Grinning Ear to Ear, Clatter Bang! Thud!
“Jackpot! This is huge!! Dusic! Check this out! You said you fish too, right? That thing, the domfish, it's a rare catch, yeah? Huh? Five million won! Expensive fish!”
“Agh...!”
Like a bolt from the blue in the dead of night—Gak Il-sik, who had barged in out of nowhere, unleashing a machine-gun barrage of words. Gak Dusic, dead to the world with blackout curtains drawn tight, yanked the blanket over his head in irritation.
“Let me sleep... I pulled an all-nighter yesterday too...”
“Hey, hey, hey! Is domfish super rare or what?!”
“Domfish...? What's that...?”
“The streamer I'm watching just caught one! At the breakwater!”
“Uh, breakwater? What kinda nonsense...”
Gak Dusic dredged up what he knew about domfish through his foggy brain. Domfish were the holy grail for big-game anglers—something they dreamed of hooking just once before they died. Deep-sea dwellers in hundreds of meters of water. No way to catch them with ordinary gear; even if you hooked one, reeling it up was a grueling battle of endurance. Rods snapped like twigs, and they adapted to pressure changes fast—if you didn't slam them on deck the second they surfaced, they'd bolt like they'd never been tired.
And this guy claimed to have caught one at a breakwater? Total bullshit.
“Ughhh. Go. Away.”
Gak Dusic waved his hand dismissively from under the blanket, desperate for more sleep, but Gak Il-sik smacked it away and bellowed on in his booming voice.
“I swear, I saw it live!”
“Then they pre-baited the hook...”
“No way!”
At the shout that threatened to punch through the ceiling, Gak Dusic realized it: no more sleep.
“Haaah...”
He let out a ground-shaking sigh and sat up. A phone was shoved right in his face.
“Look at this. Domfish, right? So, is it expensive?”
“Yeah, pretty pricey. Not insanely so, but—wait.”
Gak Dusic peered at the chaotic screen amid the uproar and gaped. Breakwaters all looked the same, but among the crowd struggling to net the domfish, he spotted familiar faces. He'd been there on assignment before.
“Caught at... a mainland breakwater?!”
“Yeah, that's what they say. I don't know fishing, so what's the big deal about mainland?”
“No... this can't be real?”
Gak Dusic scratched his head furiously. Impossible, so fake came to mind. But who fakes with a rare fish like that?
“No way it's staged—”
He tested the waters anyway, and—
“Our Lady Coronodon doesn't do fakes!!”
Gak Dusic plugged his ears at the bellow, like a steamed chestnut exploding, and said,
“Lady? She's half your age, like some college girl? Anyway, why 'Lady' for her?”
“Not half!”
Gak Il-sik plopped onto the bed with another yell.
“Heh heh heh! Our Lady Coronodon said good things come to oppa too. Looks like everything's falling into place now. Yeah. Good for her. Real good!”
His bearded brother chuckled like he was talking about a beloved kid. Gak Dusic eyed him pitifully and asked,
“Good things for oppa? What happened?”
“Lady Coronodon said her oppa was in a vegetative state for 11 years and just woke up. Recognizes people, communicates fine now.”
“Oh?”
“Hold it!”
Gak Dusic's reporter instincts lit up his eyes, but Gak Il-sik's face hardened.
“You leak this as a story, you're dead.”
“Dead...? C'mon, when have I ever?”
“They keep pressuring you for stories, and you're always whining.”
“Whining? I just vented a bit! Jeez, all these feel-good tales, healing stories, humanity-affirming crap—think they grow on trees like rice spilling from a sack?”
His shoulders slumped as he roughly scrubbed his dry face, muttering. But instead of a warm pat and kind words, his brother—far from the gentle type—drifted into other thoughts.
He'd burst in excited about the domfish, but chatting with his brother jogged a memory of an old acquaintance who'd passed.
If only that miracle had happened to him. Would've been great.
Motorcycles were death traps—even geared up, one bump from a car and it was over. He'd begged: no thrills, no speed bullshit, think of your family, never ride. But the guy died in a bike crash anyway.
For two years comatose, hope faded; family crumbled. Gak Il-sik's face soured thinking of it.
Later they even said it'd be better if he died quick...
Long illness wears out the most filial son. Harsh, but reality. Medical bills, caregiving—whole family chained to one silent patient.
“Sigh...”
“I'm the one who wants to sigh, why you?”
“Life happens, man. Anyway, expensive fish?”
“Auction hit three mil a year or two back at the market.”
“Nice.”
Gak Il-sik nodded, scratching his stubbly jaw, then said,
“Need a feel-good story?”
“Yeah.”
“I'll ask around.”
“Ask who?”
“Who else? Lady Coronodon. If it's okay to run a story on her oppa.”
“Oh!”
Gak Dusic nodded. Solid enough for the bosses who hounded him. Overseas news sections ate up those tales: decades comatose, wakes, tearful family reunion. Views galore.
“But bro, you're not just hyping that Chronos streamer, right? Backlash city if you do.”
“Cronos? It's Co-ro-no-don Lady! Nah, no promo needed now. Look at this.”
Gak Il-sik snorted and pointed at the phone.
“Already chaos. Total chaos.”
“Over the domfish?”
“Yup.”
As Gak Il-sik said, the screen was pandemonium with crowds swarming.
* * *
That was the goal, huh. But domfish at a breakwater? C'mon, guys.
Breakwaters are for chill fishing. Why would a deep-sea monster show up there? Not even some remote island rock—shallow mainland waters, and bam, domfish on the line.
Still, no one'd cry fake or pre-hooked. 'Cause it's a domfish. Who'd catch and stage an expensive one like that?
Spirits could, and did. But...
「We. Don't. Know.」
「Real. Don't. Know!」
Gwangjeong and Hwa-jeong peeked nervously, checking if I was mad. Hm. Not mad—more baffled. But this'd help Bin-i big time. Viewer spike for sure.
【It's fine.】
「Phew...」
「Good...」
They relaxed visibly. Team of four, after all. Or scared of group punishment?
I stared at the phone screen Lee Pil-nyeo had left. Domfish hauled up—not really fished, more salvaged. Bin-i clutched her rod in a daze; other anglers went nuts.
Sujeong and Pungjeong stuck to the domfish, grinning. Mom saw the chat saying five mil and bolted: “Not the time to sit here!” Gripped the phone and dashed out.
Before sprinting from the room, she squeezed my hand: “I'll make sure Bin-i doesn't get scammed! Five million—what's happening?!” Face flushed with worry.
Scammed... Yeah. Bin-i's sharp; never conned. But dazed by the monster catch, she might slip...
...Nah, impossible. Sujeong and Pungjeong grinned while scanning sharply. Anyone trying to snatch it'd get dunked headfirst in the sea.
Mom runs a restaurant, connections everywhere—should find a buyer for that beast easy.
Hm. Gotta level up Spiritual Eye soon. For worry-free astral projection. Half-assed, and a strong evil spirit could mess me up.
Even with refined spirits as guards, it'd look bad. I wiggled my fingers, testing sensation. Heavenly Wood in my right palm sharpened recovery post-delusion pouch snack.
With Bin-i's evil spirit gone, spirits hauling herb-munching critters like before—faster gains.
Priority: Spiritual Eye. Astral stuff to check.
Gwangjeong heard of a human like me; Sujeong saw traces. If Dark Heavenly Realm immortal-like, goodies aplenty.
Even scraps fine if training cave. Lingering qi from long cultivation.
Plan: Let body sleep; astral to cave, grind hard.
【That human trace like me. You mentioned.】
「Yes.」
【Details.】
「Round. Sealed. They. Said.」
Round and closed. Training cave likely.
「No-rot. Bones. They. Said.」
Hoo?
「Human. Bones? But. Not. Normal. Human. Bluish. Glow. They. Said. More. Too.」
Hmm? Nothing pops yet... What?
Gwangjeong heard, Sujeong saw. Answers soon.
Back to screen. No chat disasters; anglers snapping pics, keeping domfish alive.
Bin-i grinned at a text. Mom saying she could transport it—
Oh ho. Live fish truck rolling into the breakwater entrance.