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Northern Territory.

Bubbles gently rose.

Two spiny puffers swished their tails.

"What's going on with the boss? Haven't seen a fish shadow in months."

"Not quite sure, but he's closed his doors to all visitors."

"Some days ago, I heard that a trade caravan of the Dashun Dynasty had been attacked and suffered heavy losses. Do you think it could have been..."

"Shh, don't talk nonsense..." One of the spiny puffers was about to speak, but caught something from the corner of its eye and suddenly shouted, "Hey! You with the fat tail! Sneaking around near our Spiny Puffer Tribe's territory, what are you up to?"

Plop!

The mud stirred, and with a flick of a tail, a radish popped out, sending up a large cloud of mud and black silt.

A fat-tailed fish?

Another dimwitted brute who couldn't tell heads from tails.