A sudden commotion broke out aboard a Western Oceanic research vessel.
Leahy was seated at her desk, finishing a field report. She had just signed her name at the bottom when the cabin door was flung open from the outside. A researcher in uniform stood in the doorway, shouting excitedly into the room, "We've captured a mermaid!"
Leahy's heart jolted. Her pen slipped, dragging the final stroke of the character qing into a long, crooked line. She spun around, astonished. "Really? An actual mermaid?"
"Yes—an authentic mermaid," the man replied, barely able to contain himself. "And she's female. A real, genuine mermaid."
About five years earlier, a blurry photograph had circulated among the public. Taken along a remote coastline, it showed a dark silhouette in the distance—a humanoid figure with a long tail. In the years that followed, more images surfaced, all claiming to depict mermaids. The most recent evidence appeared two months ago: a video filmed at close range by an ocean-going vessel passing through the Echo region of the Western Oceanic Zone.
In that nearly untraveled stretch of sea, a mermaid had surfaced at a distance, quietly observing the ship.
At first, the crew thought someone had fallen overboard. But closer inspection revealed none of the panic typical of a drowning person. As the figure departed, it even flicked its long tail through the water. The footage prompted an immediate response—authorities organized a scientific expedition to investigate the Echo region.
After two months at sea, the research team finally succeeded in capturing a creature that had previously existed only in legend: a mermaid.
Leahy hastily pulled on her researcher's uniform and followed her colleagues into the corridor. Along with others emerging from nearby cabins, she made her way toward the large tank specially prepared for the mermaid.
When the hatch opened, she saw a dense crowd gathered around a crude yet enormous water tank.
Nearly everyone on board had assembled there, turning the once-spacious research lab into a stifling crush. After considerable effort, Leahy squeezed her way to the front. She spotted her senior colleague, Torin, standing above the tank, directing others as they poured something into the water.
Torin noticed Leahy and lifted an eyebrow slightly. "Shu Qing, you're here?"
"Senior," Leahy greeted her briefly, climbing up onto the platform. Leaning over the tank, she peered inside and saw a vaguely humanoid figure submerged in the depths, curled tightly around itself, a long tail trailing behind.
The tank was made of iron and extremely basic, equipped with only the most rudimentary oxygen system. Inside the dark enclosure, only two or three lamps cast dim light. Leahy could barely make out the details underwater. She couldn't help asking, "Is that the mermaid?"
"Yes." Torin signed off on her notes and turned back to her. "She's badly frightened and needs time to calm down. Let's clear the room—too many people will only agitate her."
Leahy nodded and took the initiative, directing all non-research staff to leave.
"Shu Qing."
Just as Leahy escorted the last unrelated person out of the lab, Torin approached her from behind and stopped two steps away. With a faintly amused lift of her brow, she said, "Now that we're alone, would you like to take a closer look at the female mermaid?"
Leahy's eyes lit up. "Of course."
They climbed onto the platform beside the tank. It measured over ten square meters in area and more than two meters deep. Due to the lack of proper equipment, the platform itself was nothing more than steel plates hastily assembled for the researchers' use.
"Group Leader Xu," said a blond, blue-eyed foreign student, stepping aside as Torin and Leahy approached. In an excited, accented voice, he added, "The mermaid just moved. We were thinking of feeding her—maybe she'll sense our goodwill."
Torin nodded and turned to Leahy. "What do you think?"
"I think it's a good idea," Leahy replied. She didn't even ask what they planned to feed the mermaid. Rolling up her sleeves, she leaned over the edge of the platform and stared into the murky water, where she could just make out a shadowy figure.
It was curled into a corner, its long tail drooping weakly to one side. Something—hair, perhaps, or seaweed—floated above its head, drifting gently with the flow of oxygen bubbles.
What did a mermaid really look like?
Leahy had spent the entire previous day shut in her cabin writing reports and hadn't had a chance to review the photos or data from the capture. Now, gazing at the blurred outline below, her eyes shone with anticipation, as if she could see straight through the water and meet the creature's gaze.
In the haze, she thought the figure slowly lifted its head, seeming to look back at her.
Surprised and quietly delighted, Leahy extended her hand to touch the surface of the water. The icy seawater sent a shiver up her arm, raising goosebumps. The mermaid seemed to notice the movement and drifted slightly upward.
"I'd advise you not to do that."
Torin stood beside her, black rubber boots planted firmly on the raised anti-slip mat of the platform. Looking down at Leahy, she warned, "You may not have seen her before, but mermaids aren't the delicate beauties from movies. They're highly dangerous. An adult mermaid's bite force rivals that of lions or tigers. If you'd like to keep your hand, don't put it in the water."
Startled, Leahy quickly withdrew her arm and straightened up. "Senior, don't scare me like that."
Torin laughed, her black ponytail swaying lightly. Leahy found herself glancing at her again.
Torin was two years ahead of her academically, yet she was already the leader of this expedition. Once they set sail, everything fell under her command. Leahy, by contrast, disliked managing people; she preferred experiments and reports to tangled social dynamics.
Noticing the dark circles beneath Torin's eyes, Leahy guessed she hadn't slept properly in days.
"The expedition's already a success," Leahy said gently. "You don't need to keep staying up all night. I can take over the mermaid arrangements—why don't you go rest for a bit?"
Torin studied her for a moment, then nodded. "All right. You're in charge from here. Wake me in three hours."
"No problem," Leahy replied.
After Torin left, the prepared food arrived: an entire bucket of small, silvery fish, each about the length of a finger—an ideal size for the mermaid to eat.
"She doesn't seem to like dead fish," Leahy remarked as she pulled on rubber gloves and picked up a lively one. "This looks familiar. Don't tell me it came from the kitchen?"
"Yes, Dr. Zhao," a female researcher said with a smile. "It's the same fish we use for fried anchovies."
Leahy raised an eyebrow, leaned back over the platform, and dangled the fish above the water. Addressing the shadow below, she said lightly, "Miss Mermaid, look what we've prepared for you. Would you like to come up and try it?"
The figure in the darkness shifted. She had clearly noticed the fish, but hesitated.
As soon as the fish touched the water, it began to thrash. With the dulled sensation of the gloves, Leahy lost her grip, and it slipped free, darting away.
The fish swam straight toward the shadow. Before Leahy could react, the mermaid's hand shot out, seized it, and devoured it in the blink of an eye.
Leahy saw it clearly. Though it lasted only a fraction of a second, she caught the movement.
It seemed the mermaid was truly hungry.
Her eyes brightened. Leahy grabbed another fish and used it to lure the mermaid closer. After a moment's hesitation, the mermaid straightened and slowly swam up from the bottom of the tank toward Leahy's hand.
With a splash, a head broke the surface.
At a single glance, Leahy was utterly captivated.
The mermaid had long, pale-violet hair, now wet and clinging to her shoulders. Her skin was astonishingly white, as though she rarely saw sunlight, so pale that faint blue veins were visible beneath it.
Most striking of all were her eyes—blue as the open sea, glistening as they looked up at Leahy, like sapphires lost to the ocean.
"My God… she's beautiful."
An awed murmur rippled through the researchers behind her. Leahy herself was transfixed by the mermaid's exquisitely delicate features.
She was impossibly beautiful—more so than any famous actress—so ethereal she hardly seemed like a creature of this world.
The mermaid focused on Leahy—or rather, on the fish in her hand—and swam closer. Extending a pale arm from the water, she snatched the fish and vanished again in a spray of water.
Watching the ripples subside, Leahy laughed softly and retrieved another fish. This time, the mermaid was less afraid. Seeing more food, she swam up again, took it, and stuffed it into her mouth.
She must have been starving. Only after eating two fish did she slow down. Her sea-blue eyes watched Leahy warily, long wet lashes fluttering, curiosity shining through.
In truth, Leahy was just as curious about her.
"Hi, Miss Mermaid," Leahy said, half-squatting by the platform, one hand resting on her knee. "We don't mean you any harm. We just want to study your way of life. My team and I will ensure your safety and won't force you to do anything against your will."
The mermaid couldn't understand her words, remaining dazed and confused, yet her wariness seemed to ease.
Leahy's gaze drifted to the mermaid's pale chest. Thankfully, her thick hair concealed most of her full, rounded breasts—but Leahy still found herself stealing a glance or two.
Below her slender waist extended a blue tail, long enough that Leahy estimated her total length at over two meters. Were it not for that tail, she might easily have been mistaken for a human woman.
Leahy studied her from head to tail, curiosity stirring.
If her upper body was so human… then what about the rest of her?