He practically shouted as he typed and sent the text. He couldn't care less about profits right now; the camp's survival hung on this single decision.
[Don't worry about whether it's worth it or not. I can afford the loss. Just fish for anything, right now, immediately.]
Alvin's reply carried a hint of helplessness.
[Alright. Right now, we can only catch Atka Mackerel. That fish only sells for 0.5 US Dollar a pound. The River Beach will be operating at a loss.]
Seeing the reply, Feng Mountain's eyes flew wide open, and anger surged within him.
[Don't worry about the loss. I can afford it. There must be a fishing operation today. I don't care what you catch. This is an order.]
Feng Mountain's tone was now unyieldingly firm. He had only one thought in his mind: 'I must keep the tribe's Fire Seed burning.'
Alvin, still seeming a little confused, sent another message.
[Okay, Boss. Why are you texting instead of calling?]
