The fishing boat glided soundlessly through the narrow, dark waterway, leaving the slaughter and bloodshed in the warehouse far behind.
Damp, slippery stone walls thick with moss lined both sides. Overhead, the shadows of arched bridges connecting the buildings on either bank occasionally swept past, creating a suffocating sense of oppression.
That oppressive feeling, however, did not last long.
With each stroke of the oars, the darkness ahead gradually receded, replaced by a vast, hazy glow.
When the fishing boat finally emerged from the throatlike tributary and entered the main channel, the view opened up abruptly, as though they had stepped straight out of a dark hell into the bustling world of the living.
This was the Treasure Island Grand Canal.
Even late at night, the canal remained busy, a stark contrast to the deathly silence of the warehouse and the dark waterway behind them.
Boats of every size crisscrossed the broad river in an endless stream.
Heavy cargo vessels sat low in the water, their massive hulls lumbering forward as boatmen called out work chants. Oars and poles broke the surface with heavy splashes.
The lighter fishing boats were far more agile. Lanterns hung from their bows as they slipped like fireflies between larger vessels. Occasionally, boatmen shouted greetings to acquaintances, their voices drifting across the water.
There were also lavishly decorated Flower Boats festooned with lanterns, clearly businesses run by players. The faint strains of string and wind instruments mingled with flirtatious laughter, adding a touch of decadence and extravagance to the busy waterway.
Lights of every kind hung from bows, gunwales, and masts. Orange, pallid white, and crimson glows intertwined, their reflections shimmering across the rippling surface until the entire canal resembled a dazzling ribbon of flowing light.
"Fuck, it's so lively out here..."
Black Solkin leaned