Chapter 274

The sea near Xianshan was cold and distant, its waves crashing against the jagged rocks below like a thousand forgotten souls. The town of Xianshan had never been known for its charm, but it drew people in with its coastal restaurant, which had been in business for decades. Some came for the seafood, some for the view, and others, the more adventurous ones, for the mystery. The mystery of the disappearing people.

The locals had grown used to the disappearances, but newcomers always seemed to ask the same question: "Where do they go?"

Xiaoyu was one such newcomer. A young man in his early twenties, he had come to the town for a fresh start, trying to escape the weight of his past. He found a job as a busboy at the sea-side restaurant. It was quiet work, perfect for someone who didn't want to be noticed. The town felt like a prison of its own, with a tight-knit community that lived in its own little world.

The restaurant was owned by an old man named Mr. Wang, whose family had run it for generations. The walls were decorated with faded photographs of fishermen, some of whom had long since disappeared, their faces frozen in time. The air was thick with the scent of saltwater and frying fish, the kind of smell that never quite left your clothes.

It wasn't until his third week working there that Xiaoyu began to notice the strange things. The way the customers always ordered the same dishes, the way they left with hasty goodbyes, never stopping to admire the view like they had when they first arrived. It wasn't until the evening of the fifth week that he truly understood why.

It was a quiet night, the kind where the moon hung low in the sky, casting its pale light over the water. The restaurant was nearly empty, save for a lone couple sitting at the far end of the room. Xiaoyu had finished his duties, clearing tables and refilling drinks. Mr. Wang had disappeared into the back to attend to some business, as he often did.

The couple had been there for hours, silent and stiff. Xiaoyu found it odd, but not enough to question. He'd seen plenty of couples like them in the weeks since he started. There was something strange about them, though—something about the way they didn't seem to fit. Their faces were pale, almost unnatural under the dim light, and they seemed to avoid looking directly at the sea.

As Xiaoyu walked past their table to the kitchen, he heard the man speak in a low voice. "We should go. Now."

The woman nodded, but her eyes were distant, like she was lost in thought. "I don't want to leave," she muttered.

Before Xiaoyu could react, the man stood up abruptly, pulling the woman by the arm. Their hasty departure made Xiaoyu uneasy, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. The couple exited through the front door, but something in the back of Xiaoyu's mind told him to look outside.

He did, and for a moment, he wished he hadn't.

In the distance, the couple was moving toward the rocky edge of the sea. The man led the woman by the hand, their movements jerky, unnatural. Xiaoyu felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he watched them approach the jagged rocks, the place where the waves crashed against the shore.

Then, as if in response to some unseen force, a sudden gust of wind swept across the restaurant. The lights flickered, and Xiaoyu's heart began to race. The wind, sharp and cold, carried a strange sound with it—like a deep, guttural growl, something that didn't belong. It was the sound of the sea, but it was more than that. It felt alive.

A few moments later, the woman fell. Her scream was swallowed by the roar of the ocean, and Xiaoyu saw the man yank her back toward him with unnatural strength. The couple disappeared from sight as the tide surged forward.

Frozen, Xiaoyu's thoughts whirled. He couldn't explain it, but something in him knew. The restaurant had seen this before. Many times. The same strange behavior, the same hasty departures, the same pale faces. The town had known for years, but no one spoke of it.

He didn't know what drove him to it, but Xiaoyu ran outside, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached the rocks, panting and wide-eyed, his eyes scanning the horizon. There was nothing there but the endless sea and the dark sky. The waves crashed violently against the shore.

Then, something caught his eye. Something... moving beneath the surface. Xiaoyu's breath caught in his throat as a massive shadow shifted just below the waterline, something far too large to be a fish, but just as much of the sea.

The sound that followed made his stomach drop—a deafening, wet, gurgling noise that echoed in the air, followed by the harsh, sickening snap of bone. It was the sound of something dying, but it was too monstrous to be human.

Xiaoyu stumbled backward, his heart racing, his chest tight. His mind was screaming for him to run, but his legs wouldn't move. His eyes were glued to the waves, where the shape had disappeared beneath the surface.

He had to leave. He had to go back inside.

But as he turned, he saw something. A figure standing near the restaurant's entrance—a figure dressed in the same tattered, threadbare clothes as the missing people. The ones who had disappeared in the past few months.

The figure smiled at him, its mouth twisted in an unnatural way. Its eyes were wide, unblinking, filled with an endless blackness. And in that moment, Xiaoyu understood. The figure wasn't human. It wasn't even alive.

Before he could turn and run, the figure lunged forward with surprising speed, its long, clawed hands reaching out to grab him. Xiaoyu let out a strangled cry, but the creature's grip tightened around his arm with a sickening crack. It dragged him toward the water, and the ground beneath his feet seemed to buckle as the earth itself began to shift.

He struggled, kicking and screaming, but it was no use. The creature's grip was unyielding, its pull stronger than anything he had ever felt. Xiaoyu's body was dragged into the cold, wet sea, his cries muffled by the waves that crashed violently around him.

As the water closed in, Xiaoyu caught a glimpse of the creature's true form, or at least what he could see of it in the darkness beneath the surface. It was monstrous, its body twisted and malformed, its limbs impossibly long and thin. Its skin was slick, like the scales of a fish, and its mouth stretched impossibly wide, revealing rows of teeth that glistened in the dim light.

The last thing Xiaoyu saw before the water swallowed him whole was the figure—the same figure that had once been human—staring down at him with cold, empty eyes. It didn't matter anymore. He had become part of the sea, part of the hunger that lurked beneath it.

The Fish-side Killer had claimed another victim.