Next Step

One big reason there were few young people in the small town was that the old folks encouraged them to leave.

Because everyone knew staying in the town meant no way out, no future. It was a place for the elderly to retire, or rather, to be buried—unsuitable for young people to develop.

They didn't know where Henry came from or why. He could stay, and no one would be unwelcome. But in the end, he would still have to leave.

Today's question, seemingly casual, was also a test.

Because the guy didn't seem to be nursing a broken heart, nor was he likely a wanted fugitive or someone being hunted by the underworld. So there was no reason for him to stay with them in this dying town.

Since he was bound to leave eventually, where he went was something the old men had plenty to say about. It was just like the aunties back home who loved playing matchmaker.

But Henry didn't take the bait. Instead, he said in a joking tone, "How am I supposed to get there? Swim?"

Old John, standing behind the bar, suddenly spoke up. "If you're short on travel money, I've got some saved up."

Henry turned to look at the old man seriously.

Maybe it was the saying 'nothing comes for free without a catch' that stuck too deep in his mind, so his first instinct was to pull back, to refuse.

But a person's eyes could convey a lot. This man, who had been through war and lost both his sons on the battlefield, genuinely wanted to help others. At least his clear eyes dared to meet yours directly.

Old John added, "Don't overthink it. It's just your pay for working here. I just hadn't given it to you before."

"Come on. This isn't some five-star hotel. How high could the salary be? I dare say if you really paid me, I might not be able to afford the food I've eaten. My meals are already bad enough; if you cut them back, I wouldn't survive."

Old John huffed angrily, "I'm the owner of this bar, don't you worry, you little brat. I've got more savings than you think. I could hire a college girl to suck my big dick anytime."

"Save that for a decent coffin for yourself. Otherwise, you'll make the stray dogs work hard digging you out of the ground, only to find no meat on your bones. You're harming the dogs."

Henry's sharp retort got the crowd laughing, and Old John was fuming.

Then someone suddenly said, "If you need money, why not go catch crabs?"

"Ah, it's that season, isn't it."

"Yeah, the ban's about to lift. I hear a lot of captains are already looking for crew."

"Didn't someone try to sell their crab boat? Been a year now, no luck?"

"You think it's possible? That guy just wants to find a captain, be the owner himself, and let others take the risks. Who'd really sell a boat that's like a goldmine?"

That's how it was in a small-town bar. You didn't need to actively dig for gossip; just start a topic, and all kinds of messy news would come out on their own.

But this time, Henry was confused. He asked Old John, "What crabs are we talking about? Is there really money in it?"

Old John looked unimpressed, but another old man nearby quickly said, "King crabs! You know king crabs? Spread their legs out, and they're almost as tall as a person—huge things."

"King crabs!" Henry, who was broke in his past life and broke in this one, had never eaten one but had at least seen pictures and knew what they were.

If it was king crabs, with their sky-high prices, the people catching them could probably make real money.

Old John sneered, "But working on a crab boat is exhausting and dangerous."

"At least it's honest work, not murder, arson, or bank robbery. And the money comes fast. A skilled captain, a week or two, comes back fully loaded—at least three hundred thousand dollars. A greenhorn with no experience can make fifty thousand a trip."

Though it had only been a little over a month since he left the underground lab, and his bar job didn't involve handling accounts, Henry could still gauge the purchasing power of the US dollar from everything around him. It was about the same as in his past life.

A bottle of beer cost one to one-fifty dollars. A big steak was five to ten dollars. For five bucks, Old John would bring out a basin full of mashed potatoes and broccoli.

A regular house in town cost less than ten thousand dollars. Even a bar like Old John's, including interior decoration and furniture, would run thirty to fifty thousand.

Of course, that was because the town was remote and not a great place, so housing and locally produced goods were cheap.

If things had to be shipped in, especially from outside Alaska, the prices shot up.

That meant one trip on a crab boat would be enough to settle down in town. That temptation was more than enough for Henry.

But he wasn't about to jump on a crab boat without thinking. Henry looked at Old John, who was scowling. The reason he got along with this old man was that they both had steady, cautious personalities—they'd rather play it safe than take risks.

So Henry wanted to hear Old John's opinion.

The old man behind the bar seemed to catch the questioning look and said grumpily, "If you want to get on a crab boat, I won't stop you. At least it's a job.

"But you need to think it through. Crab fishing isn't just tiring and dangerous—dying at sea wouldn't surprise anyone. Every year, there are unlucky souls whose whole boat never comes back. I hope you at least know what you're getting into."

The two-month annual king crab season was a major industry in Alaska.

Alaskans didn't exactly have a saying like 'you're not a real man if you haven't been on a crab boat,' nor did they all avoid it because of the risks. But they weren't exactly enthusiastic about the job either.

Fast money meant nothing if you weren't alive to spend it. Unless they were desperate or needed a big chunk of cash, most Alaskans wouldn't choose to work on a crab boat.

That, in turn, worsened the labor shortage on crab boats, driving up wages in hopes of attracting more outsiders willing to risk their lives.

So Old John didn't pour cold water on Henry's eager attitude, nor did he encourage it. He just laid out the facts as fairly as he saw them.

Old John's indifferent tone certainly wasn't enough to kill Henry's interest. Having been both a corporate drone and a shut-in in his past life, Henry knew all too well what money meant in modern society.

As the saying goes, money isn't everything, but without it, you can do nothing. Robbing the whole town probably wouldn't net ten thousand dollars in cash. So was there a better way out than getting on a crab boat?

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