“We got one!” Kazutora shouted, gripping the thick rope as he and another crewman hauled the heavy fishing net up from the dark waters.

Kisaki leaned over the railing, squinting at the tangled mass. “Another mermaid?” he muttered, clearly unimpressed. His tone dripped with annoyance as he stepped back to avoid the salty spray.

But the moment the net hit the wooden deck with a wet slap, the crew fell silent.

It wasn’t a mermaid.

The creature lay half-curled among the ropes and seaweed, its body slick with seawater. Where there should’ve been legs, there was a long, iridescent tail—sleek and powerful, scales catching the moonlight like a blade.

Kazutora stumbled back, eyes wide with horror. “T-That’s…” he stammered. “That’s a siren!”

Footsteps thudded across the deck, deliberate and unhurried. Hanma appeared from the shadows, hands in his pockets and a grin spreading across his face.

“Well, well,” he drawled, eyes gleaming with curiosity. “What do we have here? A male siren?”