Chapter 380: Chapter 287: Hunting
He hung up.
An impatient crewman immediately rushed forward to ask what was going on. Seeing this, the others all gathered around, chattering and gossiping.
"Captain, what did the boss want? Is he sending us on a deep-sea run?"
"Awesome! My bones are about to rust over. I hear the tuna over in the waters off Africa are worth a lot of money right now."
"Lobster would be good too. As long as we can get back out on the water, I don’t care where we go. It’s better than sitting around on the island with nothing to do."
"Everyone, shut up!"
Alvin’s brow furrowed at the sight of the chaos. He bellowed, his demeanor instantly shifting back to the stern authority befitting the captain of the River Beach.
He put his phone away, his eyes scanning every crewman of the River Beach. Then, in a deliberately grave tone, he said...
"The boss said he’s inviting us to the Crown Territory for Christmas. Everyone can bring their families. He’s sending a plane to pick us up in a couple of days."
The moment the words left his mouth, the crew of the River Beach erupted into a frenzy.
None of the crew had ever heard of the Crown Territory, but then it hit them—being invited to spend a holiday with the boss was a huge honor.
"We’re going to the Crown Territory?"
"And we can bring our families? With so many of us going... the boss must be loaded."
"I heard the boss built a whole town in the Far North Tundra."
However, when the crews of the other crabbing boats overheard the news, every one of their faces fell. A bitter taste filled their mouths.
Without comparison, you wouldn’t know. But with it, the difference was staggering.
Now *that’s* what you call a boss.
Take this year’s crabbing season, for example. The pay for the River Beach’s crew was enough to make anyone green with envy.
Even the greenest hand on the boat easily cleared 500,000 US Dollars.
And they got paid right on the dot. The money was in their hands the moment they stepped off the boat, without being shorted a single cent.
All the crew had to do was focus on their work, never worrying about whether they’d get paid.
Then they looked at their own boats. They worked themselves to the bone every time they went out, slaving away day and night to catch crabs. When the season finally ended, they still had to wait around for the captain to sell the catch.
In the meantime, the captain would deduct all sorts of bogus fees—"wear and tear," "tool depreciation," and so on. After he nickel-and-dimed them, there wasn’t much left to begin with, and even then, they had to wait ages to get paid.
Even worse, they’d heard stories of several crabbing boat captains who, after selling the crabs, secretly sold their boats too and just skipped town.
Those poor bastards on the crew had it the worst. They’d toiled for an entire crabbing season only to have it all be for nothing, not getting paid a single cent.
Seeing how happy Alvin and his crew were, the comparison made their own bad luck feel even worse. They just couldn’t shake the sour feeling of jealousy.
"Alvin, are we still going for drinks or what?" one of the other crewmen shouted impatiently.
’Drinks?’
’Drinks, my ass.’
’The boss invited us for Christmas. We can’t just show up empty-handed, can we?’
Alvin shot the other crewman a disdainful look. "You guys go on without us. Our boss invited us for Christmas. Lads, gear up! Let’s go catch some seafood for the boss. I hear he’s got some big gifts prepared for us."
’Gifts!’
’Knowing how generous the boss always is, the gifts have to be expensive.’
The crewmen immediately started whooping with excitement.
They looked like they were ready to jump into the Bering Sea right then and there to catch a couple of Sea Dogs for the boss, just to show what they could do.
"Let’s go, let’s go! Mommy says I’m not allowed to play with the other kids," a heavily tattooed crewman taunted the men from the other boats.
Then the whole group left, crowding around Alvin as they went.
HAAACK... PTUI!!
A thick glob of phlegm landed on the snow.
The taunted crewman watched the figures from the River Beach disappear into the distance.
All thoughts of fighting, drinking, and shouting evaporated, leaving nothing but a thick cloud of envy in their wake.
"Fack, no matter what, I’m getting on the River Beach next year."
"I heard from Alvin that their boss ordered three more crabbing boats, same tonnage as the River Beach."
"For real? I’m gonna go ask."
A few of the smarter crewmen chased after Alvin, while the ones who were slow on the uptake remained behind, still complaining.
....
「The next day.」
Feng Mountain woke up early and went into the gun room to prepare his gear for the day’s hunt.
For his rifle, he stuck with the Type 56 semi-automatic. He also brought a .22 caliber air pistol, which would be plenty.
He was planning to hunt small game like Thunderbirds, grouse, and snow hares. A rifle round would blow them to pieces, but a .22 was just right.
Other than that, he just packed some extra ammunition and a snow-camo poncho.
He grabbed his gear and left the log cabin.
When he arrived at the designated meeting spot,
Feng Mountain was surprised to see how many people had shown up just to go hunting.
There was Nash, Yves, Feng Jun, Wawa, Director Roland, Sun Jia, and four old men who looked unsteady on their feet.
"Alright, that’s enough. Nash and Yves can come with me. The rest of you can scatter!"
"Hey, hey, hey, Xiaofeng, take us with you! I’ve lived this long and never even hunted a bear," Old Liu said, sidling up to him cheekily.
Feng Mountain cocked his head and gave him a look. ’He’s dressed so bulky he looks like a bear himself, and he wants to go hunt one?’
’Besides, who said anything about hunting bears?’
"Listen, you four gentlemen, give it a rest. It’s freezing out here, and we’ll be pushing through the woods. With your constitutions, you’d be better off taking a stroll around camp. Don’t get involved."
"What’s wrong with our constitutions? Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ’There’s life in the old dog yet, he can still... COUGH! COUGH! COUGH!’" Rabbit Old Zhang protested, standing up and straightening his back. But a gust of wind caught him mid-sentence, and he broke into a fit of coughing.
"Alright, just stay put at the camp. We’re not going out for a picnic," Feng Mountain said, bluntly rejecting the four old men. He then turned to Director Roland. "Why are you still here? Christmas is just around the corner. Go on, get back to your family."
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