HDRDTH -Chapter 25 Star of Justice — There Aren’t Many Titles Left for Master Yu!

“Rat-tat-tat—!”

A burst of rapid gunfire, like beans exploding in a wok, instantly tore apart the once peaceful sea breeze of the Maldives.

Several plumes of water erupted beside the hull of the “Salted Fish No. 2,” sending half-meter-high columns spraying into the air.

One stray bullet grazed past Wang Dafu’s shiny, oil-slick forehead with a sharp ping, punching a smoking hole through one of the blue plastic fish buckets behind him.

The loaches inside were terrified and frantically wriggled out through the bullet hole, flopping slimily all over the deck.

“Murder! They’re using real guns! REAL GUNS!!”

Wang Dafu’s legs went limp, and his whole body collapsed onto the deck like a giant blob of jelly. He clutched the metal canister filled with white powder tightly in both arms, snot and tears smeared all over his face.

“Dad! We’re doomed! They’re trying to silence us! I’m too young to die! I haven’t even stayed on the private island I just bought yet!”

Su Wanyi’s face was pale with fear, but maternal instinct drove her to shield Su Qian beneath her body immediately. Trembling violently, she curled up in the blind spot beneath the control console.

“Shut up! You’re so damn noisy!”

Yu Xian sat on the rusty tractor seat, one hand on the steering wheel while the other still tried desperately to untangle his hopelessly snarled fishing line.

There was no fear on his face.

Only the extreme irritation of a man whose philosophical contemplation of “Why did I get skunked again?” had been violently interrupted.

His brain was running at full speed, analyzing the dead-end situation before him.

Run?

The enemy had a professional speedboat. Even if this “sea tractor” used nitrous boost, it still couldn’t outrun them.

Surrender?

Judging from how casually they opened fire, surrendering would just mean becoming shark food.

Wait for Interpol?

By the time those guys slowly approached, he’d already be riddled with bullets!

“Damn it. Wolves ahead, tigers behind. Not even a single path to survival.”

Yu Xian spat out the cigarette butt in his mouth, his expression turning frighteningly grim.

Ping!

Another bullet grazed past his ear and slammed heavily into the reel seat of the “Poseidon’s Trident,” spraying sparks everywhere!

Yu Xian’s pupils instantly shrank to needlepoints.

Shoot at me?

Fine.

Shoot at my wife and kid?

Not fine.

But shooting at the tool I use to make a living—especially after I’d been skunked fishing the entire damn day—and destroying my one remaining emotional support?

That was absolutely unforgivable!

“All I wanted was to fish in peace, and you people just had to force me into causing trouble, huh?!”

The lazy salted-fish aura vanished instantly.

What remained was the monstrous savagery of someone whose reverse scale had been touched.

The black speedboat was full of desperate criminals, completely ignoring the distant wail of approaching police sirens.

At the bow, a burly man with a skull tattoo grinned viciously as he aimed the machine gun directly at the cabin of the “Salted Fish No. 2.”

Less than two hundred meters away.

Less than ten seconds until death.

“Along! Kick over that bucket of rotten pig liver!”

Yu Xian suddenly roared.

The already terrified Along froze for a moment, but instinctively obeyed and kicked the bucket over. The dark-red bloodwater mixed with rotting pig liver—stinking like a biochemical weapon—instantly splashed across the deck and over the metal canister, turning everything slippery and foul-smelling.

“Hold tight!”

Before everyone’s horrified eyes, Yu Xian planted both feet against the welded steel deck and kicked off violently. His hands flew across the crude modified control panel like a pianist hammering keys.

The “Salted Fish No. 2,” the wrecked boat mocked across all the Maldives as the “sea tractor,” finally revealed its fangs.

“ROOOAR—!!!”

The diesel engine at the stern, heavily modified by Yu Xian and fitted with a nitrous booster, let out a thunderous howl like some ancient beast awakening.

Black smoke billowed into the sky!

The ship suddenly performed a completely unscientific ninety-degree drifting sideswipe that looked as though it might tear the hull apart!

“You wanna silence witnesses? Did you ask permission from the rod in my hands first?!”

Yu Xian locked the drag on the “Poseidon’s Trident” completely tight. The ultra-high-strength Kevlar fishing line emitted strained creaking sounds, as if it might snap at any second!

As the ship whipped around violently, the multi-ton metal canister—previously half-floating in the sea—was yanked out of the water by terrifying centrifugal force and transformed into a giant meteor hammer sweeping across the ocean!

Inertia! Centrifugal force!

This was the violent beauty of physics unleashed by the resentment of a fisherman who’d been skunked across two lifetimes!

The drug traffickers aboard the black speedboat had clearly never seen a lunatic like this before.

From their perspective, the broken fishing boat wasn’t trying to escape at all. Instead, it spun around like a dying beast—

—and then a gigantic rust-covered metal monstrosity filled with pipes and valves came screaming across the sea surface toward them!

“Holy sh—”

The machine gunner didn’t even manage to finish his last syllable.

“DUAAANG—!!!”

A metallic impact so violent it felt capable of shattering souls echoed across the heavens!

The metal canister—packed with a full ton of high-purity white powder—became a giant warhammer swung by a titan, smashing directly into the side of the black speedboat!

It was like using a solid iron wrecking ball to smash a soda can.

There was no suspense whatsoever.

Under the overwhelming kinetic impact, the expensive high-speed boat instantly disintegrated!

Fragments flew everywhere. Flames exploded into the air!

The traffickers aboard didn’t even have time to scream before being swatted into the ocean like dumplings tossed into boiling water.

The massive recoil force caused the “Salted Fish No. 2” to tilt violently, nearly capsizing.

But the ugly tractor seat welded firmly in the middle of the deck—once mocked by everyone—now acted like the legendary stabilizing pillar of the sea.

Yu Xian sat firmly atop it, relying on that hideous but practical center-of-gravity design to forcibly stabilize the ship.

“Along! Get the landing net!”

Looking at the chaotic sea surface, Yu Xian subconsciously shouted the command.

Only after yelling did he realize—

Oh.

The drug traffickers’ boat had exploded.

This wasn’t a massive fishing haul.

At this moment, the three Interpol patrol boats in the distance finally arrived.

Captain Smith, leading the team, held up his binoculars with his jaw hanging so wide it could fit an entire fist inside.

He had completely forgotten to issue the arrest order.

What exactly had he just witnessed?

A broken-down fishing boat, using a single fishing rod to drag along some unknown metal container, had employed a near-suicidal tactic to literally… smash an armed speedboat to pieces?!

What the hell kind of fishing was this?!

This was Poseidon himself personally enforcing the law!

Yu Xian’s face was dark as he tremblingly pulled a lighter from his pocket. It took him three tries before he finally lit the cigarette in his mouth.

He was irritated.

Extremely irritated.

What should have been a perfect combo of the “Salted Fish Drift” followed by a “Meteor Hammer Strike” had come at a devastating price.

The reel seat of his “Poseidon’s Trident” had been cracked by a bullet, and the expensive Kevlar fishing line, after bearing a weight it was never meant to endure, had completely exploded into a tangled mess.

This wasn’t just a snapped line.

This was a shattered mentality.

“The vessel ahead! Shut off your engine immediately! Hands on your head! We are Interpol!”

Captain Smith’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker.

Yu Xian sighed, flicked the cigarette butt into the sea, then honestly raised both hands into the air—while still tightly gripping the ruined fishing rod.

Ten minutes later.

Captain Smith boarded the deck. He looked at the white powder scattered everywhere and the enormous metal canister, then walked to the stern and knocked on the modified engine that was still radiating intense heat.

His expression grew increasingly grave.

Finally, his gaze settled on the Eastern man still sitting on the tractor seat with a completely dead-inside expression.

“Name?” Smith asked cautiously.

“Yu Xian. ‘Yu’ as in surplus, ‘Xian’ as in living off idle meals,” Yu Xian replied irritably.

“Occupation?”

“Fisherman. The kind that catches everything except fish… a professional skunk.”

Smith’s eyelid twitched.

He pointed at the canister.

“You call this being skunked? This shipment was the largest batch of cargo lost by ‘Ghost’ in the Atlantic! Enough to cripple Europe! And you used it… to wipe out Ghost’s elite escort squad in one strike.”

“If this counts as being skunked, then what are we Interpol officers? Useless donut-eating trash?”

Yu Xian covered his face painfully and whimpered:

“For us fishermen, if we don’t catch fish, it’s a skunk. Period.”

Smith was instantly filled with respect.

He understood now!

The depression this man displayed was merely a disguise. In reality, he was flawless and airtight!

The panic, the untangling of the fishing line—it had all been an act!

This ship, this fishing rod, this tactic—

They were clearly a meticulously calculated killing move!

“I understand.”

Smith lowered his voice and spoke in a tone of mutual understanding.

“Codename ‘Salted Fish,’ right? Ace agent of some mysterious Eastern organization? Disguised as a fisherman while carrying out a top-secret cleanup operation on international waters?”

Yu Xian: …

“No, I really am just—”

“Shhh!”

Smith raised a finger to silence him, wearing an expression that said Relax, my lips are sealed.

“I know the rules. In the public report, I’ll write that ‘enthusiastic civilian Mr. Yu assisted police in cracking a major international criminal case.’”

As he spoke, Smith tightly grabbed Yu Xian’s hand—the one reeking of engine oil and fish slime—and shook it emotionally, tears practically streaming from his eyes.

“Thank you! Mr. Yu! The ten-million-dollar bounty on the wanted list will be paid in full! In addition, Interpol has decided to award you the ‘Star of Justice’ medal!”

Nearby, Wang Dafu—whose soul had only just returned to his body—heard the words “ten million dollars,” and his eyes instantly bulged out.

He scrambled over excitedly and shouted:

“That’s right! My dad—uh, Mr. Yu—is the God of Fishing! No crime can escape his hook!”

Yu Xian stared hopelessly at the sky and blew out a ring of smoke.

Ten million dollars.

Star of Justice.

International hero.

But he only wanted to ask one thing:

Where were his fish?

Where was his trophy catch?!

At that moment, Su Qian poked out her little head and asked in a childish voice:

“Uncle Yu, is this canister… another treasure we’re supposed to hand over to the country?”

Looking into those innocent eyes, Yu Xian’s heart softened, and all his irritation melted into a helpless sigh.

“Yeah.”

He rubbed Su Qian’s head and forced out a smile.

“Uncle’s saving up your future dowry.”

“But…”

Su Qian blinked curiously.

“Didn’t you say you came here to fish? Why do you never catch any fish?”

The honesty of children cut the deepest.

Yu Xian felt another arrow pierce straight through his chest.

Captain Smith suddenly said excitedly:

“Oh right, Mr. Yu! Since you’re clearly an expert in this field, we actually have another troublesome case we’d like your help with! There’s supposedly a sunken World War II gold ship somewhere in the Pacific Ocean—”

“Not going!”

Yu Xian rejected him decisively.

“I’m going home! This damn place has terrible feng shui—it’s cursed against me!”

“Come on!”

Wang Dafu jumped anxiously beside him.

“Dad! It’s a gold ship! And… Miss Qin just sent a message. She said if you handle this too, she has a private island in the Pacific surrounded by completely untouched waters. Real prehistoric monster fish are everywhere there!”

Yu Xian’s departing footsteps suddenly froze.

Prehistoric giant fish?

Untouched waters?

Those two keywords were simply too tempting.

A fisherman had absolutely zero resistance against them.

He slowly turned around, his Adam’s apple bobbing with difficulty.

“On that island…” he asked hoarsely, “there definitely aren’t any naval mines? No corpses? No white powder?”

“Absolutely none!”

Wang Dafu slapped his chest confidently.

“It’s a deserted island! Nothing there except fish!”

Yu Xian fell silent for three seconds.

Then he slowly sat back down on the tractor seat, and the unyielding fighting spirit unique to fishermen reignited in his eyes.

“Fine.”

“One last time.”

With a grand wave of his hand, Yu Xian declared heroically:

“Pack everything up. Next stop—the Pacific Ocean! I refuse to believe that in this huge world, there isn’t a single pure land where I can quietly catch one damn fish!”

Under the setting sun, the “Salted Fish No. 2,” escorted by the Interpol fleet, sailed proudly toward the harbor like a victorious general returning from war.

Only Yu Xian himself knew how lonely his back looked.

Meanwhile, back on the Chinese internet, things had already exploded into complete chaos because of a casually uploaded photo by Su Wanyi—a shot of “Little Yu holding a fishing rod while confronting drug traffickers.”

Trending #1:
#SaltedFishGodfatherBattlesDrugCartelInMaldives!#

Trending #3:
#MasterYu: I Only Wanted Fish, Why Did You People Give Me A Ton Of White Powder?#

Trending #4:
#HelpfulCitizen, Naval-Mine Salvager, NemesisOfCrime, StarOfJustice—ThereAren’tManyTitlesLeftForMasterYu!#

The comment section was filled with countless worshipful netizens:

“I kneel! Is this the legendary ‘fishing law enforcement’?!”

“HAHAHAHA! Looking at Master Yu’s dead-inside silhouette makes me laugh so hard. Please, somebody let this man catch an actual fish in the Pacific! Otherwise next time he’s probably going to hook Godzilla!”