sunset Bay would be in chaos.
Eventually, the baby whale stopped swimming.
"I can only take you this far. See you tomorrow."
Lansi paused, surprised.
"Why?"
The whales gathered in a little huddle and stared at Lansi, unmoving.
"This is Quirrell's territory," the baby whale explained.
"If we go further, he'll pick a fight with us."
"You know his name?"
Lansi raised an eyebrow.
"Of course. The humpback whale told everyone in the group chat not to mess with him. Quirrell's the one who knocks on ships like a maniac."
Lansi winced.
"Sounds about right."
That humpback must have been the "major" in the chat group.
"Oh, and Lansi, if there's anything else you want to eat, just tell me. Don't go too far from Sunset Bay for now."
"Why not?"
"Grandma said some humans have been coming around lately. We don't know what they're looking for. But be careful."
"Isn't this place called the Dockyard Graveyard? Aren't humans afraid of sunken ships?"
Lansi was skeptical.
But the baby killer whale understood and replied seriously:
"They're looking for something. And lately, they've been trying to find sea monsters too."
That was why, despite liking humans, most killer whales kept their distance.
Normally, humans and killer whales got along. But in desperate times, desperation made humans forget their kindness.
To them now, killer whales were just big fish that could be eaten.
And if one of those whales had mutated—like the baby whale—then all the better.
Lansi thought for a moment and nodded.
"I understand."
He turned and left.
After the white mermaid disappeared from view, the baby whale blinked and smacked its lips.
"Wait... does that mean we missed curfew again?"
The five killer whales exchanged looks and groaned.
"We're so getting scolded when we get back."