Chapter 89
The blue whale wants to meet him?
Wen Xin paused, puzzled.
His instincts told him that the blue whale’s request to see him wasn’t solely about letting Lan Tuan leave with him.
This brought back memories of stories he had heard long ago from his instructors about the legendary blue whale.
Even as mere tales, the explorers’ accounts of facing ultra-dangerous mutants conveyed a sense of sheer terror.
Now, having witnessed such a creature with his own eyes, that awe had only grown stronger. The sight of the blue whale’s rage had etched itself deeply into his mind.
When the blue whale became furious, the ocean churned with hundred-meter waves, its roar like a ferocious beast reverberating across the sea.
Wen Xin vividly recalled standing aboard the whaling ship, his feet slipping repeatedly on the drenched deck. The vessel had tilted to nearly a 90-degree angle with the sea, below which the tumultuous waves resembled a monster’s gaping maw.
Clinging desperately to the railing, he felt as fragile as a lone leaf, swaying unsteadily amidst the storm’s wrath.
That overwhelming sense of powerlessness was something Wen Xin could never forget.
Lost in thought, he didn’t notice Lan Tuan’s curious gaze until the baby walrus called out, “Wen Xin?”
Snapping back to the present, Wen Xin smiled reassuringly. “It’s nothing.”
Reaching out, he ruffled Lan Tuan’s head. “If I’m taking you with me, it’s only right to meet your teacher.”
Lan Tuan let out a soft gurgle, as if agreeing with his words.
Unnoticed, Ah Lü had approached and now stood behind them, its prideful demeanor unmistakable as it cast a sidelong glance at Lan Tuan.
Lan Tuan blinked. “?”
Having been occupied with tending to the blue whale’s injuries, Lan Tuan hadn’t seen Ah Lü and the others for a few days. He had no idea what might have transpired during that time, leaving him a bit confused.
Ah Lü maintained its majestic posture, strutting to Wen Xin’s feet before speaking in a leisurely tone. “Wen Xin, I just saw a small green snake behind the house.”
Wen Xin’s face took on a similar look of confusion as Lan Tuan’s.
Ah Lü continued, hinting pointedly, “Its scales were beautiful—just like the one I brought to you before.”
Catching the keyword, Wen Xin noticed Ah Lü’s expectant expression and suddenly understood. “Ah… right.”
“I saw it a few days ago too—a very beautiful little snake.”
Very beautiful!
Ah Lü immediately lifted its head high, puffing with pride. It shot another smug glance at Lan Tuan, its expression practically screaming: Did you hear that? You’re just “cute,” but I am “very” beautiful!
Lan Tuan wasn’t quite sure how to interpret Ah Lü’s gaze, but the snake’s arrogance was so blatant it practically wrote itself on its face.
Lan Tuan: “…”
And this is why snakes are so petty—you can’t afford to offend them easily.
While Ah Lü and San San remained onshore, Wen Xin followed Lan Tuan into the water.
The sea, tranquil and calm now, was a far cry from its violent rage just days before. Warm sunlight shimmered gently on the surface, swaying with the waves in a soothing rhythm.
But the deeper they dove, the dimmer the light grew.
By the time they reached the edge of an underwater cavern, only faint traces of light filtered through. Every sound seemed swallowed by the vast, oppressive darkness.
The once-peaceful ocean now mirrored the same eerie, stifling atmosphere Wen Xin had experienced before. A haunting quietness filled the space, prompting an unexpected question in his mind.
Where had all the Sea God’s kin gone?
Just then, a whale’s cry shattered the silence, reverberating through Wen Xin’s very core.
An overwhelming dread gripped him, sending chills down his spine.
In half a second—or perhaps even less—an enormous figure appeared in the empty depths, rushing into view.
In that instant, Wen Xin’s sense of danger peaked, an acute and almost physical sensation stabbing at his heart.
His mind went blank. Without thinking, he instinctively shielded Lan Tuan behind him.
The water, once gentle and calm, now felt like a monstrous, distorted hand pressing down on Wen Xin’s entire body.
His limbs grew cold, his chest tight, as if he were on the brink of drowning. Instinctively, he clutched at his throat.
Even so, his other hand remained firmly in place, shielding the baby walrus.
Lan Tuan, huddled in his arms, finally reacted and let out a deep, furious growl.
“Roar!!”
The oppressive water pressure dispersed instantly.
Wen Xin gasped for air, the sudden relief from the suffocating tension allowing him a moment to breathe. But before he could recover, his gaze locked with the immense creature before him.
How could one describe the sheer size of the being?
Its crimson eyes glowed menacingly, and its gaping black maw revealed rows of teeth—each taller than Wen Xin himself.
In comparison, Wen Xin was like an insignificant grain of sand.
Adrenaline surged through him, his primal fear gripping his heart.
Holding his breath, Wen Xin’s fingers tightened. One second. Two seconds. Three.
His voice came out hoarse but steady: “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Excellency, Blue Whale.”
The pitch-black cavern finally echoed with a soft chuckle.
With the sound, the cave seemed to transform. Like a prison having its roof torn away, light pierced through layers of darkness to illuminate the area around Wen Xin.
The murk cleared, revealing the blue whale’s full form.
Its broad back and triangular tail fin were adorned with flowing, ethereal blue lines. The creature was vast yet graceful, exuding an air of beauty and mystique.
Its eyes, now devoid of hostility, gazed at Wen Xin with a profound gentleness.
Wen Xin seemed to understand and asked, “That earlier display… was it a test from you?”
The blue whale let out a deep call. As the sound reached Wen Xin’s ears, it seamlessly transformed into human speech.
“Yes, it was a test.”
Wen Xin mulled this over for a moment before cautiously probing, “A test to see if I can protect Lan Tuan?”
The blue whale began circling him slowly, its gaze studying him intently. Its voice, layered with subtle meaning, echoed around him.
“Not at all. Why would you think that someone of your current strength could possibly protect the future ruler of the ocean?”
Wen Xin rubbed his nose and smiled wryly. “Fair point. It’d make more sense for Lan Tuan to protect me.”
“You’re candid.”
“Well, at least I’m self-aware,” Wen Xin replied with a light cough.
Years of tough encounters had hardened his composure. Acknowledging his own shortcomings didn’t faze him in the slightest. He pressed on. “Then, what were you testing me for?”
The blue whale halted its slow swim and faced him directly.
“You’re aware, aren’t you? Not long ago, humans launched an attack on me while I was evolving into my complete form.”
The crimson hue returned to the whale’s eyes, the weight of its icy wrath carried in every word. “And so I’ve been considering… whether to teach them a lesson.”
“Tsunamis, sinking continents, melting glaciers, storm surges. Tell me, human, which of these do you favor?”
Wen Xin’s previously relaxed expression grew taut.
Whether the blue whale was serious or joking, its intent was clear in its gaze.
Wen Xin stared into those eyes—eyes so filled with hate that the malice seemed to coalesce into something tangible, sinking to the ocean floor.
He appeared to deliberate for a long time, yet it seemed he made his decision in an instant. His voice was firm and resolute.
“If you intend to do this, I will stop you.”
The blue whale laughed.
This time, the laugh carried a different tone, more akin to a human’s amused pity, as if observing a busy ant from above.
“With what strength, human?”
Wen Xin released Lan Tuan, giving the baby walrus a pat to send him aside. His hand dropped to his side, his voice calm and unwavering.
“With mine.”
Not a trace of hesitation could be heard in those two words.
The blue whale drifted closer, its ethereal blue skin nearly brushing against Wen Xin’s nose. Its voice rumbled with a chilling calm:
“Even knowing that, should I wish it, you would turn to blood mist in an instant, reduced to feed for the fish?”
“Even knowing that death is but a heartbeat away, that you wouldn’t have time to draw the dagger at your waist?”
“You would still choose to stop me at this moment?”
In that instant, Wen Xin felt the specter of death loom over him, its icy breath hovering at his throat.
Yet he calmly placed his hand on his dagger, gave it two deliberate strokes, and released it. His voice, light with humor, broke the tension: “But you won’t kill me right now.”
The blue whale appeared taken aback by Wen Xin’s confidence. “Why?”
“First, if you truly wanted to kill me, you could have done so earlier. Why waste time asking me these questions?” Wen Xin smiled. “Second, Ah Lü and San San are waiting for me on the shore. If I disappeared without returning, do you think they wouldn’t notice something amiss?”
He continued casually, “True, I’m just a human, weak by comparison. But fortunately, I have a decent reputation. By chance, I’m connected to the leaders of the Eastern Region, the ruler of City Rose in the West, and the pontiff of the Idealism Sect. I doubt you’d want to provoke a confrontation with such powerful opponents, would you?”
The blue whale fell silent.
It seemed momentarily reminded that the human before it was no ordinary human. The mutated beings Wen Xin had once taken in had now grown to become regional powerhouses.
It didn’t even need to think far. The oppressive S-class aura of Ah Lü alone was enough for the blue whale to sense from a distance. It had no doubt that the snake was now glaring daggers at the ocean’s surface, ready to retaliate against any threat.
Under such circumstances, the blue whale realized it couldn’t act rashly against Wen Xin.
Wen Xin pressed on. “And I also have an older brother who spoils me. If he learned that I died at your hands, he would have no hesitation in accepting Base One’s offers of cooperation to avenge me.”
Base One!
The blue whale’s aura faltered. A flash of crimson surged through its eyes. “What did you say?”
The oppressive pressure returned, spreading an icy, spine-chilling fear through Wen Xin’s body.
Yet, Wen Xin remained steadfast. Meeting the suffocating power head-on, he countered slowly and firmly, “See? You already know who your true enemy is.”
“If that’s the case, why not exact your revenge on the perpetrators rather than taking it out on innocent creatures who know nothing of what’s happened?”
The blue whale said nothing, beginning to swim in slow, deliberate circles.
Its massive shadow eclipsed the light filtering through the water, casting a shroud over Wen Xin’s diminutive form.
It scrutinized him, questioning, intimidating, and weighing its judgment.
Throughout the prolonged standoff, Wen Xin stood unwavering, meeting the blue whale’s blood-red gaze with his usual calm and composure.
Finally, the blue whale seemed to settle, its rage cooling. Or perhaps, in that moment, Wen Xin had finally passed its test.
“Resolute yet cautious. You are worthy.”
Wen Xin blinked, caught off guard.
Before he could respond, the previously quiet Lan Tuan suddenly waved his fin and headbutted the blue whale’s chin with a loud thud.
In theory, sound shouldn’t carry so distinctly underwater.
But the impact was undeniable, and Wen Xin watched, stunned, as the blue whale—at least a hundred times larger than Lan Tuan—was sent tumbling backward several dozen meters.
Having committed such an audacious act, Lan Tuan finally spoke, his voice slow and deliberate: “Teacher, you are not allowed to threaten Wen Xin.”
Wen Xin felt a shiver run down his spine. Quickly, he scooped Lan Tuan into his arms and whispered urgently, “It’s your teacher! What are you doing?”
To his surprise, the blue whale didn’t seem angry. After regaining its balance, it swam back with a faintly pleased expression. “Your strength has grown again. Not bad.”
Wen Xin: “…”
“What’s with that look?” The blue whale eyed him curiously. “Once a mutant enters its evolution stage, its power is constantly growing. Sparring helps release excess energy to prevent an uncontrollable outburst at the critical moment.”
It patted Lan Tuan’s head approvingly with its fin. “You haven’t even evolved into a complete form yet, and you already possess S-class strength. Excellent.”
Still sulking, Lan Tuan avoided the blue whale’s touch, turning to nuzzle into Wen Xin’s embrace instead.
Under the whale’s vaguely sorrowful gaze, Wen Xin could only awkwardly hold the baby walrus and ask, “Can I know why you put me through this test?”
“Because of a prophecy.”
Wen Xin frowned, his confusion evident. “A prophecy?”
The blue whale’s call echoed through the waves, carrying a somber weight.
“I once witnessed the future being altered, glimpsing secrets within the cracks of time. In that mysterious, ever-shifting future, I saw you—standing beside a colossal black dragon.”
The blue whale’s gaze bore into Wen Xin. “An uncontrollable dragon, reigning in its storm of lightning at your command. Together, you will strike down the conspirator’s schemes and cleanse the world of its filth.”
Wen Xin mulled over the words, attempting to make sense of them, but ultimately gave a helpless laugh. “That sounds… abstract. Is this ‘conspirator’ Base One?”
The blue whale’s tone grew more profound. “How much do you know about Base One?”
“Some of their activities,” Wen Xin admitted, “but not much in detail.”
The blue whale’s voice carried a cryptic undertone. “Then you should make an effort to learn more.”
Wen Xin thought about Base One’s record of so-called benevolent deeds. A flicker of doubt crossed his eyes before he spoke carefully. “You understand, of course, that I can’t turn against the largest survivor base on Earth simply because of a few words from you.”
This time, it was the markings on the missile that revealed Base One’s involvement, but that alone didn’t confirm the base’s participation in the operation to hunt down mutants.
After all, Base One had been manufacturing anti-mutant weapons and drugs for a long time, collaborating with numerous factions.
“If you can provide concrete evidence, maybe I can—”
The blue whale interrupted decisively. “There is none.”
Wen Xin raised his eyes. “…What?”
The blue whale continued, “Base One is always cunning. Whenever they act, they ensure their hands appear clean.”
Wen Xin’s brows furrowed tightly.
“I know you harbor doubts in your heart. In truth, so do I. The test I just gave you was my way of seeking confirmation.”
The blue whale said, “If you truly have the potential foretold in the prophecy, I am willing to abandon my plan to let the sea engulf the land and wait patiently a little longer.”
Hearing this, Wen Xin’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re saying?”
“As you surmise, I promise not to retaliate against humanity for the time being. But the hatred between me and Base One cannot be resolved, cannot be erased.”
At this, the blue whale seemed to grow weary and slowly closed its eyes.
“From today onward, the South Sea will be at your command, and the tsunamis will be stilled.”
Wen Xin didn’t feel any sense of relief or honor. His voice, hoarse like sandpaper, asked, “If I die along the way, or fail to fulfill the prophecy, what will you do?”
The blue whale let out a short laugh.
It didn’t answer. With a sweep of its fin, it turned and began swimming toward the deep sea.
Wen Xin quickly tried to follow, but a surge of water swept him up and carried him back to the surface.
Bright sunlight shone down from a clear, cerulean sky. The ocean breeze was gentle and calming.
Cradling Lan Tuan in his arms, Wen Xin emerged abruptly from the oppressive depths of the sea. A fleeting daze crossed his face as he struggled to adjust to the sudden shift.
From below came a deep, resonant whale call.
“After this, I will enter a deep slumber to gather strength. Tell those villagers to stay away from me; they no longer need to offer sacrifices.”
“As compensation, I’ll tell you where to find the two mutants you’re looking for. One is at the Aurora Armory in the South Sea. The other is in the Dragon’s Remains Rift.”
he unknowingly echoed xiao hei…uuuu
Yes! Yes! YESSSSSS!