Chapter Seventy-Nine: A Strange Encounter Beneath the Treacherous Reef (Part Two)

The diver in the black wetsuit, wearing a breathing mask, had a graceful figure—it was clearly a woman. Zhang Can glanced through with his special sight; when she turned her head downward, he could see that she was indeed a woman, though his vision only revealed black-and-white skeletal outlines, making it impossible to distinguish her facial features. He could only determine her gender, and her movements suggested she was deliberately avoiding the small fishing boat on the surface.

He looked again at the fishing boat above—a vessel of around ten meters, nothing out of the ordinary. There were five men aboard. One of them held a small device, gesturing and measuring, as if marking coordinates. While Zhang Can couldn’t hear their conversation, the man’s actions made it obvious he was recording a location.

Once the position was set, the man gave a wave, and the others tossed three large chests into the sea. The chests were heavy, bobbing and swaying in the water before sinking downward.

The woman in the water watched the direction in which the chests descended, holding a device of her own to pinpoint their location. Yet she could go no deeper—the pressure at such depths was too much for her equipment. Only more advanced gear would allow anyone to reach the true bottom here.

The men on the fishing boat brought out another device and began measuring again. To Zhang Can’s special sight, their bodies were merely skeletal silhouettes, but the device itself was clear—a display screen, resembling a handheld game console, or perhaps a large-screen mobile phone.

Three bright dots flashed on the display, obviously representing the three chests. Zhang Can immediately understood: electronic trackers had been placed inside. With all this secrecy, he couldn’t help but wonder—just what was hidden in those chests?

The three large chests drifted down, settling not far from Zhang Can—about seven or eight meters away, spaced four or five meters apart.

Zhang Can used his vision to peer inside. Two of the chests were packed with tightly sealed plastic bags, layered meticulously, with the tracking devices tucked into the corners of the lids. Inside the bags was a fine white powder, resembling flour.

Drugs.

There was no need to think further—Zhang Can knew exactly what these were. No one would go to such lengths, risking so much, just to dump bags of flour in these desolate, treacherous waters. Only drugs would warrant such effort.

The third chest was filled with portraits of Franklin—U.S. dollars.

A whole chest of cash, easily no less than five million dollars. Zhang Can’s heart raced—so much money, who wouldn’t be tempted?

Of course, the cash was all old bills, so there was nothing to worry about. It wasn’t as if he desperately needed money right now, but if he stole the chest and hid it away for a decade before spending any, who would ever find out?

Since the chests were dropped here, it was clear the smugglers felt safe. At this depth, even with diving equipment, few could reach these waters—only professionals with advanced gear could do so.

The men on the fishing boat, having recorded the coordinates and set the trackers, had nothing more to worry about. They started the engine and left.

About ten minutes after the boat departed, the female diver carefully measured the coordinates again. She could only mark the approximate location and would need to bring others later to search. For now, she could do nothing about the trackers inside the chests.

Once she finished, she turned and swam off toward the shore. Zhang Can noticed that the place she surfaced was at least sixty or seventy meters from where he had entered the water—far enough that there was no risk of her discovering his hidden clothes or his car, which was parked behind some large trees along the coastal road, out of view behind thick foliage.

He watched as she slipped quietly ashore, retrieved a bundle of clothes from behind the rocks, changed into casual attire, and stealthily crept into the woods. Anyone without Zhang Can’s penetrating vision would have lost sight of her.

Within the thicket, she wheeled out a concealed motorcycle and rode off toward the outskirts, away from the city. As long as she wasn’t headed into Jincheng, there was no risk of her noticing Zhang Can’s BMW.

Only after she’d disappeared did Zhang Can hurry over to the three chests. They weren’t secured with any special locks, just ordinary latches, and he opened them to find the drugs and cash all sealed and waterproofed. Ignoring the contents, he immediately removed the trackers, found a small stone, and smashed all three devices to pieces on the sea floor, then buried the fragments in the mud and rocks. Even if left unburied, without precise location data, nobody could find them here. But now, buried, it was even less likely.

The coordinates marked were only approximate. Large objects like the chests might be found, but the smashed, finger-sized trackers would be impossible to recover.

Zhang Can closed the chests again and began dragging them toward the shore. Fortunately, in the water, buoyancy reduced their weight by two-thirds—what would have been a hundred kilograms on land was much less in the sea, about seventy or eighty pounds. It was strenuous, but manageable.

He dragged the first chest to a spot twenty meters from where he’d entered the water, dug away the sand and stones, and buried it. Then he fetched the other two chests, buried them together, and ensured that nothing on the surface betrayed their presence. They were nearly three hundred meters from where the smugglers had dumped them—far enough, given the vastness of the sea, that the chests would never be found.

He knew he couldn’t haul the heavy chests ashore by himself. He’d need a helper for that, but unless he found someone absolutely trustworthy, he’d rather make several trips, opening the chests underwater and ferrying the cash to his car bit by bit. As long as he was the only one who knew, it was safest. As for the drugs, unless there was an opportunity or reason to turn them over to the police, he’d rather let them rot at the bottom of the sea—he’d never touch them. Money could be stolen, but not drugs.

Zhang Can chose to hide the drugs as well, not out of greed, but to prevent the traffickers from harming more people. He couldn’t do much, but at least he could keep their drugs from reaching anyone else, as long as he was careful and didn’t get caught.

But now, what worried him most wasn’t the traffickers, but the mysterious female diver. The smugglers had hidden their goods in such a remote place, convinced it was utterly safe, so they wouldn’t be back for a while. The real threat was the woman, who might return with reinforcements to retrieve the chests. Whoever she was—enemy of the traffickers or law enforcement—she was dangerous. If she was a rival trafficker or from the underworld, it would be a matter of thieves preying on thieves. If she was a cop, her actions weren’t Zhang Can’s concern. But either way, she’d likely bring others to recover the chests, so he needed to leave quickly and only return after some time to check.

He also had an advantage: to check on the chests, he wouldn’t need to dive in—just a glance from the shore with his special vision would tell him everything. He could drive by without stopping. Even if someone was watching, he’d never be suspected unless he stopped and got out, which he would never do unless he was certain it was safe. On such a busy road, not approaching the shore meant he wouldn’t be noticed.

After burying the chests, Zhang Can hurried ashore, retrieved his clothes from behind the rocks, dressed, and rushed up to the road. He got into his car, started the engine, and finally breathed a long sigh of relief. He took out the water-repelling pearl and slipped it into his pocket, all the while checking the rearview mirror to be sure he wasn’t being followed.

He was confident he hadn’t been discovered—he’d dived to depths others couldn’t reach, leaving no traces. Everything had happened underwater, with the sea above calm and untroubled.

Perhaps he’d watched too many spy movies, but Zhang Can was extremely cautious. He checked repeatedly for tails, made countless turns, and hid in secret alleyways to observe. From start to finish, he saw no sign of pursuit. Only then did he finally drive home.

Zhang Hua had already cooked dinner and was waiting. Zhang Can ate a few hurried bites and went to his room, where he examined the water-repelling pearl. It was a peculiar item; after using it once, its energy seemed to fuse more swiftly with his body. Each use left a small residue of energy within him, which, combined with the spiritual energy of the jade in his mind, made his special vision even stronger.

From this, Zhang Can deduced that the strength of his black-and-white vision was directly linked to the spiritual energy in his body. At first, he’d recovered only through rest and sleep, which was slow. The stronger his physical strength, the more potent his vision became.

He longed to strengthen his ability further—if he could, he’d probe even deeper into the ocean. Perhaps, one day, he’d buy a yacht and hunt for treasures at sea, for the ocean held far more undiscovered wonders than the land, and there was no fear of being caught. Treasures beneath the waves were unclaimed; if he found them, they’d be his. Of course, shipwrecks were subject to national law, but if he ever discovered a ship full of treasure, he wouldn’t keep it all—just a few of the most precious items would suffice. After all, who could ever spend all the wealth in the world?

Yet there remained the matter of the two chests of drugs and the chest of cash. How best to handle them required careful planning. If he’d simply witnessed the smugglers’ actions and felt no temptation, it would be one thing. But he’d already acted on his desire, stolen the chests, and from the moment he did, there was no going back.

And then there was the question: who was the female diver? What was her true identity?