Chapter 262
Chapter 262
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 262
Chapter Title: A Hundred Legs, Ten Thousand Poisons (12)
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Defense fishing is what they call a 'big game.'
For a yellowtail over 8 kilograms, it's not just the weight— the fish's own power is terrifying. The strong ones drag the line away at over 30 kilometers per hour, so the person holding the rod has to put everything they've got just to catch a glimpse of its dorsal fin.
-Whiiiing!!!
"......!!!"
And yellowtail aren't just strong. Whether it's smarts or sheer survival instinct, they don't just play a simple tug-of-war. They suddenly change direction to snap the line.
-Snap!
"Ugh!"
-Splat!
"Ee-yah......!"
It relaxes, then blasts off in a new direction. Any lapse in concentration, and the line would surely break. I focused every ounce of my mind on my fingertips, reeling out and pulling in repeatedly. Little by little—very little by little—I could feel it being dragged along.
-Thud!
"......!"
Damn. Something snagged. I sighed for a moment. The line had caught on a rock. The yellowtail was diving into a crevice. This was going to complicate things...... I let out line skillfully again. Then I felt it drifting farther away. But no need to worry. It was worn out from the power struggle too, so it wouldn't go far.
No rushing. The key was to wait for it to let its guard down, then yank hard. I waited until the line went slack, then—at the moment there was no movement—yanked the rod sharply in a new direction. Once more, I felt its heavy pull. A real nail-biter of a fight......!
'......This one's so strong, it might be 10 kilos—no, maybe over 12?'
Catching a monster right off the bat was great, but I was worried about the line snapping. Damn, should I have reinforced it? But who could've predicted something this big from the start!
I had plenty of strength left. But would the line hold? Even if I dragged it to the boat, lines often snapped the moment you tried to haul it aboard.
Ugh. While wrestling with it for ages, the rod whipped this way and that. Hup! Huhup! Hyah! Dozens of pulls with gritted teeth......
-Shimmer!
There!
Seeing the scales sparkle below the surface, I let out a joyful shout. Come on, just a bit more, just a bit more......
-Whiiiiiing!
Maybe the yellowtail sensed the end of this 'big game.' The line went taut, ready to snap any second. I didn't yank too hard, nor let it out too much—fine-tuning the power delicately. It thrashed—squirming below, sending up white foam—and sweat beaded on my forehead before I knew it.
Match point.
One mistake, and it was over—for whichever side slipped.
'But not me.'
The harder I pulled on the rod, the more my lips curled up. Yeah, get anxious! Flee even more desperately! I timed every moment its strength flagged, yanking sharply to change direction. Keeping it off-balance with pull after pull until, at last......
-Clunk!
The taut pull on the rod suddenly went slack.
'......Now!'
Calmly, I reeled in. Cutting against the current, a heavy shadow trailed along.
-Splashhhh!
"Oh, ohhh......!"
What broke the surface was a massive yellowtail that drew an involuntary gasp. My god, 12 kilos? It might even hit 15 if we're lucky! And this line held? Did Donar bless me or something......! As I marveled and hauled it aboard—
-Pang!
"Whoooaaaah!!!!"
The line snapped after all.
-Thud!!!!
"......Huff, huff, heok......"
But who am I? Wanderer of the vast seas, son of the legendary angler Gang Taegong (age 59/my dad)—Kang Taeo! I flung myself toward the water, arms outstretched, barely scooping the yellowtail into my arms before collapsing onto the deck.
-Thump!
It was so huge and heavy that the boat rocked wildly as I fell. I lay there beside the flopping fish, catching my breath. Wow, no joke. This is insane......
"Oof, damn. My arms are numb......"
I stared at the sky until the yellowtail's thrashing slowed, then finally sat up after a while.
"......Wow, it's huge."
The biggest one I've ever seen. Gazing at its glossy sheen, I pondered for a moment. Would one be enough to fill our 'family' bellies?
A 15-kilo catch meant about 7 kilos of edible meat. Plenty for normal folks...... But our family? Gluttons doesn't even cover it—they're monstrous eaters......
'Guess I need at least one more......'
Decision made, I pulled out a prepared moonlight tree vine. Thin yet incredibly tough, it was perfect for a line—and as a totem cord too. Boiled and dried just right, no worries about it breaking. I swapped it for the line and cast the bait again. From the moment it arced out, my gut said this was good.
-Plop!
Exactly—one more, and done!
* * *
-Rushhh......
-Splash!
-Rushhh......
-Splash!
On a gentle beach where waves lapped softly, the sun dipped low, painting the sky red. I'd beached the boat and waved to the distant party. Callisto spotted me first and jogged lightly across the sand.
"Theodor! Welcome back?"
"Yeah. Training?"
"Ended just as you said."
True to her word, 'well' finished—Elle and Roschnak lay sprawled in the sand's center. Not even a finger twitched; they were dead silent, like mice.
"Haha. Good work, Callisto."
"No trouble. And your errand?"
"Went great. Good haul."
I gestured to the boat's hold. She nodded with a soft gasp of admiration.
"Big and fresh. Impressive."
"What can I say, average. Help carry?"
"Of course."
Inside were three yellowtail. I'd planned on two and done, but couldn't resist one more cast...... Ten minutes, I told myself—if nothing, head back. But it bit immediately. How could I refuse? Tonight's dinner was set to be a feast.
With Callisto's help moving the three, I set up for cooking. Simple tools from my subspatial ring made a proper field kitchen. No cutting board big enough? Solved with Sequoia Forest lumber.
"Heh heh heh......"
Time to use the custom cooking knife set from Corin's forge. They don't usually fuss over kitchen blades, but business was slow then, so they took my order. Lucky timing. Got blades leagues beyond normal table knives.
'Yellowtail? No problem.'
Dressing a 15-kilo behemoth was a challenge even for me. I'd watched sashimi videos for fun, but doing it? Different story......
-Scrape, scrape......
Lay it flat, scrape off scales. That's where fish prep starts. Fins and tail next—set aside. Head too, save separately. Dark meat delicacy. Fish heads are a treat.
Tidied the bits, split the body, slid the knife carefully around bones—big fillets dropped free. Amateur work, not perfect, some sloppy cuts...... But hey, it'll do.
-Gulp.
Man, how long since sashimi? No raw fish in this world, so this was a rare treat. I peeled the skin meticulously, separated by cut. Whew, tough work. Halfway, and sweat dotted my brow.
Fillet into four: backloin, upper belly, lower belly, navel. Before sashimi......
"Lloyd, fire?"
"Ready."
"Good. Pot up."
Pot on the roaring flames, toss in gills and bony scraps. Add veggies for broth. Boil hard—spicy stew done. Wait, not quite? Sigh, no gochugaru in this pseudo-medieval land—miss that kick......
"Callisto, this is yours."
"Yes, Theodor."
Head whole for salt-grill. Good rock salt's all you need. Fish oil melts into salt, crisps the skin—crunchy shell, chewy flesh! Different explosion from sashimi.
-Bubble bubble......
-Crackle, crackle!
Pot simmering, campfire snapping as my soundtrack, I dove into sashimi.
-Slice, slice, slice......
Firm, chewy backloin first, then red upper belly, oily white lower.
-Slice, slice slice......
Fatty milky gamasashi, then the crown jewel—oily, chewy navel, worthy of 'yellowtail's flower.'
"Hoo......!"
Dozens of cuts later, a proper sashimi spread. I wiped my brow and yelled to the group.
"Dinner time!"