Armed to the Teeth

Eddie purchased five handguns. The cheapest was the USP at 500 Canadian dollars, and the most expensive was the Desert Eagle, priced at 2,100 CAD. Along with a Type 92, Glock 43, and an M1911A1, plus 500 rounds of ammunition, the total came to 6,000 CAD.

The AR-15 itself wasn't expensive—only 2,000 CAD—but Eddie added a scope, laser sight, and flashlight. Including 500 rounds of ammo, the final cost was 3,500 CAD.

He also bought two shotguns, which were relatively cheap. With ammunition included, the total for both was just 3,600 CAD.

Altogether, this full set cost Eddie 12,500 CAD.

He swiped his card without hesitation.

Just as he was about to take everything home to enjoy, Nelson called out to him, sounding a little embarrassed."Eddie, does your fishery still need people?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you're short-staffed, I'd like to throw my hat in the ring. I served six years in Canada's Emergency Special Forces, four of which as a sniper. I can handle security for your fishery. Plus, I come from a fishing family—I know my way around the trade." Nelson eagerly pitched himself.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "What about your gun shop?"

He figured the shop must be profitable—he alone had just spent over ten grand.

Nelson chuckled, "You've got it wrong, Eddie. The shop's not mine—it's government-owned. I'm just an employee."

Eddie put the gun down, intrigued. "Why the career change?"

"Wages here are low, and there's barely any business. You might not believe it, but you're only my second customer this April. The first guy just bought 50 rounds of ammo."

Eddie gave it some thought. Nelson had a solid build and carried himself with politeness and confidence—a decent guy.

His fishery was slowly starting operations, and one guy like Shark wasn't enough. Bringing in another seemed like a good move.

"Alright," Eddie said. "There's a three-month trial period. After that, it's 1,600 a week. During probation, it's 80%. Quarterly bonuses apply."

Nelson eagerly nodded. "Absolutely no problem. I'll just need to hand in my resignation and I can start right away. Is that okay?"

"OK."

Nelson clearly couldn't wait. The very next day, he roared into the fishery on a souped-up Harley.

Eddie was surprised he'd quit so fast. Nelson explained, "They haven't approved my resignation yet. But the shop's closed—no business at all—so I can start early."

"Boss, what do you need me to do?" Nelson asked expectantly.

Eddie handed him the newly purchased AR-15. "First, convert this to a fully automatic rifle."

Nelson and Shark knew each other, and the two quickly hit it off.

True to his credentials as a former elite sniper, Nelson took just over half an hour to convert the AR-15 to full-auto.

Eddie, in high spirits, donned his hunting gear. A USP on his left hip, the Desert Eagle on his right, AR-15 slung over his shoulder—he set off into the woods for some good old-fashioned hunting.

Squirrel Xiaoming followed beside him. Eddie had stuck a tiny straw hat on its head using a maple leaf—it strutted around like a cocky soldier from a B-movie.

Interestingly, when Eddie returned to the little waterfall, the bear cub suddenly appeared again, squatting by the pool, dumbly staring at him like a puppy waiting to be fed.

The cub was still too young—it couldn't hunt or fend for itself. If Eddie hadn't enhanced it with Poseidon's energy earlier, it would've starved to death by now.

He fed it two fish, then headed back to the fishery, where he saw Shark and Nelson drying fishing nets.

Not wanting to slack off, Eddie joined them.

Shark launched the fishing boat and dragged the new nets into the ocean behind it. Eddie asked what he was doing. Shark explained this was called "water-curing"—exposing the nets to local sea salt and temperature to improve flexibility.

As the boat sailed out, Shark occasionally tossed old, discarded nets into the water.

Eddie still didn't get it, but Riddick jumped in to explain:"Those old nets won't sink. They float, and algae will grow on them over time. That attracts shellfish and fish to settle in the area."

After cruising the water for a while, Eddie returned to start purchasing fish fry.

"We'll need to buy them in batches. Start with cod. They're the most cold-resistant and adaptable," Shark suggested.

"How many?"

"I'd say start with two million," Shark replied. "Test the waters first. If things go well, we'll scale up—get squid hatchlings, then ten million cod and herring. That'll give us the backbone of the fishery."

"I get cod and herring—but why squid?" Eddie was confused.

Riddick grinned. "Boss, cod are carnivorous. Once they're a bit bigger, they don't eat feed. They eat soft-bodied marine larvae—like squid babies."

It was a major operation. Eddie needed to head back to St. John's. Shark hired a few seasoned fishermen from town to help select fry—400 CAD daily wage.

Eddie realized buying the Cadillac One Presidential edition was a mistake. It was too bulky for the island roads and needed to be ferried every time he left G'bye Island.

Nelson laughed when he saw it. "Wow! That's a beauty. But it's not exactly fishery-friendly. If you ask me, Boss, why didn't you just buy a Land Rover?"

Eddie sighed. "Land Rovers are ugly."

What could Nelson say? The man was rich—he could do whatever he wanted.

When Nelson found out Eddie didn't have a license yet, he offered, "Not to brag, but I'm qualified to be your instructor. You don't need to take driving lessons in St. John's—just sign up for the exam when you're ready."

Eddie happily accepted. He hadn't paid the driving school yet anyway.

St. John's had the most developed fishery industry in Newfoundland. Most farms used nets to partition off coastal zones and raise fry.

When the fish matured, the nets would be lifted—like in a BE-style free-range fishery. Typically, fry were purchased, raised in netted areas for about 20 days, then the nets were opened.

A novice might wonder: won't the fish just swim away in the open sea?

Not quite. Once fry adapt to the salt, temperature, and environment of the farm zone, they tend not to stray too far.

Also, during netted rearing, they're fed with prepared food. This feeding habit persists, so regularly broadcasting feed into the area helps keep them nearby.

Once ashore, Eddie called a fish farm contact he'd found online and went to inspect their fry.

Shark and the fishermen scooped up batches of fry from the sea to inspect. Each time, Shark called Eddie over to teach him how to identify quality fish.

After a few scoops, Shark's expression darkened. He motioned Eddie to leave.

The owner rushed to stop them. "What's wrong?"

Shark sneered. "Buddy, we're old-timers. Decades at sea. Don't think you can fool us with fakes and expect us to laugh it off."

Nelson whispered to Eddie, "Those bastards. The fry they scooped weren't real Atlantic cod. They were silver cod, Pacific cod, grenadiers, oilfish, and the like. They may look similar, being from the same Sebastidae family, but they're not the same species."

"Especially oilfish—they're not even suitable for farming. They contain wax esters humans can't digest. Some people get diarrhea or stomach cramps from eating them. They're low-value fish, mainly used for industrial lubricant extraction."

The owner looked at Eddie, trying to justify, "How was I supposed to know what kind of cod you wanted? You just said 'cod'—these are cod too! So don't blame me."

Then he made a hand signal, and several workers gathered, surrounding them menacingly.