Chapter 397 - 386: Going to the Beach for Some Fries

Chapter 397: Chapter 386: Going to the Beach for Some Fries

The V-formation cut through the sky, heading toward the distant coastline.

The massive bird at the head of the formation held its wings wide, gliding on the updrafts. Its golden eyes reflected the ocean and white-crested waves below as it replayed the brief conflict and the strange reaction of the two-legged beasts.

’The order to retreat was the right call.’

’The unknown means risk. Those yellow strips, with their overpowering aroma, must be a new kind of bait. The cunning of the two-legged beasts is etched into the memories of our bloodline, passed down through the generations.’

"Return to base! Men, shake your tailfeathers and keep pace!"

The leader’s long cry carried on the wind.

The flock behind him immediately adjusted its formation, following closely. Their companion with the injured wing was flanked by two escorts, keeping its flight steady. Leave no brother behind—that was the first ironclad rule he had established.

The cliffside nest soon came into view.

The gray-black cliff face was riddled with holes from the corrosive sea wind, and hundreds of white figures perched upon it. At the top of the cliff, shallow pits had been scraped out of the rock and lined with bits of dry grass and feathers. The Big Thief Gulls were accustomed to nests like these.

Crude but effective, with a wide field of view, easy to defend and difficult to attack—it was a perfect fortress.

The leader folded his wings, landing gracefully on a protruding rock at the highest point. It was his personal throne.

"Kovor! Report on the spoils!"

A Big Thief Gull, the feathers on its head grayer than those of its kin, landed at his side.

"Chief, we successfully seized three bags of white powder. Scent analysis indicates it’s ground plant seeds," Kovor said, preening his wing with his beak. "Additionally, three of our brothers got sand in their eyes during the operation and need to be cleaned. That kid Rick nearly broke discipline, but I’ve already given him a verbal warning."

"Good work, Warrant Officer!"

The leader nodded.

Chirps of triumph echoed up from the nesting area below. A few Big Thief Gulls had torn open the bag of flour, spilling the white powder all over the ground. They pecked at it excitedly, celebrating their victory in the "hunt."

But he, their leader, was haunted by another scent.

That strange aroma—a mix of oil, salt, and some kind of scorched plant—seemed to have a life of its own, burrowing into his mind and refusing to leave. He could even recall the exact path it had taken as it drifted through the air.

"Chief?" Kovor noticed his leader’s silence. "Is something wrong? Didn’t we already see through the two-legged beasts’ trap?"

The leader didn’t answer. He cast his gaze into the distance, toward the beach where the humans were working.

His golden eyes narrowed slightly.

「Night fell.」

The food stored in the nests was distributed. There was fishy, salty dead fish, crunchy sea crabs, and a few pieces of "aged, air-dried steak" torn from the carcass of a beached Sea Beast. This had been the diet of the Big Thief Gull flock for millennia, rich in everything they needed to survive.

But tonight, this food seemed to have lost its usual appeal.

A few young Big Thief Gulls poked at the fish bones in front of them, looking thoroughly uninterested.

"Is that it?" a newly adult Big Thief Gull grumbled.

"Shut your beak, rookie!" an elder beside him hissed. "You should be grateful to have food at all! Back in my day, we had to eat stranded jellyfish!"

The young Big Thief Gull pulled in his neck, but his gaze drifted involuntarily toward the horizon. The potent aroma from earlier, the golden-yellow strips... they flashed again and again in his mind. Compared to that smell, the fish in his mouth tasted as bland as wax.

His name was Rick, the very same "rookie" who had been stopped by the leader that day.

Agitation. An unprecedented restlessness was brewing inside him. He felt his stomach burning, not from hunger, but from a calling that came from the depths of his very soul.

’Yes, a calling.’

Suddenly, several cries of alarm came from the edge of the cliff.

"Alert! Alert! Level 2 threat detected!"

Rick’s head shot up. He crowded toward the cliff’s edge with the other young Big Thief Gulls.

There on the distant beach, the two-legged beasts had appeared again. They didn’t approach, merely leaving behind several large wooden platters before retreating quickly. Even from so far away, Rick felt as if he could smell it—that familiar, maddening aroma, riding wisps of the night breeze.

"All units, attention! It’s a trap! Maintain a safe distance!"

The elder Big Thief Gull on watch duty issued a warning, scattering the excited youngsters.

Rick returned to his shallow pit on the outskirts of the nesting area. His mate was shielding their fledgling chick with her wing. The young bird let out a feeble cry, clearly still hungry.

When they had set out from the distant southern beaches, none of them had anticipated such drastic changes to their northern home. Many of their old hunting grounds had vanished, replaced by swathes of low-lying green plants.

Rick paced back and forth, agitated.

’The chief’s order is absolute,’ he thought. ’Our ancestors’ diet has always been the same, and it never included long, yellow strips. For all we know, that stuff is poison.’ He understood all of this, of course.

’But... that smell...’

He was, after all, only a bird. After a moment of internal conflict, he made a decision that went against all ancestral wisdom.

He watched the patrol routes of the older birds. When one of them dozed off, he silently slipped off the cliff, skimmed low over the surface of the sea, and flew toward the beach.

His heart hammered in his chest.