The Arctic Ice Plains.
There was no ocean here.
Only an endless expanse of glaciers.
And upon that massive ice sheet, an absurdly large warship was anchored.
At the highest point of this warship.
In a room as spacious as a palace.
Before a massive floor-to-ceiling window stood a man.
Blond hair.
Blue eyes.
His height reaching a full two and a half meters.
Muscles bulging like granite across his body.
He held a goblet made from a skull, filled with a crimson liquid.
He was Odin.
At this moment.
He was gazing at a holographic screen before him.
On the screen.
Was that photo spreading wildly across the World Channel.
The Berserker, hanging from the mast like a dead dog.
That was his most capable general.
The vanguard of his conquest over these seas.
Now.
Became someone else's banner.
Crack.
The hard skull goblet shattered into powder in his hand.
The crimson wine trickled down through his fingers.
Dripping onto the pristine white carpet.
Like blood.
"Interesting."
Odin's voice was deep.
Carrying a metallic, grating magnetism.
He was not enraged.
Nor was he panicked like those below him.
Even.
A hint of an amused smile appeared on his face.
"Qin Yu..."
"That legendary F-grade dead man?"
"I originally thought he was just a slightly larger ant."
"Never expected."
"He could still bite."
From behind him.
Out of the shadows.
A slender man in a black robe emerged.
Holding a cane embedded with a raven's eye.
"My King."
The robed man's voice was hoarse and grating.
"The Berserker failed his mission, his death is no loss."
"But this Qin Yu, this is a blatant challenge to your authority."
"Shall I dispatch the 'Valkyrie' unit?"
"To sink that ship outright."
"And bring back Qin Yu's head to craft your new goblet."
Odin turned around.
Those blue eyes flickered with tiny arcs of electricity.
"No."
He shook his head.
"The Valkyrie unit is reserved for dealing with that old charlatan Solomon."
"To use our trump card for a mere ant."
"Is not worth it."
Odin walked over to the enormous nautical chart.
His finger traced across it.
Finally stopping at the coordinates marking Qin Yu's location.
"However."
"An ant that bites must pay a price."
"Otherwise."
"The other trash on these seas might think I, Odin, can no longer wield my blade."
He turned his gaze to the robed man.
"Loki."
"Here."
"Dispatch two 'Black Raven' reconnaissance squads."
"Additionally."
"Notify the three nearby affiliated fleets."
"Issue them a 'Hunting Decree'."
"Whoever brings back Qin Yu's head."
"I will reward them with a bottle of 'Divine Blood Elixir'."
"And."
"Grant them entry into the 'Hall of Heroes'."
The robed man shuddered.
Divine Blood Elixir!
Entry into the Hall of Heroes!
These were the glory and power everyone on these seas dreamed of.
For this.
The madmen of those affiliated fleets would surely turn these seas upside down.
"As you command, my King."
The robed man bowed deeply.
"Then... about that Qin Yu's background..."
"Investigate."
Odin took another wine glass and filled it for himself.
"But don't put in too much effort."
"Go."
"Tell those hounds."
"Don't kill him all at once."
"I want him alive."
"I want to tear him apart piece by piece."
"In front of the whole world."
"Let everyone know."
"In this wasteland."
"Only I."
"Am the only..."
Odin didn't finish his sentence.
But the meaning was already clear.
Outside the window.
A bolt of lightning split the sky.
Illuminating his face filled with ambition and arrogance.
...
On the President.
Qin Yu sneezed.
"Achoo!"
He rubbed his nose.
"Who's talking about me?"
"Definitely up to no good."
Yao Qian was lying on the sofa, massaging Qin Yu's legs.
Hearing this, she looked up, blinking her big eyes.
"Brother Yu, is it that Odin?"
"I just saw on the forum that he's already issued some Hunting Decree."
"Saying whoever kills you will get some divine blood."
"Now a lot of people outside have gone crazy, saying they're coming to cause trouble for you."
After hearing this, Qin Yu wasn't angry at all.
Instead, he smiled even more happily.
He stuffed the last piece of beef into his mouth.
"Hunting Decree?"
"Good stuff."
"Isn't this just a free delivery service?"
Qin Yu stood up.
Walked to the control console.
Looking at the pitch-black sea area on the screen.
"Ruo Bing."
"Here."
"Send out our coordinates."
As soon as he said this.
Qi Chun, who was drinking soup, spat it out directly.
"Pfft—!!!"
"Cough cough! Brother Yu! Are you crazy?!"
"We can't hide fast enough!"
"And you want to reveal our location?!"
"You have a death wish?!"
Qin Yu looked at the terrified Qi Chun.
Reached out and patted his trembling chubby face.
"Fatty."
"Remember this."
"In this version."
"If you want to get rich."
"You have to learn to fish."
Qin Yu pointed at the red dots on the screen that were starting to stir.
His eyes flickered with a greedy light.
"These aren't enemies."
"These are clearly moving resource packs."
"My Plunder Value."
"Just happens to be running low."
"Since they want to play hunting."
"Then let's show them."
"Who the hunter really is."
"And who the prey is."
Qin Yu turned around, his back to everyone.
His voice wasn't loud.
But it carried a chilling coldness.
"Send it."
"Send it on the World Channel."
"I've even thought of the title."
"Call it: 'Coordinates here, if you're not afraid to die, come trade your life for it.'"
Li Ruobing's lips curved slightly.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard.
[Coordinates sent.]
[The World Channel is boiling again.]
...
This night.
Was destined to be sleepless.
Countless greedy eyes fixed on that flashing coordinate.
Countless modified warships adjusted their course.
Heading toward that vortex named "Death."
At full speed.
Qi Chun returned to his own ship.
And Qin Yu, at the center of the storm.
"Wives."
"Bath time."
"Sleep."
"Get plenty of rest."
"Tomorrow morning when we wake up."
"We'll..."
"Reel in the net."
Outside the window.
The blood moon hung high.
Waves crashed against the ship's side.
As if playing a prelude.
For the upcoming feast of slaughter.
And in that pitch-black seafloor.
The liquid metal enveloping the President was silently flowing, as if grinding its teeth, awaiting the nourishment of fresh blood.
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