"Okay!" Chu Mingcheng had some water and felt a bit better. He vigorously turned the handle, resisting the tug from the deep-sea leviathan.
The stiff fishing rod was still arched like a bow, creaking incessantly.
The Dali Ma Line was stretched taut, darting back and forth over the surface of the ocean, sending ripples through the waters.
Chu Mingcheng bit down hard on his teeth and continued to persevere.
The first surge of energy from the fish still hadn't passed, and he couldn't afford to lose heart—if he did, he wouldn't be able to hold on at all.
Luckily, whenever he felt he couldn't hold on any longer, he would briefly activate the electronic reel to help out a bit.
Another ten minutes or so passed, and Chu Mingcheng's face was flushed red, veins on his neck bulging from the prolonged effort, his arm muscles clearly defined.