Transmigrated into Conan, his ability is Rhodes Island

Akihara yawned, deciding to make his presence known. Maintaining this memory reading was a burden on his mind; why didn't you start from the creation of the world by Pangu?

The man dragged the corpse toward the edge of the cliff, perhaps intending to let it float downstream into the sea, or to throw it off the cliff to make it look like he had accidentally fallen and hit his head on the ground... Based on his experience, Yamamoto Kazuo speculated that he had untied the leather buckle binding the dagger, took the dagger in his hand, and walked up.

The man with his back to him suddenly felt a chill on his neck, and Yamamoto Kazuo's deep voice sounded behind him.

"Good evening, sir. Would you be interested in telling me what that octopus-like monster actually is?"

The man was terrified, his hair standing on end, but he forced a smile, trying to appear nonchalant. "It's you... I knew something was off about you guys. Most fishermen have tanned skin and muscular forearms, but you guys look like a bunch of city folk... I was curious at the time, but I just assumed you were newbies going out to sea for the first time..."

Kazuo Yamamoto pressed the dagger down further. "Answer my question."

"So it seems you've caught one of those monsters," the man said confidently. "They're very docile, slow-moving, and can survive out of water for a day or two... I went to the Longevity Granny and got some ancient books from the island. They record that this creature might be called a Child of the Sea."

"And then what? Is this creature very rare?"

"do not know."

"You didn't know? You didn't know you would kill two people just to take it all for yourself?"

"Hey, you can't just say things like that. I didn't kill Guangteng. Everything I just said is true." The man put down the corpse he was dragging and raised his hands to swear to the heavens. "Hey, do you have any of those monsters on your ship? Sell them to me, I have ways to sell them."

Yamamoto Kazuo didn't believe a single word the man said. He silently increased the pressure, and the dagger sliced ​​through the man's neck.

"Hey! Hey! Watch out!" the man cried out, but dared not move an inch, afraid of running into the blade. "I'll talk, I'll talk! If you mash up the flesh of this creature and apply it to a wound, it will speed up the healing process!"

Kazuo Yamamoto then withdrew his strength with some skepticism. The man promised to demonstrate the effects of the monster meat when they got home later, but for now, they needed to dispose of the corpse.

The two disposed of the body and left in a hurry. The next scene showed them returning to the man's house, where the man took some minced meat and applied it to the wound that Yamamoto Kazuo had just cut, and the wound healed quickly.

Seeing this, Yamamoto Kazuo asked to join the man's so-called business. The man was responsible for catching monsters in the nearby sea, and he would find people to process them and find sales channels to sell them. In the end, the profits would be split 30/70, and he would be the one with the 70%.

The man first looked at Yamamoto Kazuo's face, then looked down at the gleaming dagger in his hand, and reluctantly agreed. Before leaving, Yamamoto Kazuo took the page from the ancient book, and finally glanced around the man's house, noticing a white-haired deity he had never seen before enshrined behind the man's altar.

He casually asked, "Who is this?"

The man was still upset about the money he had lost and wasn't in the mood for anything else. He casually said, "When I was looking for ancient books, a few pages after this one, there was a picture of this woman. They said she was some kind of goddess who led the battles of marine life. I thought she looked beautiful, and I remembered the legends and taboos about mermaids from my ancestors, so I had someone draw her picture and hang it on the wall to worship, just for peace of mind..."

Kazuo Yamamoto nodded and walked out of the man's house. The instant he stepped out the door, a surging, silvery mist engulfed his body. That was the end of that memory.

As the scene before him gradually faded, Akihara quickly pieced together the information revealed by this memory.

1. The ancient book is not a forgery; Hai Si's appearance may have been much earlier than his time travel.

2. The process of the Hyrule assimilating humans in this world is significantly slower. This could be primarily because, just as pure-blooded humans are immune to Oripathy, the Hyrule assimilation process might be slower than that of Terran humans. Another possibility is that the Hyrule here are noticeably less aggressive and less vigorous. Is this because the Hyrule population hasn't evolved to the level of those on Terra, or is there another reason?

3. Currently, Hai Si can only be found on Mermaid Island and its surrounding areas.

It seems I have no choice but to make a trip to Mermaid Island.

The silvery river gradually returned to reality. The memory that had just occurred felt like several hours on Akihara's side, but in reality, it was only a fleeting moment. Time began to flow again.

Black magic flowed from the shadows of Akihara's sleeves as he continued walking forward.

"Stop! Don't move!" a member of the Kawasaki gang shouted nervously, but accidentally pulled the trigger. A bullet whistled out of the muzzle and headed straight for Akihara.

Akihara didn't even glance at the other party. The bullet was bound by black magic the moment it got close to him and then vanished on the spot.

Originally, this group of people all knew that firing a gun indoors could easily result in friendly fire, but after the first person fired, they threw this rule to the back of their minds.

"Bang bang bang bang—" Gunshots rang out incessantly, muzzle flashes flickered everywhere, all aimed at Akihara Kazuhiro.

The black magic on Qiuyuan's side materialized, climbing up Qiuyuan's right arm, from the wrist to the elbow, and finally to the shoulder blade. Wherever it passed, sharp black crystals grew, with a faint blue light flowing around them, like the arm guards of a medieval knight.

Another stream flowed down his fingertips, solidifying inch by inch into a long, sharp black sword, its edges seemingly flickering with fire. The Sarkaz spirits' unwilling roars echoed in his ears, the flames trembling with their cries, their self-mocking orange turning a cyan. The cyan flames burned ever brighter, sliding down the black blade.

Yingxiao drew his sword.

The bullets that flew toward him were either burned away by the blue flames or struck Yingxiao's sword blade, clattering and scattering toward the surrounding gang members.

Some people fell, some were shot, and the hall was thrown into chaos, filled with vicious curses and painful groans.

Amuro Tooru had already blended into the crowd and approached the front door. His view was obstructed, so he didn't see what was happening on Akihara's side; he only knew that shots had been fired. He carefully examined every face, closely observing everyone's every move. A fat man took advantage of the chaos to pick up a cup and drink. He didn't believe a word the young man who had rushed out had said; he planned to drink this cup and then make his escape.

Amuro Tooru rushed forward, swiftly tapping the fat man on the back of the neck. The fat man's vision blurred, he lost his grip on his wine glass, and swayed forward. Amuro Tooru feigned surprise and caught the fat man.

"Oh dear, are you drunk, sir?"

So the people who had been glancing at him turned their heads back. The gunshot from the diagonal front drew their attention even more. Who would care about a drunk fat man?

However, he wasn't the only one determined to drink the wine. A scarred man picked up the glass, downed it in one gulp, and then tried to slip away through the front door. Amuro Tooru, seeing this, turned on his earpiece.

"Scotland, towards the main entrance, dressed in black, bald with a scarred face."

"Received," Morifushi Kagemitsu replied briefly.

On the rooftop of the abandoned factory building, Morofushi Kagemitsu had been lying prone for nearly an hour. He stretched his stiff arms and looked back at the scope. His breathing slowed, and his eyes turned cold and sharp at that moment.

Then the target appeared, aligning with the crosshairs. He pulled the trigger; the recoil made the gun in his hand tremble, but his eyes never left the scope.

"Bang—" A cloud of blood exploded from the scarred man's shoulder, and one arm dangled precariously, held together only by remnants of muscle. He passed out before he could even scream.

Seeing this, Morofushi Kagemitsu shifted his gaze from the fallen man and refocused it on the main entrance, patiently waiting for his next target.