Clang!

The speargun's bolt struck the black porgy right in the gills, punching clean through and hitting the reef behind it with a sharp crack.

The fish wasn't large, but its belly was round and swollen, likely weighing around a jin.

Chu Mingcheng bled it out as before, then threaded a fish stringer through its gills and clipped it to his side. The speargun had been a solid purchase. While not as convenient as a proper speargun, it was far more effective than a simple snare.

The successful hunt taught Chu Mingcheng proper spearfishing technique. This time, he expanded his search beyond the reefs near shore.

A black porgy... too small. He'd let it grow.

A sea bass... not very big either.

In the open water to his right, a school of five or six large red fish glided into view. Target locked.

Chu Mingcheng surged forward, pursuing the school. Alarmed, the fish dispersed in a frenzy. The largest one darted toward deeper waters, with him hot on its tail.

Fish can't maintain high speeds for long. Once it thought it had shaken its pursuer, it would slow down. But the moment it paused, the hunter suddenly appeared to its left, scaring it into a sharp U-turn.

Chu Mingcheng had successfully altered the fish's escape route, now directing it back toward the coast. He stopped his full-speed pursuit, instead tailing it from a distance. Whenever the fish tried to change direction, he would brandish his speargun, forcing it back toward shore.

This method of herding fish into traps had been used by fishermen for centuries. Even today, some fishermen in Japan still herded fish into nets using scuba gear, which made them much slower. Chu Mingcheng, on the other hand, was so fast that the fish had no chance of escape. It could only flee before him until he drove it into a cluster of reefs.

Once cornered, he positioned himself at the crevice's entrance. The fish darted back and forth within, too wary to make a break for it. Each time it seemed poised to escape, Chu Mingcheng loomed in its path, cutting off its retreat.

With the situation under control, Chu Mingcheng held back from striking immediately. A hunter’s patience was key. The fish, still rattled and hyper-vigilant, would evade him if he approached now. He needed it to settle. Only then would he make his move.

He waited twenty minutes.

The fish had been lingering motionless by a reef for five or six minutes. Chu Mingcheng began gliding toward it, movements slow and deliberate.

He raised his speargun. Swoosh!

The bolt’s impact reverberated through his grip, sinking into flesh. The fish thrashed, kicking up a cloud of sand that clouded his view. He steadied the speargun, pinning the fish to prevent its escape. This was a prize catch. Even through the haze, he could see it rivaled the dotted grouper he’d caught before—at least ten jin. A fish of this caliber justified the half-hour hunt.

Once the fish's struggles weakened, Chu Mingcheng bled it. In the green seawater, the blood flowed out not red, but black. After bleeding it, he secured it with a fish stringer.

He'd recognized it during the chase—a purple-spotted (red) snapper. This species could grow over a meter long and weigh more than thirty jin, though specimens that large were rare even in deep water.

Chu Mingcheng left the area for now. The snapper's blood would likely attract predators, and he planned to return later to see what showed up.

Chasing the snapper had taken considerable time. He surfaced for air and checked his position. The underwater pursuit had disoriented him; all he knew was the general direction of shore. Once his head broke the surface, he realized he'd drifted nearly two hundred meters from his entry point. His stamina, however, was fine. He didn't feel tired at all, and even if he did, he had Life Conversion to back. Nothing to worry about.

Chu Mingcheng adjusted his course and swam toward deeper water. There were too few large fish near the coast—his chances were much better further out.

After swimming about three hundred meters, a school of Spanish mackerel shot past him. He didn't even consider giving chase. He could handle a red snapper, but mackerel were another story entirely. He'd need a high-powered underwater scooter for that.

As he watched the mackerel disappear, he looked down and spotted a large cuttlefish swimming brazenly beneath him.

Well, hello there, Mr. Cuttlefish. How about a change of scenery? I hear a cooking pot is nice this time of year.

Chu Mingcheng turned and gave chase.

Sensing danger, the cuttlefish didn't flee like a fish. Instead, it slowed down, hiding next to a reef and changing color to match the rock. That trick might work on its natural predators, but it was useless against a human. By stopping, it had only made itself an easier target.

He crept closer, raised his speargun, took aim, and fired.

Poof!

A cloud of ink sprayed across his face. Chu Mingcheng blinked in mild surprise—he’d missed.

The cuttlefish fled in panic, shooting out a cloud of ink to cover its escape, not realizing it was only revealing its position.

With a light kick, Chu Mingcheng shot out of the ink cloud and immediately spotted the cuttlefish not far ahead. He didn't rush after it, instead keeping his distance and following as it ducked into another crevice in the rocks.

Chu Mingcheng swam over, peered down from above the reef, and located the cuttlefish. He aimed with his speargun and fired again.

A familiar cloud of black ink spread through the water. He waved his left hand, fanning it away. The vibrations from the speargun in his right hand told him he'd hit his mark.

This time, however, he didn't immediately reach in to grab it. He waited for the ink to thin, then gave the speargun a little jiggle.

The cuttlefish, in pain, sprayed more ink.

When it stopped, Chu Mingcheng jiggled the spear again.

Cuttlefish: I'll spray you!

Chu Mingcheng: I'll jiggle again.

Cuttlefish: I'm out, I'm out! Stop jiggling!

Chu Mingcheng: Really?

Cuttlefish: Really! Not a single drop left!

Chu Mingcheng: You're running a little low on supply there, buddy.

Cuttlefish: ...

Once he was certain the cuttlefish was completely drained, Chu Mingcheng finally grabbed it and secured it with a fish stringer. Cuttlefish wasn't expensive, but it was delicious—perfect for hosting guests tonight. As for the snapper, that was definitely for selling. It might even fetch over a thousand yuan.

By the time afternoon was over, his fish stringer was finally full. The dozens of jin of fish were starting to weigh him down. He put away his speargun and swam for shore.

His afternoon haul was much better than the morning's. After the cuttlefish, he'd speared two yellowfin seabream, both over two jin, and three black bream, each around two jin. He'd even chased four sea bass into a corner and speared them—three were over three jin each. The last was smaller, about one jin, which he'd set aside for dinner. He'd also gathered a good number of scallops and sea snails and caught two more plump swimming crabs. Unfortunately, he didn't find any more lobsters—they were just too rare.

As Chu Mingcheng stepped ashore with his catch, the sea breeze hit him and he shivered. At the same time, a wave of immense fatigue washed over him—the kind of bone-deep exhaustion you feel after being dragged around a shopping mall all day. He felt weak and sore all over.

He'd overdone it. Thinking he was invincible in the water, he'd spent the entire afternoon swimming everywhere, constantly chasing fish. He'd even gone ashore once to put his earlier catch in the cooler with the crushed ice he'd prepared. It was a testament to his codex's power that he hadn't collapsed from exhaustion at sea.

Chu Mingcheng quickly used Life Conversion. The fatigue didn't vanish completely, but he felt much better. He hurried to get the fish from his stringer into the cooler in his car, then grabbed a towel, dried himself off, and changed clothes inside the vehicle.