Landlord in the Arctic

Feng Shan looked toward the sound and saw a group of crew members gathered around a cargo plane, unloading it.

Judging by their strained movements, the cargo must have been heavy.

Picking up on Alvin’s comment about breaking legs, a teasing voice piped up from the crew.

"Good God, break my leg? Captain, are you trying to turn everyone on the River Beach into a bunch of cripples? How about we just rename her the ’Cripple’?"

Alvin didn’t get angry. Instead, he swore with a laugh, "Bullshit. Anyone else calls someone a cripple, and next year I’ll make them chief engineer in the engine room, slathering grease on the equipment all day."

This was the kind of relationship the crew of a crabbing boat shared—harmonious and easygoing.

At sea, the captain’s word was law. He was the undisputed boss, and everyone had to follow his orders.

But on land, they were all brothers. A few curses traded back and forth, or even the occasional scuffle, was no big deal.

The moment they stepped back on the boat, however, they had to follow the captain’s orders without question.

The chief engineer on a crabbing boat, however, had arguably the toughest job on board, aside from the deckhands.

During a catch, the chief engineer was almost constantly stuck working in the cramped, noisy engine room—a hot, stuffy, and deafening environment.

If a piece of equipment failed, the chief engineer had to jump into repair work immediately, day or night, on break or not.

On top of that, the chief engineer was also responsible for the heavy burden of routine equipment maintenance.

They were like the ship’s doctors, performing regular check-ups on the machinery, meticulously tending to every part to ensure it all ran in peak condition.

You could say it didn’t matter if a deckhand started out green. After a few trips, they’d naturally gain the experience they needed.

But the chief engineer was a different story entirely. A good chief engineer was a crabbing boat’s guardian angel, the one who kept everything running.

But no one wanted to be the chief engineer.

Hearing the captain’s "vicious" threat of revenge, the crew erupted in laughter.

Just then, the same voice piped up again.

"Alright, alright! I, Clyde, shouldn’t have bad-mouthed the captain. I was wrong!"

Right after, another voice shouted, "Bullshit, Captain! That wasn’t me, that was Sam, the First Mate! He’s trying to frame me!"

Alvin laughed and replied, "Clyde, as of right now, you’re the First Mate. We’ll let Sam be the chief engineer."

The crew erupted in another roar of laughter at that.

Still laughing, the crew carried something heavy over to Feng Shan.

As they approached, Feng Shan saw what they were carrying: two hard-shelled fish crates.

They were a common sight on Saint Paul Island, typically used for holding fish or crabs.

But these two were unusually large, each over a meter long.

Feng Shan couldn’t help but wonder.

’What on earth could be in them that was worth shipping all the way from Saint Paul Island to Crown Territory?’

"Boss, this is a gift from all of us," one of the crewmen said, a mysterious smile on his face. "You should be the one to open it."

"What is it?" Filled with curiosity, Feng Shan stepped forward and opened the first crate.

As he lifted the lid, a loud SPLASH erupted from within. Something alive was thrashing around inside, causing quite a commotion.

Feng Shan took a flashlight from a nearby crewman and shone it into the crate.

The water inside was churning violently. The beam cut through the water, revealing the faint, dazzling glint of a golden shadow.

"What is this?"

"A Golden Flounder," Alvin announced proudly, his arm draped around a blonde companion as he spoke with great animation. "The rarest fish in the Bering Sea. It’s worth ten times a regular flounder, and it took us a lot of time to find it."

"Don’t listen to the captain’s bullshit, Boss," a crewman chimed in, mercilessly puncturing Alvin’s story. "I bought that Golden Flounder from my cousin for a high price. Another buyer almost snatched it up."

Alvin’s face fell, and he couldn’t stop himself from swearing, "Fuck! Wasn’t it my money that paid for it? You traitorous chief engineer, selling out your own captain."

"Alright, alright," Feng Shan cut in, knowing they were just joking around.

He then turned and opened the second crate.

There wasn’t much water in this one, but it held an enormous red crab.

With the lid off, its massive, spiky claws were exposed. They were nearly a meter long.

"What kind of crab is this? I’ve never seen one before. It’s huge! It must weigh at least ten pounds!"

Feng Shan said in astonishment, his eyes glued to the peculiar crab.

’I’ve seen snow crabs and Emperor Crabs before, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen a big red one like this.’

Seeing his reaction, Alvin quickly explained, "Boss, that’s a Red King Crab, also known as a Kamchatka Rock Crab. We ran into one of Old Ivan’s crabbing boats out at sea and traded three cases of Arctic Vodka for it."

Here, "Ivan" is a common Russian name that Americans sometimes use as a casual, somewhat teasing shorthand for Russians in general.

After all, Russia and Alaska are geographical neighbors, and Alaska itself was Russian territory for a long time.

As a result, Alaska has a significant population of Russian descent, and local Alaskans often refer to them colloquially as "Ivans."

Furthermore, with the United States and Russia sharing the Bering Sea, fishing vessels from both nations frequently cross paths.

Whenever they meet, they each bring out the best goods from their ships to engage in the most traditional form of barter.