The Emperor’s Angel of Death

This was a fortified position, not only deploying Hydra troops but also several machine gun nests and two assault guns, all intended to intercept potential enemies from the sea. However, there had been no enemy activity for a long time, and the soldiers were gathered in small groups, chatting, grilling, or gambling.

Dawson watched for a while, guessing that the other party had probably gone to sleep. He then walked towards his fishing rod and picked up his bucket.

Besides collecting shells, his second activity here was fishing. The fish in this alien world were exceptionally delicious, great for grilling and even better raw. However, they were quite clever, requiring a bit of skill to catch, something the useless soldiers generally failed at.

After all, corpse starch was incredibly bland; he needed something fresh.

"Hey, Captain, catch a big one that'll feed all of us!"

A group of soldiers saw Dawson carrying his homemade fishing rod towards the sea and immediately burst into laughter.

Dawson spat.

"If it's really that big, it's hard to say who'll be eating whom!"

Soon, he arrived at his favorite rock, opened his tackle box, took out a lure, attached it to the fishing line, tested the wind direction, adjusted his position, and swung his arm, casting it into the vast ocean.

The bobber began to rise and fall gently in the waves. Dawson stared at the surface. The seawater here was very clear, and in theory, he should be able to see what was in the water. However, there were many strange algae, making the underwater environment quite complex. It took him many tries to figure out the length of the fishing line that wouldn't get caught in the seaweed.

All that was left was to wait.

Dawson sat down.

"Strange."

But within seconds, he felt a chill coming from the water, as if a pair of cruel eyes were staring at him from beneath the surface.

This reminded him of a childhood memory. When he was nine years old, he and two friends had secretly taken a small boat out to sea to fish. Due to the wind, they drifted too far. However, they weren't afraid at the time, figuring they could row back with the oars, so they simply started fishing where they were.

It was then that he first felt fear of the sea. Beneath the deep, dark seabed, something was watching them. Dawson felt it, and out of fear, he reeled in his fishing rod, but his companions didn't.

Soon, a huge force grabbed his friends' fishing rod. They thought it was a big fish, and the two of them grabbed the rod together, even calling for Dawson to help. But as Dawson hesitated, the two of them were dragged underwater with screams. He was so scared that he huddled at the bow of the boat, letting the small boat rock violently. When everything calmed down a few minutes later, he only found two shoes floating on the surface. His two companions had completely disappeared beneath the sea.

Since then, he had a fear of the ocean, as well as anger. He wished he could have a large ship so he could hunt those "sea monsters" that the adults talked about, to avenge his past cowardice.

But now, that feeling was back. He saw the marine plants beneath the surface trembling, as if living beings whose nerves were being painfully disturbed, twisting at a slow and ominous pace—

The next second, a huge force came from the fishing rod in his hand, almost pulling it out of his grip. The fishing line was also being pulled off the reel at a frantic pace.

"Ha! Here it comes!"

Dawson instinctively grabbed the fishing rod and began to reel in the line while pulling backward.

This was a big one!

The challenge from the prey ignited Dawson's determination. He began to use all his strength to compete with it. Perhaps today he could really catch a big one that would feed the entire company!

He poured all his will and strength into his arms, changing from a sitting position to a half-kneeling position, so focused that he didn't even notice the chest communicator ringing.

And his fishing rod was gradually being pulled into a huge arc, threatening to break at any moment.

Suddenly, the soldiers noticed that in the surge and ebb of the waves, the surface of the water folded, and a blunt snout of a behemoth emerged from the dense seaweed.

But it was so fast that Dawson didn't see its figure clearly, only a dim flash and the silver bubbles rippling.

Immediately afterward, the water flowed violently, and it seemed that a huge mass of gray muscle was twisting. Dawson realized something was wrong, but a fisherman's pride prevented him from giving up his prey—

The next second, accompanied by an ominous cracking sound, the force in his hand disappeared, and his fishing rod broke into three pieces.

Dawson fell backward to the ground. Annoyance and anger made him roar, and then he noticed that the communicator had been ringing for a long time. He quickly pressed the power button.

"Hello, hello, hello!"

However, the only things that responded to him from the other end were screams and roars, as well as intense gunfire and a unique, bubbling gurgling sound.

"Ah! Crap! Enemy attack!"

Dawson was shocked and finally realized that the gunfire wasn't coming from the communicator, but from behind him.

The soldier suddenly stood up and reached for his pistol.

But the next second, his body froze—

A familiar, fishy smell of the sea assailed him, and a damp and terrifying figure appeared in front of him.

For a moment, he blinked, thinking he was dreaming.

That creature, which only appeared in the deepest parts of nightmares, was as tall as a giant. The skin on its back was like battle-damaged iron, with dirty gray-blue patches, while the skin on its abdomen was rubbery white. Its rhomboid head had a pair of eyes like glassy black holes, filled with bizarre desire.

Its limbs were very strong, and it wore strange coral-like armor. There was a metal backpack above its dorsal fin, with tubes connecting to its gills. The thick caudal fin floated from side to side, as if riding the ocean currents. Its left hand held a metal harpoon-like weapon, and its right hand was on the gun belt at its waist.

Most importantly, apart from its limbs, it was completely a giant carnivorous fish!

Dawson had heard legends of so-called fish-men in his hometown, people who had stolen the treasures of the sea and were cursed. They would emerge from the deep sea on nights when the bright moon hung in the sky and prowl along the coastline, snatching anyone they saw, especially children.

But when he grew up, he knew that those were stories told by adults to scare children away from dangerous beaches, so he never took them seriously.

But today, he really saw one!

That terrifying maw, those rows of white teeth, seemed to exist only in the darkest abyssal trenches.

And at the corner of its mouth, there was still a fishing line hanging.

Dawson immediately raised his pistol, but when he pulled the trigger, it only made a clicking sound.

He forgot to release the safety!

"Ah!"

The next second, the creature pierced his shoulder with the harpoon, pinning him in place.

Then the monster opened its hideous mouth, but made no sound.

"Oh, God..."

In an instant, his consciousness plunged into that bloody and deep sea—