The Fisher of Men (2)
Luke said to Simon, son of Sebade, “Put out into deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”
Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and caught nothing. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”
When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that the nets began to break. When Simon saw this, he fell at Luke’s knees and said, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” And Iaco, Simon’s sister and daughter of Sebade, was astonished too.
But Luke said to Simon, “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will fish for people.” So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything, and followed him.
I thought today’s luck was especially rotten.
We’d been out on the sea since before dawn, casting our nets, but hadn’t caught a single fish.
Even on the worst days, we’d usually snag at least a few fingerlings. How could we come up empty after all that?
Our daily bread was a real worry right now, but no matter how hard we tried, the fish just weren’t biting. We’d pulled an all-nighter, and everyone—myself included—was bone-tired and desperate for rest. There was no pushing on with the fishing. Reluctantly, we’d brought the boat back to the dock and were sorting things out when—
“Hey there.”
A stranger’s voice made me turn. A boy stood there, giving off an ethereal, sky-blue aura.
His clothes were finely woven from luxurious fabric fit for nobility, his skin pale and soft like he’d never known a day’s hard labor. And that face—noble blood practically shone from it.
He had to be a noble. Far grander than our local lord or his retainers. Definitely high-ranking.
“Wh-who are you?”
“I’m Luke.”
“I’ve lost my way and wanted to ask directions. What territory is this?”
I glanced around—no companions in sight.
A high noble wandering alone? Without even guards?
Mage? Or some swordmaster with insane skills? Either way, he had to be confident in his power. Nobles like that were prime targets for bandits.
Without the strength, he’d have ended up a corpse by now.
Come to think of it, I’d heard stories. Most nobles packed serious power, and some psycho ones roamed solo just to slaughter ignorant fools who jumped them—for fun.
Was this guy one of those? Nobles, man.
“Ah, I see. This is Galilee.”
“Is that so? Thank you.”
He’d asked the territory’s name, so I told him. He thanked me politely.
That should... do it, right?
Nobles were people we commoners couldn’t afford to tangle with—especially high ones.
My parents had suffered terribly after crossing paths with some back in the day.
Just... just leave already. Please!
“Simon, big bro~! Good work out there~! I brought food... Huh? Wh-who’s this?”
That’s when Iaco’s voice rang out.
Of all the timing!
Nobles saw commoners as worthless filth—especially women, who they lusted after.
Spot a pretty flatland girl on the street? They’d snatch her up for a night, no strings attached. To them, we were too dirty to bother with responsibility.
Beautiful girls unlucky enough to catch their eye ended up as one-night toys, meeting tragic fates.
Our own lord was notorious for it, so we’d kept our lovely Iaco well hidden. And now, at this moment!
“Looks like some lost noble. Check out that aura.”
I hurried to her side and whispered. Couldn’t risk the noble overhearing—some had freakish hearing. Subtly let her know he was noble, hoping she’d get him to scram before he noticed her.
But...
“Wow, you’re right. Um, hello?”
“Hello.”
Why the hell are you greeting him?! And blushing to boot! You into him or what?!
Even if he’s a pretty boy, he’s a noble! No way he sees trash like us as people!
“Bro, catch a lot of fish today?”
“Nah. Nothing bit at all.”
Iaco usually dropped off food and bolted. Said she hated the smell of sweaty guys after a long day.
We’d eat quick, finish up, and head home.
So why wasn’t she leaving? She was dragging out the chat like she wanted to stick around.
Because of that noble’s face, probably.
I didn’t like it. Sure, he was handsome, but so what?
A rugged, square-jawed mug like mine was real man territory. That scrawny prettyboy build? Good luck pretending to be a man.
Speaking of, I’d read dragons took on handsome human forms like that for fun when polymorphing. Wait—dragon? Nah, couldn’t be. Books said dragons wandered solo like that sometimes... but no way.
Anyway, why wasn’t the noble leaving?
Wasn’t he just asking directions?
Don’t tell me he’s eyeing Iaco. Then what do I—
“Simon.”
“...Y-yes? Were you calling me?”
He said my name out of nowhere.
...Huh? My name?
How did he—? Oh, right. Iaco must’ve called me when she brought food.
Still weird, though. Nobles don’t bother remembering peasant names.
Even the official I deliver fish to after ten years doesn’t know mine.
Yet this noble called me—a lowly fisherfolk—by name.
What the...?
“Go out to the deep water and let down your nets again. You will catch fish.”
And then the boy spouted nonsense.
What? Deep water? Again?
Hands that soft never hauled a net, let alone fished. What’s with the armchair advice?
Thinks we missed ’em by fishing the wrong spot?
I’ve been at this years—no rookie mistakes like that.
We’d scoured every inch of the shallows. Still, zilch today. Like they’d all vanished.
Nobles, honestly.
But...
“Noble sir, we toiled all night and caught not a one. But since you say so, we’ll cast the nets.”
Defy him and who knows what trouble? I’d built some strength since that incident, but nobles were still unknowns—high ones especially. No confidence matching them.
Sigh. Just do it. Call it stepping in shit.
With my crew, we shoved off again, heading to the deep spot the noble boy indicated.
Splash.
We reached it and spread the nets.
Fat chance anyway. Total time-waster.
What’s a noble who’s never caught a fish doing giving fishing tips?
Did he even need to?
Hmm...
Wait.
Dockside’s just Iaco and that noble now.
Is he targeting her? Sent us away with dumb orders to clear the field?!
Damn it!
Gotta get back fast. Who knows what he’ll do to Iaco!
“Everyone, hold up—!”
Thud.
I’d just warned the crew and started turning the boat when it suddenly listed hard.
What now?
“S-Simon! The net’s full!”
Net? Duh, it’s in the water.
What’s with her? Not like her to freak. The noble thing? Or just exhaustion from the all-nighter?
“No, full of fish!”
What? Impossible.
No fish all night, and now suddenly packed? No way...
I peered over the side. There, under the surface—nets bulging with fish.
...No freaking way.
“H-how are there this many?! We didn’t get a single one all night!”
“Net’s tearing! Grab hold, everyone!”
What the hell was happening?
“You seem confused.”
Then a calm voice from behind—not the crew’s panic, but like some sage. I whipped around.
“N-noble sir? H-how are you on the boat?!”
He should’ve been at the dock. But there he stood, right on deck.