HLM -Chapter 1335 Get in Here, Now!

By five in the morning, Father Bo got up and stepped out. Seeing Wang Bo sitting in the living room, he was startled. “Who’s there?”

“Your son,” Wang Bo said wearily.

Father Bo asked, “Why are you up so early?”

Wang Bo replied helplessly, “I haven’t gotten any sleep yet, Dad.”

“What? What happened?” Father Bo asked in surprise. “You don’t even like sleeping in your own bed—so why didn’t you sleep?”

Wang Bo pointed outside at the seagulls slowly flying back and recounted the events of the night. Sure enough, Father Bo, being his real dad, looked at his son’s exhausted face with a mix of worry and sympathy.

After understanding the situation, he said, “Go back to sleep. There are still several hours until sunrise. Leave this to me—I’ll go drive them away.”

Wang Bo said, “Take Zhuang Ding and Little Wang with you. If there’s any danger, let them handle it.”

Father Bo replied, “They’ve been following you all night. Let them go back and get some sleep too.”

Mentioning this, Wang Bo’s mouth trembled with anger: “Sleep? They’re not tired at all! They’ve only gone out with me a couple of times. They’re lying belly-up in the living room, and Little Wang’s even snoring!”

The little ones looked innocently at the two of them. The Fat Cat brothers were snuggled together asleep; Father Bo’s appearance only made them open their eyes briefly…

After sleeping until sunrise, Wang Bo rubbed his eyes and got up. Eva brought breakfast to his bedside, speaking gently: “Eat something first, then get some more sleep.”

Wang Bo waved his hand. “I’m not sleepy. Today, we’ll all go into town.”

Eva asked, “Are you sure you don’t need to sleep a bit more? Dad said you didn’t sleep at all last night while chasing away the seagulls. But are seagulls really that stubborn? Were they here all night?”

Wang Bo sighed helplessly. “Yeah, I don’t get it either. What’s wrong with these seagulls? They kept me up all night!”

He chewed on smoked fish vigorously, as if gnawing on those annoying seagulls.

Daytime in Iceland is precious. After finishing breakfast, Wang Bo quickly went to modify the pickup truck.

Iceland has neither trains nor subways, so to get from one place to another, you can either walk, cycle, drive yourself, take a taxi, or use public buses.

Naturally, they were planning a self-driving tour. But with the little ones along, they couldn’t just drive out normally. Wang Bo had to install a support frame and tarp over the truck bed—otherwise, if Little Wang made an appearance, they’d be swarmed by onlookers.

He had already discussed this with Morrison, so the pickup truck had fixed mounting points for the frame. All that was needed was to insert the supports and cover it with a tarp.

Once ready, Wang Bo waved: “Come on, Zhuang Ding, Little Wang, Da Pang, Er Pang—get in.”

Little Wang looked weakly at him, swishing its large tail, eyes full of pitiful reluctance.

Zhuang Ding was even worse, pretending not to hear, twisting his head left and right as if searching for something.

The Fat Cat brothers went first, climbing into the passenger seat, eyes wide, huddled together, clearly ready to resist.

“Don’t make me say it twice. Get in!” Wang Bo frowned.

Little Wang gave in. Timid as he was, seeing Wang Bo angry, he leapt into the tall truck bed with the agility of a cat.

Zhuang Ding and the Fat Cat brothers were still resisting. Eva went up, grabbed their tails, and gave each a slap on the rear. After being scolded, they finally submitted, sulking as they climbed in.

“Don’t stick your heads out, or I won’t bring you out next time,” Wang Bo warned.

Little Wang obediently sat down, while Zhuang Ding already had his head peeking out—they didn’t like dark, enclosed spaces.

With the whole family inside, the large pickup truck was packed full.

Wang Bo started the vehicle and drove down to the foot of the mountain, where he saw a Land Rover seemingly broken down, with a blonde man fussing around it.

Wang Bo got out to help and asked, “What’s wrong with your car?”

The man smiled wryly. “Seems like a problem with the cylinder head. Damn it—I might have to take it to a repair shop. Do you know the Icelandic tow hotline?”

Wang Bo replied, “Sorry, I don’t. I’m a tourist too. How about this—I’ll tow your car with my pickup.”

The blonde man’s face lit up. “That’s fantastic! Where do you live? I’m Paul McCauley, renting a small villa behind the mountain. It’s quite comfortable.”

Wang Bo pointed to a spot on the mountainside. “Over there. You can see a yellow wooden house—that’s where I’m staying. By the way, you live comfortably? No seagulls bothering you at night?”

McCauley laughed. “No way. You had seagulls all over your place all night?”

“Yes, I don’t even know why. Shit, there are too many seagulls, and they won’t leave no matter what!”

“It’s simple,” McCauley explained. “The seagulls here have never been hunted by humans. They aren’t afraid of us and are willing to hang around because humans provide safety and food.”

Wang Bo frowned. “Willing to stay with humans? Impossible! Whenever I get close, they fly away, and only return when I leave.”

McCauley nodded. “Of course. Seagulls aren’t like ducks or swans—they’re wilder and more cautious. When you see a flock resting around your house, they’re actually taking turns keeping watch, not letting you get close.”

After all that explanation, Wang Bo asked, “Then why don’t you have seagulls?”

McCauley smiled. “Simple. At night, when I go to sleep, I turn off all the lights. Seagulls are smart—they know lights mean humans, and they like lit areas at night.”

“Icelanders have trained them this way. Bright spots at night usually mean parties, where people feed the seagulls. During this season, nights are long and days are short, so seagulls have a hard time finding food and become dependent on human feeding.”

“If your house has no lights, they won’t approach. You can also feed them—once they’re full, they’ll leave.”

Wang Bo said, “Thanks! Wow, you just solved a huge problem for me.”

McCauley laughed. “It’s nothing. There’s plenty of info online, and other ways to deal with seagulls, like bird repellers from supermarkets. You should have checked online back then.”

Wang Bo could only blame his bad luck. Of course he had tried to find solutions online, but the web wouldn’t load—can you blame him?

Using his phone’s GPS, Wang Bo located a repair shop and drove the Land Rover there, now entering the city center.

McCauley, learning Wang Bo had just arrived in Reykjavik, gave him a printed list of tourist hotspots he had found online before parting ways.