The Rich Cultivator-Chapter 374 - 373. Dragon Boats

Almost everyone in the Northern Ocean knew what the Dragon Boats were.

From afar, they resembled massive traditional dragon-shaped vessels gliding across the sea—majestic and awe-inspiring. But that wasn’t the only reason they were called Dragon Boats.

These ships were the floating cities of the seas, legendary platforms of trading. Each Dragon Boat was under the direct command of one of the Seven Overlords—specifically, the Dragon King, Long Wang. His emblem, a soaring Eastern dragon twisting through clouds, was etched into every timber, sail, and flag on the vessel.

Because of their association with Long Wang, an immortal overlord whose name struck fear and reverence alike, no one dared provoke the Dragon Boats. Pirates, merchants, and adventurers alike respected the unspoken law of the sea: never go against a Dragon Boat.

They were sanctuaries in the unforgiving waters—a neutral ground, a trading post, and sometimes even a last refuge for ships running from danger. Regardless of affiliation, once aboard a Dragon Boat, everyone abided by its rules.

"Some pirates tried to attack one of the Dragon Boats," Lily reported, standing in the command room aboard the White Pearl. "The head of this fishery was apparently involved in the conspiracy. That’s why the Dragon Boat that just left annihilated him—and every pirate foolish enough to support the attack. Now that the authority is gone, other pirates saw an opportunity and started looting what’s left."

Tyler’s eyes narrowed.

"There are really people out there who’d dare to do something so stupid?" he muttered, swirling the wine in his hand. "The Dragon King is an Immortal. Even if the Seven Overlords aren’t in their territories, you don’t just pick a fight with a immortal’s property."

He pointed the bottle toward Lily. "Pour me a glass."

Lily wordlessly took the bottle, uncorked it, and poured the shimmering silver wine into a delicate glass.

"Yeah," she said quietly, "Who in their right mind would provoke an Immortal as a mere mortal?"

She placed it on the table where the surface reflected Tyler’s face, warped slightly by the gentle ripples.

Tyler raised an eyebrow, tapping the glass with his finger.

"Alright," he said casually, "Since this fishery’s been abandoned... why don’t we take it?"

Lily nearly choked.

"Are you insane?" she blurted. "This place was just attacked by a Dragon Boat. It’s basically their spoils now. Touching it might be seen as disrespect."

"Huh," Tyler shrugged. "But they left without claiming it. No personnel, no arrangements, no guards—it’s as if they don’t care. Maybe they’ve written it off as collateral damage or a minor site not worth their attention."

He stood and walked toward the observation deck, looking out over the battered fishery. Several pirate ships still lingered, scavenging what they could, their sails torn and hulls scorched. The air smelled of smoke, salt, and desperation.

"Let’s do this the official way. Find the surviving members of the previous fishery head’s family and offer to buy the place from them. We could take it by force, sure—but making it legal gives us leverage and legitimacy."

Lily stared at him, still stunned. "You really plan to rob the whole place?"

"Not robbing," Tyler corrected. "Claim it. Control it. Manage it. Fisheries are the backbone of survival on the sea, especially for islands. If we control a Level 3 Fishery, we gain steady income, resources, and presence. That’s power."

He turned his gaze to the chaos below.

"Oh, and one more thing—drive off those scavengers. This place is under new management."

---

The Next Day

Across the waves, a battered pirate ship limped away from the fishery, its tattered sails barely holding in the wind.

There are many pirate ships are also fleeing away.

"Damn it!" the captain of the Beast Skull Pirates growled, clutching the wooden rail as seawater sprayed over the deck. "Where the hell did those sons of riches come from?! How many Aura and Prana stones are they burning on those Energy Cannons?!"

Half their ship’s figurehead—a massive beast skull—had been melted into a blackened stub. Several decks were smoldering, and their crew was in shambles. They hadn’t even gotten close before they were blasted back by relentless volleys of energy.

Behind them, the once-chaotic Level 3 Fishery now looked surprisingly quiet. Smoke still rose from some wrecks, but the looting had stopped. Most pirates had already fled or were sunk trying to test their luck against the White Pearl.

The captain gritted his teeth. "Who are they?"

"They looked like merchants," said the vice-captain, who was nursing a bloodied stump where his left arm used to be. "From the southern seas, maybe. But that ship... it’s something else."

The captain spit overboard. "Tch. Looks like a new power’s trying to rise in the north."

He turned and barked to his remaining crew, "What are you all gawking at? Set course for Fun Streak Island! Move it!"

---

Back on the White Pearl, Tyler leaned on the polished wooden rail, gazing out at the receding silhouettes of pirate ships shrinking into the misty horizon. The ocean breeze swept his long coat behind him, and he lifted a glass of silver wine to his lips, the cool liquid swirling like quicksilver.

Behind him, Lily stepped onto the deck, her boots clicking against the planks. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the glint of the wine in his hand. "You’re just drinking that to look cool, aren’t you?"

Tyler smirked, tilting the glass toward her before taking another sip. "Yeah... Tastes average. And honestly, it looks too much like mercury for my liking."

He lowered the glass and turned his attention back to the sea. "What about the rest of the pirates?"

Lily leaned beside him, arms crossed. "The ones looking for blood ran off. We sank four more of their ships. A few are still hanging around, but they’re just trying to trade now."

"Good," Tyler nodded. "Send a few people to those sinking islands nearby. See if we can make them float again using buoyancy arrays. Once that’s done, build a trading center on top and rename this place... something simple. Call it White Fishery 001 or whatever. The locals who want to stay can work under us. Those who don’t just let them leave... As for man power... " He paused, tapping the glass against the railing. "Buy some slaves from the pirates. Have them maintain the fishery instead."

"But to run a proper fishery," a voice chimed in suddenly, "you’ll need at least one Grandmaster on site."

Mana appeared out of thin air beside them.

Tyler didn’t flinch. He was used to her habit of appearing without warning. "Yeah, I know. I’ve already contacted one. He’s under our command. Should arrive as soon as we finish building a portable waypoint unit."

"And the slaves?" Lily asked.

"We’ll need more," Tyler said bluntly. "Preferably Grandmaster-level slaves if we can find them. If I buy many Islands in the north, I want someone to take care of."

Mana’s lips curled into a faint smile. "Actually... Mana knows a place."

Both Tyler and Lily turned to her with interest.

"It’s a strange island," Mana said. "Run by a lunatic dressed like a clown. They call it Fun Streak Island."

"Fun Streak Island sounds like a fun place," Tyler remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Mana has only heard about it from her father," Mana replied calmly. "He warned it’s not a place for children and never took Mana there."

Tyler coughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Well then... we’ll set sail for Fun Streak Island in a few days."

---

Far away, hidden among reefs and illusions, stood an island unlike any other. The trees were unnaturally vibrant—painted in shades of yellow, blue, and orange, their leaves shimmering like carnival confetti. Colorful flags flapped in the salty breeze, and in the center of the island, a towering circus-like mansion loomed with a red-and-white striped roof.

Laughter echoed from within the mansion.

But it wasn’t the kind that brought joy.

Inside one of its vast, dimly lit chambers, a twisted mockery of merriment unfolded. The room was lit by flickering bulbs, their yellow light casting eerie shadows on the striped walls. In the center, a large merry-go-round creaked as it spun, its wooden horses chipped and bloodstained.

Strapped to the horses were a dozen individuals—humans, elves, beastmen, and merfolk. Their faces were painted like clowns, eyes wide with terror, mouths gagged with rags soaked in saltwater. Chains bound their limbs, forcing them upright as the carousel spun endlessly in the dark.

The laughter had stopped.

Silence fell like a noose.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor outside. The prisoners stiffened. The sound grew louder, closer, until a sudden burst of light poured in from the doorway.

The silhouette of a man appeared in the doorway.

All of them trembled at his sight.

"So shall we begin our requiem? HAHAHAHAHAHA "

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Author Here:

Kid: Mom, can we get Joker?

Mom: We have Joker at home.

Joker at home: