Chapter 82: The Gathering on Fishman Island

Sliya didn’t want to waste a single moment.

He immediately took the lead, guiding everyone forward and picking up the pace.

Sliya had been waiting at the spot for a long while. Though nervous inside, the moment he saw Karl, all his worries faded away.

He led Karl and the group deeper into Fishman Street.

At the far end of Fishman Street stood a brightly lit hall.

The hall was spacious, packed full with bustling Fishmen.

It was a brand new building, recently constructed for hosting various meetings.

The place buzzed with the noise of conversation, a constant roar of voices.

“Lord Karl hasn’t arrived yet?”

“How long has Sliya been gone this time?”

“It’s already been about an hour, hasn’t it?”

Although Leo belonged to the turtle tribe, he was anything but slow. Unlike most turtles, he was jittery and impatient—truly an oddball among his people.

“Don’t sweat it, Leo. If Lord Karl promised to come, he won’t be late.”

“Yeah, Leo, relax a little.”

Kano from the octopus tribe nodded in agreement.

The three of them were the organizers of this banquet and also the three secret pieces Krell left behind on Fishman Island.

Kano, calm and steady by nature, was currently responsible for coordinating manpower and supplies with Cake Island.

There were already close to 800,000 Fishmen settled in the Sweets Sea.

Since the Sweets Sea was only partly developed, all 56 islands needed work. Eight months just wasn’t enough to get them all ready, so they couldn’t accommodate more Fishmen just yet.

At the same time, they had to both build up all 56 islands and create homes under the sea.

Most Fishmen liked living on land so they could bask in the sunlight, but they just weren’t used to life above the waves and actually preferred being underwater.

After months of registration, the Fishmen population had already surpassed 1.7 million on the books.

Truth was, the Fishmen had massive numbers. When they migrated to Fishman Island, word spread quickly across the surrounding seas, and other Fishmen—mainly descendants of the ancient Fishmen—sent scouts to check things out.

Once they learned that there was a chance to enter the New World and enjoy real sunshine, many Fishmen came back to Fishman Street with their families. The locals started welcoming them into their community, which caused the population to soar.

Alo, who mediated between the ancient Fishmen and the newer generation, was a descendant of the whale shark tribe. He might be seventy-two years old, but for his kind that was like being twenty-two—after all, they lived for over three centuries.

Meanwhile, the hot-tempered Leo from the turtle tribe managed the Fishmen’s combat division.

“Creak!”

Rakali pushed open the doors and called out to the Fishmen inside.

“Lord Karl has arrived!”

“Wait, really? He’s actually here?”

“Well, now that Karl’s here, let’s head out and greet him!”

Kano rose to his feet first and led the group out the door.

“Greetings, Lord Karl.”

“Greetings, Lord Karl.”

As Karl and the others reached the entrance, this was the sight that greeted them.

In front stood the three leaders—Kano, Leo, and Alo—with a huge crowd of Fishmen behind them.

Everyone bowed deeply to Karl.

“Alright, that’s enough. Come on, let’s all head inside.”

“Of course, Lord Karl. Please, this way.”

Kano straightened up, watching Karl eagerly before quickly directing the crowd to part and make way.

Kano led Karl and his companions to the innermost banquet table.

The table was enormous, smelling faintly of fresh seaweed—clearly newly made, probably just for Karl’s visit.

Once everyone was seated, Kano and the others lifted their glasses and turned to Karl.

“Welcome to Fishman Island, Lord Karl. Let’s all raise a glass to your arrival and give our heartfelt thanks.”

“Lord Karl, thank you for lending us your support.”

“Cheers!”

Over a hundred Fishmen stood up, grabbing their cups and shouting in unison.

“Cheers!”

“Thank you all for such a warm welcome.”

“Bottoms up!”

“Clink!”

Everyone tapped their glasses together, then threw back their drinks in one gulp.

“Lord Karl, please take your seat.”

“Alright, everyone sit.”

Seeing the genuine look in Kano’s eyes, Karl instructed everyone to sit first, then finally took his own seat.

With no lengthy introductions, the banquet began—somewhat hurried but lively nonetheless.

Karl tasted a few dishes, sampling them lightly.

He couldn’t help but notice that a few people seemed like they wanted to say something but held back.

He sensed there was more to this dinner, but he’d come prepared—otherwise he wouldn’t have shown up at all.

“If you have something to say, just say it!”

Karl smiled, glancing at Kano.

He slipped a small fish into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he spoke.

Kano exchanged looks with the others, but eventually took the lead in speaking up.

“Lord Karl, here’s the thing. We know it wouldn’t be right to ask you to end the unrest on Fishman Island for us, so we actually wanted to discuss something else.”

Karl’s expression grew thoughtful.

He’d assumed this was all about helping to stop the chaos on Fishman Island.

After all, he’d already learned a fair bit about the current situation.

The unrest had grown so severe that it was interfering with daily life on Fishman Street.

Some Fishmen had even been forcibly drafted as soldiers.

He just hadn’t expected the topic to be something different.

Now he was curious—what could be even more important?

Davis and the others also set down their chopsticks, turning to Kano.

“Go on!”

Kano swallowed nervously under everyone’s gaze, then spoke slowly.

“We wanted to know—how many Fishmen can survive within Lord Karl’s Sweets Sea?”

“We can’t change the chaos on Fishman Island, but we just want a safer future for our people.”

“That’s why we’re asking you, Lord Karl—can you take in more Fishmen?”

Karl didn’t answer right away. He glanced around the room, seeing over a hundred Fishmen from different tribes.

Something felt off. After a careful look, he realized each tribe had a single representative. This wasn’t just a party—it was more like a council.

Still, he knew he couldn’t afford to lose the trust of the Fishmen.

He’d need their help with a lot of future plans.

Drawing his gaze back to Kano, he remembered that Kano was the one in charge of keeping track of Fishman numbers.

“Are you the representatives of your tribes?”

The Fishmen nodded quietly, giving him the confirmation he needed.

“I have a general picture of your situation.”

“Roughly how many people are left now?”

“We have 1.75 million in total. At the moment, 800,000 are already living in the Sweets Sea, leaving about 950,000 here on Fishman Island.”

After Kano spoke, the Fishmen looked at Karl, eyes shining with hope.

They were eager to hear good news from him.

“That’s quite a number.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“Right now, the Sweets Sea isn’t big enough for everyone.”

“But don’t worry. Give us a few more years—once all the islands in Sweets Sea are fully developed, we should be able to take everyone in.”

Hearing Karl’s reassurance, the room filled with relieved sighs.

As long as Karl gave his word, they didn’t mind waiting a few more years.

“Alright then, let’s eat!”

With spirits high, everyone burst out laughing and started coming up to toast Karl one after another.

After a quick round of toasts, Kano and the others sat down with Karl to talk over their plans for what came next.

With such a huge population,

issues like livelihood, environment, and housing all had to be tackled step by step.

…