Chapter 16: No Way!!
But as he watched the float dip and rise repeatedly, something didn't feel right.
"Is this a dragonfly skimming the surface?" he wondered.
The float was showing what fishermen called "dragonfly touches the water," where the bobber dips slightly before rising again. It repeated this action, dipping and bouncing, as if it were nodding.
Experienced fishermen could tell a lot from this behavior—what type of fish had bitten, how big it was, and whether it was worth reeling in. But Ryan, though growing more experienced, knew this wasn't an encouraging sign.
He suspected he was in for another tough fishing day.
Ahem, that's right. In addition to lacking bait and equipment, Ryan's "air force" wasn't used to the environment, and the wind and waves by the seaside were just too strong.
That's not an excuse, it's the truth—he's just stating the facts.
As someone more accustomed to fishing in rivers and lakes inland, it's natural for him to feel out of place when sea fishing. Being in the air force (meaning not catching anything) is totally reasonable and expected.
Ryan, a veteran inland fisherman, wouldn't accept any refutations on this!
In reality, most fishermen don't like when the float bobbles repeatedly because it's hard to tell if you should lift the rod or not.
However, his bait was snail meat, so there wasn't a concern about smaller fish nibbling it away.
There are generally two situations that cause this kind of float bobbing:
One is a small fish messing with the bait. The little guys can't swallow it but are interested, continuously nibbling at the bait.
If the bait lacks viscosity, it might break apart due to the small fish's antics.
The second scenario is a big fish testing the bait. If it decides the bait's worth eating, it'll swallow it whole in one go.
In the first situation, there's no need to worry. He just has to wait patiently because the small fish won't be able to eat the snail meat on the hook.
But if it's the second situation, then he's in for a big payday. Once the hook is bitten, it's bound to be a large one, much like when fishing for a Sharpedo.
The telltale sign is when the float dips sharply, not slowly, indicating a big fish biting the hook.
If the fish swims away with the float, that's what's called a "black float," the kind of float action all fishermen dream of—it means a guaranteed catch.
Buzz!
Suddenly, the float, which had been bobbing up and down, sank forcefully, and the line stretched so tightly it nearly made Ryan stumble.
But his reflexes were quick. He immediately lifted the rod, braced it against the reef, and let the sea creature pull. But Ryan didn't budge.
He had thought it was just some small fish when he saw the slight bobbing. But the strength of this underwater opponent caught him by surprise.
From the tension on the rod, it wasn't any weaker than the Sharpedo he caught before.
Back then, even when he was hungry, Ryan managed to reel in a Sharpedo, so there was no way he was letting this one escape.
The Poliwag, noticing the commotion, stopped playing in the water and rushed to Ryan's side, cheering, "Poli! Poli!"
It seemed the Poliwag was saying, "You got this, keep going!" or something like that.
Since it had been forbidden to enter the ocean without permission, the Poliwag now stayed on shore unless Ryan gave the order. Instead, it happily stuck out its little pink tongue, licking its lips.
After all, they were finally going to eat fish again! Kelp was fine, but nothing compared to high-protein fish.
Eating kelp was just a last resort. If given the choice, Poliwag would definitely prefer meat.
Poliwag cheeks puffed out, watching Ryan struggle. It knew this had to be a big one.
At this point, Ryan was feeling the burn—this fish was no joke, way bigger than he expected.
The fish's strength exceeded even that of the Sharpedo, and it kept struggling without end. Ryan was seriously worried that this fish might snap his fishing rod.
This rod was his old friend, one he had used for countless trips and long nights fishing. He couldn't allow it to break.
But he wasn't about to let the fish go either. A true fisherman doesn't make such choices; he wanted both.
Filled with determination, Ryan held his ground, battling with the sea creature for the entire morning. Even Poliwag, tired from cheering, took a nap, and still, the fish kept fighting.
Finally, as the fish's struggle began to slow, Ryan let out a sigh of relief. The intense tug-of-war had worn him out.
But now that the fish was slowing down, he couldn't rest. He needed to keep the pressure on, walking the fish until it tired completely.
After waiting so long for a catch, he couldn't afford to lose it now. This was about the pride of a fisherman.
Thinking this, he quickly raised the rod again, stepping back to let the fishing rod's tension wear down the fish.
He walked the fish for the second time, the third time, the fourth... until its struggles grew weaker and shorter, and it soon tired out.
The fish had clearly overexerted itself, collapsing from exhaustion.
Taking advantage of this, Ryan forgot about supervising Poliwag training. He spent the entire day battling this stupid thing in the sea.
As the sun began to set, he finally saw what he had been fighting all day long.
"Magikarp, Magikarp, Magikarp…"
Not a koi fish, not even a regular carp, but a Magikarp.
"What the heck? You've got to be kidding me!" Ryan cursed when he saw the familiar golden crown-shaped dorsal fin break the surface.
He wasn't upset because the fish was bad or inedible, but because Magikarp had no meat.
This thing was all bones, with its muscles in its head. It was easily ten kilograms but had no real substance. No wonder it had taken all day to reel in!
Ten kilograms and no meat? Ryan couldn't believe it.
With how much this fish could splash and flop around all day, its muscles had to be well-developed.