HLM – Chapter 954 I’ve Got a Gun

The two fishing boats were clearly acting with intent, one ahead of the other, perfectly blocking Wang Bo’s small boat. And a small boat can’t drift freely at sea—so now they were trapped.

The big men on board obviously knew this, wearing expressions of complete confidence as a group of them shouted:

“Damn it, we drove the school of fish onto this reef, and now you’re screwing it all up!”

“Not bad! These bastards managed to catch four fish! Look at these pencil-lipped idiots—they caught four fish, when there must have been at least a hundred in the school!”

“Damn it, you’re going to pay for our losses. Watch and learn!”

The bald big man who had been speaking earlier said: “Xiao Si, go get those fish back for me!”

The metal-hulled fishing boat was much taller than the small boat, its sides rising two to three meters higher. A young man climbed down, carrying a rope on his shoulder, and swung it toward the small boat. “Tie the fish up!”

Wang Bo flicked his hand, and his harpoon flew out like a lightning strike. Swish!—it lodged firmly at the bow, pinning the rope in place.

With the harpoon ready, he shouted: “Get the hell out of here! Move as far as you can within a minute—don’t make me unhappy!”

Then he nodded toward Eva, signaling her to take her parents and Dale into the boat’s cabin.

Seeing Eva, the group of men quieted down a bit. Someone muttered, “Shit… foreigners too?”

The bald man sneered: “What the hell are you scared of! It’s them who messed up the school we spent so much effort driving together. And so what if they’re foreigners? In Russia, foreign women are cheap as hell!”

“Damn!” Eva was no lady—she raised her middle finger at the man and shouted, “Your mother and sister are cheap too!”

An older man in his fifties came out from the back of the boat. He glared at Wang Bo viciously: “Young man, don’t say we’re bullying anyone. We spent a whole week tracking down this school, and two days using underwater sonar to drive them…”

“Cut the crap!” Wang Bo interrupted. “Get lost—don’t you understand human speech?”

By now, he realized his previous assumption was wrong. These people weren’t picking a fight out of jealousy over the tuna.

This school of fish might really have something to do with them. Wang Bo had noticed earlier while fishing that the fish were exhausted, far weaker than he expected. He suspected they had been driven or frightened beforehand, which drained their energy.

In fishing, there’s an understanding that fish are living creatures and constantly move. So stealing someone’s catch is dishonorable. Fishermen have rules: when one boat fishes in a certain area, others stay away.

But these rules only apply in general circumstances. Tuna schools are different—no one can guarantee they’ll find a school and catch it.

And now Wang Bo was sure that the people on these two boats had likely found this school of tuna. Whether they had driven it here remained uncertain. Even if they had, it would only be for a segment of the route. Bluefin tuna can swim over 100 km/h in water—no metal fishing boat could keep up.

Moreover, these men were insulting him—conflict was inevitable.

The old man, interrupted, laughed scornfully: “Young man, don’t be so hot-tempered. When I was young, one of my buddies was just as reckless as you…”

“Old man, don’t act high and mighty with your age. I know an old guy like you who loved showing off—his grave’s grass is already two meters tall!” Zhong Dabao interrupted sharply.

The old man, likely a figure among fishermen, was getting frustrated being interrupted repeatedly and insulted in the process.

“Ramming boats! Let’s see whose words are tougher—yours or the hull of my boat!” the old man growled.

Most fishermen are hot-headed—sea conflicts can erupt at the slightest provocation. Hearing the order, some immediately moved to start the boat. Zhong Dabao’s face changed, shouting: “Damn it, you dare!”

Wang Bo wasn’t worried. He pulled a pistol from his pocket, raised it toward the sky, and fired: Bang! Bang!

The sharp, clear shots echoed across the open sea. Two bright brass casings fell onto the boat with clatter-clatter.

Wang Bo, expressionless, aimed the gun at the fishing boat’s cockpit: “Get lost! Or take a bullet!”

The fishermen froze. No matter how hot-headed, they were civilians, not street thugs. At most, they’d use harpoons—not knives, and certainly not guns.

The gunshots caused immediate chaos:

“Shit! He’s got a gun! That’s a real gun!”

“Don’t push me! Back off, damn, that’s a real gun!”

“Who is this? Call the police, call the police!”

Wang Bo shouted at the bald man: “Move! Or no one leaves alive—you’ll be fish food!”

The old man panicked but tried to act calm: “Everyone, don’t worry. It’s a fake gun, a replica. Even if it were real, would he dare shoot us?”

Wang Bo turned the gun on him, sneering: “What did you just say?”

The old man trembled, stepping back, shouting in panic: “Call the police! Call the police! Arrest them! They must have a record!”

Zhong Dabao was also shocked and quickly grabbed Wang Bo: “How do you still have a gun?”

Wang Bo said: “I am a police officer in New Zealand. Of course I have a gun.”

“What if they report it?”

Wang Bo holstered the gun: “First, the police have to believe them and be able to find a gun.”

Under the threat of the pistol, the two fishing boats quickly departed. Wang Bo’s parents came out, anxious: “What happened? Why did you bring a gun?”

Wang Bo shrugged: “Habit, no big deal.”

He tossed the gun into the sea with a plop. The water here was deep—finding a gun at the bottom would be nearly impossible.

Of course, the gun he threw wasn’t a police weapon but a replica from a training range.

The fishermen really did call the police. As Wang Bo’s boat returned, a police speedboat approached.

Once on board, they found nothing. Wang Bo feigned confusion: “What’s going on?”

The lead officer saluted politely: “We received a call reporting you had a firearm.”

Wang Bo smiled: “Impossible. Must be a false report. We did have a conflict with two boats at sea—they tried to steal our catch, so we defended ourselves with harpoons. Probably they’re framing us in revenge.”

Luckily, none of the fishermen had taken photos or had solid evidence. But Eva’s camera had recorded video.

They copied the footage for the police. The lead officer said: “We’ll investigate this matter seriously. Please cooperate with us.”

Wang Bo nodded: “Of course, absolutely!”