Bureaucrats!! Heh Heh!

Bai Zhu stared at Pushi for two seconds, and the thread in his mind finally connected.

The fish hold was safe.

The water was clean.

Fish blood was clean.

All three statements were insane, but there was something in that insanity.

Thirty years ago, that fishing vessel had met with disaster, and Pushi had survived by hiding in the fish hold.

That raised a question.

The ship had been flooded with seawater, and the fish hold could not possibly have been clean either. Fish blood, briny water, freshly caught fish—none of them sounded like a Safe Zone.

If the parasite's infection rate in seawater was close to one hundred percent, why had Pushi been all right?

Bai Zhu spun around and grabbed an old sailor beside him by the arm.

The old sailor had been holding a gaff hook, ready to head down and help in the lower deck. Bai Zhu yanked him over so abruptly that he was completely bewildered.

"When you used to work fishing vessels, what was normally in the fish hold?"

The old sailor froze.

"Huh?"

Bai Zhu sharpened his tone.

"Something in the fish hold that wasn't in the sea."

The question gave the old sailor the creeps.

"Why are you asking that now?"

Bai Zhu suppressed his anger.

"Answer me."

The old sailor swallowed.

"Something in the fish hold that isn't in the sea? Ice, obviously."

Bai Zhu loosened his fingers.

The old sailor hurriedly added.

"It keeps the fish frozen and fresh. Without ice, they'd stink by the time we got back to port."

Bai Zhu turned toward Pushi.

Pushi was still muttering.

"The fish hold was safe."

"The water was clean."

"Fish blood was clean."

Bai Zhu cursed under his breath.

"It wasn't the fish hold that was safe. It was the