Chapter 66: The Operation Begins
When the orca pod’s matriarch turned around, the scars and half-healed wounds across her body were impossible to miss.
It wasn’t just her. Most of the adult orcas carried multiple injuries—some looked like they came from fights with other orcas, but others were clearly inflicted by humans.
In fact, most of the wounds were human-made.
Orcas have almost no natural predators. “Almost” exists only because humans exist—humans are a predator to every living thing.
Including themselves. Humans are their own worst enemy.
Lin Jiangye pressed his lips together. Then, without hesitation, he jumped off the boat into the sea and swam toward the pod.
The coast guards had learned to keep their composure. From the orcas’ attitude, they didn’t seem hostile toward Lin Jiangye. And if they truly wanted to attack, it wouldn’t matter whether the humans were on the boat or in the water.
All the coast guards could do was wait and watch.
Lin Jiangye reached the matriarch. The older orca seemed to understand what he wanted and turned slightly, exposing a clearer view of her wounds.
“You need our help,” her meaning came through, steady and calm. “We also need help from humans.”
Her own injuries weren’t the worst, but several of her kin had wounds that refused to heal. If things kept going this way, they might not hold on much longer.
Lin Jiangye examined her injuries up close, then looked at the other wounded orcas. “Did you fight another pod first,” he asked, “and then get hurt by humans afterward?”
The matriarch hesitated—surprised that he’d guessed correctly—then answered anyway.
“Yes. We lost a territory fight to another group,” her tone said. “And on the way out, we ran into humans hunting…”
Her voice grew heavier.
“To escape them, we lost several of our own.”
Lin Jiangye’s first reaction was blunt: “And you still dared to bring the rest of your family near humans?”
After being hunted, you still came close—weren’t you afraid these humans might be the same kind?
His gaze flicked behind her and landed on the young orca from yesterday—the lively one that had been bouncing with excitement.
The matriarch suddenly nudged him.
She didn’t mean to, but she was enormous. Even that “light” contact sent Lin Jiangye sliding sideways.
Luckily, another orca behind him steadied him, or he would’ve been shoved under the water again.
Then came her dry, teasing remark:
“Oops. Sorry. I didn’t realize you were so fragile.”
Lin Jiangye went silent.
Fragile?
That word had never been used on him before. It sounded… wrong.
He looked up. The matriarch was clearly amused—she’d said it on purpose.
Still, his question wasn’t easy to answer. If she weren’t cornered by necessity, she wouldn’t have asked humans for help at all.
Because she couldn’t know whether the humans she was approaching were different from the ones who hunted her.
If they were the same, then she’d be leading her entire family straight into a trap. One mistake, and they’d be wiped out.
Lin Jiangye cleared his throat, embarrassed. “Right. Sorry.”
Then he softened. “Let me take you somewhere you can be treated. We don’t need your whole family to join the operation. First we’ll treat the ones who are in bad shape. When this is over, the rest can be treated too.”
He added gently, “During that time, humans will provide food. You just rest.”
He sighed and hugged the matriarch’s head—more a gesture of reassurance than anything.
As for whether the local unit had enough budget to feed a whole pod… Lin Jiangye wasn’t even thinking about it. His first instinct was to pay out of pocket.
The moment Lin Xia heard that, he exploded. “What do you mean you pay? You came all the way to help us—how can we let you do the work and pay the bill?”
If word got out that they’d brought a special consultant here and made him bleed effort and money, they’d be mocked into the ground.
Lin Jiangye’s mouth twitched. Since they insisted they could cover it, he dropped the subject.
He’d already got a whole zoo in the works—he couldn’t spend like before anyway.
Having “kids” changes your relationship with money fast.
With that settled, Lin Xia immediately arranged a clean, safe stretch of water for the pod to recover. Vets and supplies were rushed over. The worst-injured orcas were treated first—pulled close enough to apply medication and tend wounds properly.
Seeing those massive black-and-white bodies waiting quietly to be cared for softened a lot of hearts—vets and coast guards alike.
And after learning that most of the injuries were caused by humans, guilt flashed across many faces.
Lin Xia spoke up, not to evade responsibility, but to clarify. “It probably wasn’t anyone in our waters.”
In China, even if someone targeted dolphins or similar marine life, they wouldn’t dare stage an operation this large—especially not against orcas, which travel in groups and can be extremely dangerous when provoked. To attack them, you’d need many boats working together.
And in truth, it hadn’t happened in domestic waters.
“The matriarch said they traveled down from the Arctic,” Lin Xia explained. “They were attacked somewhere along the route—likely out in the Pacific.”
Out there, it was hard to say who did it.
Lin Xia thought for a moment, then called the matriarch over and pulled Lin Jiangye in to translate.
“Tell her: after treatment, your pod should head toward Antarctic waters. For the next month or two, avoid the northern Pacific.”
Lin Jiangye and the matriarch both looked confused.
Lin Xia’s expression darkened. “There are foreign teams operating in that region. Every year they capture orcas.”
Not to eat them—those orcas were sold to aquariums overseas.
And the operations lasted one to two months at a time.
Lin Xia was worried that if this pod healed and immediately tried to go back, they’d run straight into those hunters again.
Lin Jiangye understood at once. “So either you go south for now,” he told the matriarch, “or you stay here a while and leave later.”
The matriarch hadn’t expected that news. She’d been thinking, once healed, they’d return—only to realize it wasn’t that simple.
Her reply was quiet but firm: “Understood.”
She didn’t sound like someone who would abandon revenge forever. She sounded like someone who would wait until the time was right.
Then she asked, practical as ever:
“How many of my kin do you need?”
The orca issue was addressed. Now came the human side.
Lin Jiangye looked to Lin Xia. “The seabirds are willing. The orcas are willing. What’s the plan?”
Lin Xia exhaled. “From what we know, almost twenty boats will move. Hundreds of victims will be taken aboard. Some will be operated on. Some will be trafficked. Once their ‘doctors’ finish, evidence disappears.”
The biggest unknown was location.
Those ships didn’t sit still. They shifted positions regularly to avoid detection.
Lin Jiangye shook his head. “Leave that part to me.”
With seabirds, unless the boats vanished into thin air, they couldn’t escape being watched.
Lin Xia’s grin almost split his face.
The matriarch asked another sharp question, clearly understanding more than Lin Xia expected:
“Where do you need us to drive them?”
She understood that humans had “territories,” and that forcing criminals into the right waters mattered.
Lin Xia was honestly impressed. He’d been worrying about how to explain jurisdiction; she’d arrived at the concept herself.
“Not yet,” Lin Xia said carefully. “We need to confirm their position first. Then we’ll decide how to close in.”
He wanted the people on those boats alive. That meant they couldn’t push too hard too early.
If the criminals felt cornered, they might choose to kill hostages and sink evidence.
Then Lin Jiangye proposed something that made both Lin Xia and the matriarch freeze.
“Can the orcas carry us in?”
“What?”
Lin Jiangye’s reasoning was immediate. “We have people onboard, yes. But four undercover agents can’t fight guards from twenty boats, and they’ll be confined like everyone else. Without outside help, it’s hard for them to move.”
Lin Xia nodded. That part was true.
“So we can place a few people on orca backs, have them approach underwater. Which boats we can get near and which we can’t—those decisions can be made in real time.”
Then Lin Jiangye held out his hand. “Give me a few micro cameras. I’ll attach them to birds.”
At that moment, Qi Ming and Chang Geng piped up.
“Leave it to us.”
Qi Ming even rubbed against Lin Jiangye, trying to sound sweet and convincing: “We’re the fastest. The other birds aren’t familiar with us yet.”
Lin Jiangye stared at him, amused and exasperated at the same time. It was such an obvious attempt to push the seabirds aside.
“Actually,” Lin Jiangye said, “I was planning to use frigatebirds.”
Frigatebirds could reach astonishing speeds—faster than a gyrfalcon.
Qi Ming blinked blankly; he didn’t know seabirds well.
Lin Jiangye described them: “The big ones with the huge throat pouch, about the same size as Chang Geng.”
Qi Ming’s eyes lit up as he remembered.
Then, stubbornly, he insisted: “I still want to help.”
Lin Jiangye chuckled. “You will. This includes you too.”
He noticed Chang Geng’s expression dim and immediately added, “And I need you for something else.”
Chang Geng brightened instantly.
Lin Xia had to fight not to laugh. Watching Lin Jiangye keep every “kid” equally included was strangely familiar.
Lin Xia handed over several micro cameras. They would’ve prepared them anyway.
With clear footage, the criminals couldn’t talk their way out of it—no matter how they tried to blend in.
After coordinating, Lin Jiangye returned to the house and spoke to the frigatebirds he’d chosen as camera carriers.
“Listen carefully. Your safety comes first. If you’re spotted, leave. If it’s too risky, don’t film—come back.”
The birds selected were the strongest in their group, notorious troublemakers even among seabirds.
Lin Jiangye could practically see the moment they considered attacking humans if discovered.
Their silence confirmed it.
He pointed at them. “You heard me. If anyone refuses to retreat and gets caught, you can forget about biscuits.”
Instant outrage.
“Hey! We never said we wouldn’t obey! Stop bullying us with biscuits!”
Lin Jiangye just laughed—dryly. “There will be plenty of birds around. If anyone reports you didn’t retreat when you should have…”
That “if” was enough. The frigatebirds puffed up, but they couldn’t resist the promise of food for a month afterward.
“Fine. Understood.”
Only then did Lin Jiangye pat their heads. “Humans will worry. If you get hurt, humans will feel guilty. A truly capable bird doesn’t put itself in danger, right?”
Carrot and stick. It worked.
Soon, the day arrived.
At first light, Lin Jiangye set off with the birds. The undercover agent had sent one final message before boarding—then went silent.
If this operation failed, the four undercover agents would die in international waters.
Nobody wanted that.
That silence was a blade hanging over everyone’s head.
The message included distinctive features of the ships—but no precise location.
On Lin Jiangye’s boat, coast guards relayed information from Lin Xia: “They’ll depart from here. If they’re going to the high seas, this route is the fastest.”
Lin Jiangye studied the map. The best interception point would’ve been the outlet—right as they left.
But if they blocked that outlet, the criminals could simply reverse and slip into another country’s waters.
So they had to intercept on the high seas.
Lin Jiangye released the birds toward the neighboring waters.
“They won’t dare go too far from their own side right after departure,” he said. “That makes tracking easier.”
His own four birds joined the flight—Chang Geng, Qi Ming, Tourmaline, and Opal—now less frightened of the ocean after several days of exposure.
They blended into seabird formations so smoothly that, at a glance, no one would notice an eagle, a falcon, and two corvids mixed into the flock.
The growing cacophony drew attention from birds on nearby islands. And then a small voice volunteered:
“I know where the bad humans are!”
Tourmaline immediately rushed over. “How do you know so fast? Where are they?”
The little storm-petrel puffed out his chest proudly. “My whole family is stationed at their only passageway.”
The storm-petrels knew the exact route the boats had to pass through. Some of their birds had already landed on the boats, using calls to relay information to other birds.
In other words, they’d been waiting there from the start.
Tourmaline was shocked—and, frankly, jealous. Home-field advantage was real.
Tourmaline returned to Lin Jiangye and relayed the report, still fuming.
Lin Jiangye’s eyes lit up. “So fast. Those storm-petrels are amazing.”
Once the location was confirmed, Lin Jiangye relayed it to the coast guards. Then he put on his diving suit and jumped into the water—where an orca was waiting.
The orca that caught him was the matriarch herself.
Her long, resonant call rallied the pod. Each orca collected its assigned human teammate, then followed the matriarch as they surged forward through the deep.
With orcas transporting them underwater, it felt like the humans had grown wings.
At the same time, Qi Ming and the frigatebirds followed the storm-petrels’ signals and began closing in on the target boats.
Even without landing, the ships looked wrong—too coordinated, too guarded, too unlike ordinary fishing boats.
The operation had begun.
The stench of death up on deck was so thick it was almost tangible—mixed with waves of rot that turned the stomach.
The men guarding the vessel didn’t find it strange when birds landed. Out on the high seas, seabirds often dropped onto ships to rest.
And besides…
“Does it want meat?” One of the guards—a man all knotted muscle—strode over with a gun in hand. There were dark bloodstains spattered across his body. Coupled with the screams from earlier, everyone could easily guess what he’d been doing.
With a casual flick, he tossed a dripping chunk of raw meat onto the deck. If anyone looked closely, they’d notice coarse hairs still clinging to it—ripped off alive, brute force, no clean cut.
The storm-petrels hopped away in open disgust. They’d tasted something far better now; they weren’t about to peck at this filthy, stinking scrap with barely any flesh on it.
Their reaction made the guards burst into laughter.
But inside the cages below deck, the “piglets” flinched hard at that laughter—shuddering as if the sound itself could tear skin.
They didn’t know exactly what would happen to them after being herded onto the ship. But they knew one thing: they were going to die.
Just a moment earlier, one guard had hauled out a kid who couldn’t have been grown—trying to force himself on him. The child fought back.
And then… the guard beat him to death.
No—more precisely, when the boy was dragged away, he was still clinging to one last breath. The man who came to “collect” him wore a mask and gloves. He took one look at the blood-soaked child and clicked his tongue in disgust.
No one knew where the boy was taken.
But everyone could feel it in their bones: it wasn’t for treatment.
In the same compartment, a man locked in another cage clenched his fists until his knuckles went pale. He knew what awaited that child. If he wasn’t fully dead yet, they’d hurry—cut out the organs while they were still viable.
Young. Healthy. Valuable.
That was why, even while beating him half to death, the guard had aimed for the head and avoided the torso.
Damage the organs, and the guard himself could become the next “piglet.”
The man wanted to help.
He couldn’t.
The undercover officer shut his eyes, forcing down the rage and helplessness. This was the price of stepping into the trap on purpose: you endured everything and waited for your people to arrive.
And if they didn’t…
Everyone here was dead.
After the guards finished laughing, they went back to patrolling.
They didn’t spot any danger.
But they did notice something else—more and more birds settling onto the ship.
Watching the growing flock of seabirds, one guard suddenly brought up something odd. “Hey… have you heard? They say Huaxia has a man who can understand animals.”
The moment he said it, the others rolled their eyes. “You believe that? It’s such an obvious scam.”
These days, who on earth could “understand animal language”? If you wanted to con people, at least claim you’re a psychic.
The guard rubbed his gun awkwardly. He hadn’t believed it at first either.
But the videos… they’d looked too real.
And now, with more and more seabirds appearing, a thread of dread crept up his spine.
Were these birds really here by chance?
Or had someone… called them in?
