Clang.
The iron gate swung open.
Titan peeked his snout out, sniffed the air, and let out a soft, reptilian chuckle.
He was finally starting to understand the basic mechanics of how a door worked.
He clambered out of his enclosure and looked around at the zoo grounds.
It was all starting to look very familiar.
Old Larry had taken them all to the veterinary clinic, which essentially doubled as a secondary home base—it was the only place on the property where Larry could properly host guests.
“Hoot.”
The eagle-owl, clearly not used to the harsh glare of the midday sun, looked visibly uncomfortable.
She shifted her weight on Titan’s back and let out a soft cry, signaling him to be careful of the light.
“Rumble.”
Titan didn’t fully understand the nuance of the hoot, but he grasped the general intent.
He looked up at the unlatched gate behind him and sighed to himself.
The owl was getting disturbingly good at picking locks.
“Director Larry, do you still have the original lab report?”
“Oh, absolutely.
I’ve kept it right here.”
It sounded like Mr.
Qiu was chatting with Old Larry.
It was honestly strange how clearly Titan could hear them from the clinic, considering how far away the ticket office actually was.
Titan’s scaly paws clicked against the stone steps as he exited the corridor.
The scorching sun felt like a glowing induction stovetop pressed against the ground; within just a few steps, the moisture had completely evaporated from his pads.
“A very standard lab report.
It confirms the species is Saltwater Crocodile.
Mr.
Chris, what are your professional thoughts?”
“I’ve noticed that China’s current approach toward wildlife protection is still…
let’s say, at a ‘voluntary’ level.
Could this be a systemic issue with the Department of Forestry?”
Chris Liwei’s words were heavily coded, laden with implication.
He kept drifting his gaze toward Old Larry, intently observing the old man’s reactions.
“If it is a problem with the Forestry Department, then there is absolutely nothing I can do about it,” Old Larry replied with a dismissive shrug, acting as if he didn’t care about the politics at all.
Titan had already reached the back of the clinic, but he couldn’t see inside.
He changed tactics, waddling around to the rear of the building and hiding his massive, green-scaled body in the tall, dense grass.
“Director Larry, to be honest, I don’t believe this crocodile is a pure Saltwater Crocodile.
My professional opinion is that it’s a high-tier hybrid.”
Mr.
Qiu’s interest was immediately piqued.
Old Larry, however, seemed to have some lingering doubts.
“Wait a second.
Number Three is my crocodile.
There aren’t any other crocodilians in this area, are there?”
“Could it be…
a Yangtze alligator hybrid?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Fair point.”
The trio chatted happily for nearly an hour.
Qiu and Chris Liwei did the vast majority of the talking, with Mr.
Qiu occasionally cracking dry, professional jokes to lighten the atmosphere.
Titan was bored to the point of nearly falling asleep in the grass.
Fortunately, neither of the experts suggested re-testing his blood, and they both eventually came to the satisfyingly incorrect conclusion that Titan was a “unique hybrid.”
Indeed, how could these foolish humans possibly guess the true, prehistoric identity of a Deinosuchus?
“So, the scales behind his head…” Mr.
Qiu started.
“What is wrong with them?”
“No, it is nothing.
It is probably just my imagination.”
Chris Liwei, who had been in close physical contact with Titan during the swim, seemed to have realized something.
He appeared deep in thought for a moment before swallowing the words he had been about to say.
“Hmm.
It is getting late.
I suppose I should head back now.”
The conversation finally wound down.
The tea on the coffee table was cold and empty.
Mr.
Qiu glanced at his watch and requested to leave.
“Aren’t you going to stay for lunch?”
“No, my ecological park requires constant attention.”
“Mr.
Qiu, if you ever find yourself needing Saltwater Crocodile hatchlings, please be sure to contact me.”
“Definitely.
I will be in touch.”
Old Larry escorted Mr.
Qiu to the door and handed him a bag of local gifts as a token of his gratitude.
However, Chris Liwei didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave.
Deep breath.
Old Larry let out a sigh of relief as the expert stepped away.
He pulled the business card out of his pocket and tried to hand it back to the foreigner.
“I wonder…
what exactly is the business you have with me, Mr.
Chris?”
There was a faint rustling sound in the grass directly behind Chris Liwei.
He didn’t seem to notice, but Old Larry could clearly see a pair of massive, scaly claws protruding through the weeds.
Titan?!
“Director Larry, do you happen to know exactly how many Golden Tigers there are in the world?”
Chris Liwei kept that faint, unreadable smile on his face, as if he were discussing something totally mundane.
“I have no idea.”
“As far as the records go, there are fewer than ten.
That includes both wild populations and those in captivity.”
“Even a blind Golden Tiger cub…
there are countless underground collectors who want to keep it as a trophy, poachers who want to skin it for the black market, and corrupt zoo owners who want to own it as a status symbol.
Why do you think Mr.
Lin would entrust it to someone like you?”
Old Larry didn’t reply.
He stood perfectly still, waiting for the other man to continue.
After all, this man was someone the Captain had vetted. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Surely he knew what the Captain was thinking?
“Singapore enacted bird and animal protection laws back in 1967.
China doesn’t even have a decent, enforceable protection law to this day.
We claim we need animals, but we do nothing to actually protect them.”
“Watch your words, Mr.
Chris.
The government’s current decisions have their reasons.”
“But the animals won’t live to see that day.”
Old Larry deeply disliked Chris Liwei’s cynical, arrogant tone, but he honestly couldn’t find a way to refute the man’s logic.
Chris Liwei didn’t say anything more.
He simply pushed the business card back toward Old Larry’s chest and walked out of the zoo without a backward glance.
“It is deeply ironic that we have to ask foreigners to worry about our own animals.”
“That is not entirely accurate.
My mother is Malay, but my father is Chinese.”
Chris Liwei, who hadn’t gone far, turned back to offer the correction, leaving Old Larry speechless for a moment.
Old Larry looked down at the crisp white business card.
It had some slightly crooked, handwritten Chinese characters, a flowing phone number, and a single, bold line of printed text:
[ Nature Conservation Association ]
“Rumble.”
The setting sun stretched Old Larry’s shadow long and thin across the pavement.
He didn’t snap out of his trance until Titan let out a soft, rumbling growl.
“Sigh…
Number Three.
Go back to the enclosure first.
You have had a hard day.
You haven’t even eaten yet, have you?
Let me go prepare something for you.”
Titan watched Old Larry’s retreating figure before waddling toward his enclosure.
He began to ponder the implications of Chris Liwei’s words.
Cat Number Two was sent here by a mysterious “Mr.
Lin”?
That made Old Frank’s previous comments about the tiger’s rarity make perfect sense.
The “Mr.
Lin” mentioned by Chris Liwei was likely attracted to the zoo specifically because of its remote location and Old Larry’s genuine, naive attitude toward animal welfare.
After all, Old Larry’s original intention wasn’t to open a professional, profitable zoo.
It was more like he was just a retired man who loved animals and accidentally started raising them.
He had literally almost fed the bear cub into a state of obesity.
But…
isn’t that incredibly dangerous?
Although, in terms of public PR, it was certainly better for a rare, blind Golden Tiger to die quietly in a remote zoo than to die in full public view.
Just because there were no tourists here at Old Larry’s zoo right now didn’t mean there wouldn’t be any in the future.
Chris Liwei—or rather, the people backing him—must have considered this.
If they had any reservations before, this time they were clearly trying to openly recruit Old Larry for their own agenda.
“Huh?”
The moon climbed into the starry sky.
The streetlights flickered on, and three crows stood in a row on the wire.
They seemed to be cawing at each other, perhaps plotting something, as they watched Titan waddle up the steps, one grueling inch at a time.