Chapter 637: Is This Gotham University's Professor? (Part II) (Patreon)

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Arriving at the hotel, the trio originally intended to head straight to the beach and rent a boat to search for the isolated island.

The reason they didn't simply fly over was twofold. First, although Arthur was aware that someone was stranded on the island, he didn't know its exact location. Schools of fish couldn't convey such specific details.

Secondly, when flying high in the air, the distance from the ground makes it challenging to distinguish the correct island among the numerous nearby islands. When Arthur is in the air, without contact with the seawater, he can't listen to the messages from the ocean, making it less efficient than searching by boat.

Therefore, after landing in Coastal City, they prepared to set sail. Hal contacted an old friend and secured a decent boat. However, when he returned with this news, he also brought a disheartening update: he might not be able to join the rescue mission to the island.

"The friend I contacted is my cousin," Hal explained with a complex expression. "I hoped he wouldn't inform my parents about my return, but they found out and want me to come home." He sighed, revealing that a family matter had caused his earlier departure from Coastal City.

"My parents think being a test pilot is too dangerous," Hal admitted, taking a deep breath. "They pressured me to change jobs. I had no choice, given their intense concern."

"I've always been the black sheep in the family," Hal continued. "My cousins chose stable local professions in Coastal City. When they heard I wanted to be a pilot, fearing I might be sent to Washington or even to war, they strongly disapproved."

In the hotel room, Hal lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. "My mother cried several times, and I had many arguments with my father. I eventually compromised because I know they love me and don't want me to risk my life."

Leaning against the bed, Arthur shared, "My father felt the same. He believed fishing at sea was perilous and poorly paid. He even suggested I move to a big city like Kansas to be a farmer."

Arthur's voice laced with nostalgia caught Hal's attention. "Being a lighthouse keeper, my father had witnessed numerous tragedies at sea. He didn't want me to suffer a similar fate."

"Will you persevere?" Hal asked.

"I don't know," Arthur admitted. "Professor Shiller initially suggested I attend university. I wasn't against studying, but I didn't want to move to a big city. There's so much I don't understand there."

Schiller observed Arthur, noting the similarities between him and another young man, Clark. Both hailed from small towns, exuding a genuine, albeit sometimes naive, simplicity. Clark, however, was full of passion and determination to adapt to his life at Metropolis University. In contrast, perhaps due to his father's gentle nature, Arthur appeared more content with his circumstances.

"There's nothing wrong with that, Arthur," Schiller commented. "Not everyone can live in big cities or pursue elite professions. There's always a need for fishermen and lighthouse keepers."

"God has given you unique gifts, perhaps meant for these professions. To help those fishermen potentially caught in storms," Schiller reasoned, resonating with Arthur's sentiments. "The fish in the sea inform me about the weather and alert me when sailors are in distress. I can then rescue them," Arthur responded.

Both Arthur and Hal, despite their differing paths, faced familial pressure to choose safer careers. While Arthur's father was more understanding, Hal's parents exerted immense pressure on him to conform to their wishes.

"I can't convince my parents, so I'm a bit afraid to face them now," Hal confessed, eyes downcast. "I know the neighbors probably gossip about them having a son who never comes home, which is rare here."

"People in Coastal City take immense pride in their city. They believe it's the best place in the world, so few move away. I might be the only odd one out."

"No, Hal, you must return," Schiller advised, unusually decisive. "I believe this visit might bring a different outcome."

Confused but trusting Schiller's judgment, Hal finally decided, "I'm sorry I can't join the rescue mission. But I trust saving a person isn't beyond your capabilities."

"If you return, call my home. Pilot Hal is always ready," he remarked with a pilot's signature gesture before departing. Schiller watched him go, shaking his head thoughtfully.

"We shouldn't delay. Let's set out," Schiller suggested, standing up. "You mentioned you could determine the island's direction at sea. I hope you weren't exaggerating. Otherwise, we might not find it."

"It's not me, but the schools of fish that will guide us," Arthur clarified as they left the room. "If I recall correctly, all the fish nearby know about this. They'll lead the way."

Exiting the hotel, they hailed a cab to the pier. Upon arrival, they spotted a mid-sized fishing boat, significantly larger and newer than Arthur's previous vessel.

A middle-aged man approached enthusiastically and shook hands with Schiller. He patted Arthur on the shoulder and said, "I can tell you're a Fisherman, and a very good one at that. Hal is my nephew. I've chosen quite a fine boat for you; it's only been in the water for less than two months."

Arthur walked over to the fishing boat, looking up and admiringly remarked, "It's truly impressive. I've read about this boat in a fishing magazine. Its speed and endurance are commendable, not to mention its large ice storage I so admire. Sadly, it's just too expensive for me to afford."

The middle-aged man led them aboard, stating, "It's inevitable, the price for new models always increases. Once a newer model is released, perhaps the price will drop. Anyway, enjoy and I hope you have a bountiful harvest."

Schiller shook hands with him, laughing. After Hal's uncle left, Schiller commented, "It seems Hal really is a good person if his uncle is willing to lend us such a great boat."

Arthur nodded in agreement, running his hand over the boat's railing, "This is truly a gem. You can't find boats of this quality in Brooklyn."

Upon entering the cabin, Arthur's praises flowed endlessly. He used technical terms that Schiller couldn't understand, but it was evident that Arthur was a boat enthusiast with a particular fondness and understanding for fishing boats. He could speak about every small component, even the type of paint used, with great detail. Schiller inquired, "Where did you learn all this?"

"In Brooklyn, fishing magazines are all the rage. Whether they're issued by the official marine bureau, various industry groups, or even the Canadian fishing magazines, you can get them all in Brooklyn."

"Actually, my favorite is the magazine published by the Canadian Marine and Fisheries Bureau. They focus on practical information, especially weather and water conditions useful to fishermen, unlike U.S. magazines that are constantly comparing the size of the fish caught or promoting fishing tournaments."

Upon reaching the cockpit, Arthur felt right at home. Although he had never operated such a boat, he had seen its interior countless times in magazines. Without even needing a manual, he already understood the function of every button.

He began to steer the boat away from the pier, turning to Schiller, "I noticed there seem to be fishing rods in the tool box in the back room. You could try fishing; perhaps you'll have better luck than you did in Brooklyn."

Schiller laughed, "How could it be worse than Brooklyn? Back then, I didn't catch a single fish."

Half an hour later, Schiller realized he had celebrated too early. Not only did he not catch any fish, but he also broke the fishing rod, proving his luck was even worse than when he was in Brooklyn.

He realized he might not have a good relationship with the sea. He neither liked eating fish, nor was good at fishing, and always felt a bit seasick.

Before seeing the vast sea, he had imagined himself as a free fish swimming amidst the waves, even creating a persona for himself with a mermaid's tail. However, now it seemed that persona was better off staying in the 'Temple of Thought's' pool. Perhaps, the vast sea wasn't for him.

Two hours later, Schiller felt his optimism had been misplaced as seasickness took over. He entered the cockpit, took a deep breath, and asked Arthur, "Haven't found them yet? Are you sure the school of fish leading you aren't directionally challenged?"

Frowning, Arthur glanced at the Fish Finder Radar, "Things aren't going as expected. Fish can only provide vague directions. They mentioned the West Coast, but it doesn't seem to be the U.S. West Coast..."

"Then where?"

"Possibly closer to Mexico. We seem to be heading towards the equator, perhaps near the Panama Canal. There are several islands around there too."

"But I'm getting really seasick," said Schiller, leaning against the door frame.

Arthur looked back at him sympathetically, "It's normal for those who've never been to sea. The first long stretch on the water can be rough. Just hang in there; we should arrive soon."

After stepping outside, Schiller asked Grey Mist in his thoughts, "Why can't you adjust for the seasickness?"

"It's not physiological seasickness," Grey Mist replied somewhat defensively. "The body is fine; the stomach's reactions are psychological. Every time I try to relax the stomach, it cramps up again within seconds."

"Psychological effect..." Schiller leaned against the railing, closing his eyes, attempting to enter the 'Temple of Thought'. Just as he began to focus, he was jolted awake by a voice from within, "You're not allowed in."

"Why not?"

"I'm on vacation."

"You take vacations?"

"Why shouldn't I? Am I not allowed, but you are?"

Schiller fell silent before asking, "How long do you plan on vacationing?"

"36 days."

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 638: Is This the Professor from Gotham University? (Part 2)