Chapter Eighteen

Cheng Yuan seized the little tiger’s paw and drew it across the belly of the Spineback Carp. The creature was instantly gutted, its entrails removed, and then he began to scale it. Xia Yu watched the little tiger’s paw with a hint of surprise in her eyes—such a small paw, yet so sharp.

The Spineback Carp was a common type of freshwater cyprinid. Its potential was mostly at the juvenile stage; in other words, it was at the very bottom of the freshwater monster food chain. Only a few individuals with exceptional talent and luck managed to survive to adulthood. Without human trainers in the equation, reaching adulthood was typically the species’ limit.

Yet in terms of adaptability, the Spineback Carp was quite resilient. There were over a hundred subspecies just in the breeding regions, with a distribution that spanned almost all freshwater zones. A few minutes later, Cheng Yuan stuffed a prepared half of the Spineback Carp into the little tiger’s mouth. “Find a place to eat,” he said, tossing the leftover entrails into the water before baiting his hook with another piece of fish.

Cheng Yuan’s main goal was to collect a pile of monster flesh; as a secondary aim, he hoped to find a monster he deemed worthy of forming a contract with. Either way, such ambitions had nothing to do with these common Spineback Carp.

From morning until nightfall, with the prepared lanterns now glowing, he fished continuously. Throughout the day, apart from one Blackscale Dragonfish, all his catches were low-tier juvenile fish. The little tiger, however, was quite content, reaching level nine—much faster than it would have by drinking milk. With the nourishment of monster flesh, the little tiger’s skill training accelerated, and in just half a day, its Thunderous Roar reached level seven.

Cheng Yuan took the little tiger’s paw and divided the flesh of the Blackscale Dragonfish. The three-meter-long fish, when it bit the bait, had pulled so fiercely that Cheng Yuan was nearly dragged into the water; only the quick reaction of the Blackstorm Dragon, who bit his clothes, prevented a case of “the fish catching the man.”

Besides fish, he also hauled up various monster materials: scales, bones, and, most unexpectedly, a book. Unfortunately, it was so soaked the writing was illegible, so Cheng Yuan simply hung it on a tree to dry, intending to check it again the next day.

Xia Yu, dragging a five-meter-long Whistle-Tongue Fish, was preparing to leave. She’d had a bountiful day, landing four adult-stage fish monsters. Three of these she’d fed to the Blackstorm Dragon, who now had a mouth stained red from the feast. Noticing Xia Yu departing with her catch, the Blackstorm Dragon stood and followed her. Wang Ningning and Xu Hao had already left as a team at dinner, so now only Cheng Yuan remained at this stretch of riverbank.

Cheng Yuan tossed prepared charcoal into the grill, lit it, and began roasting fish. The little tiger, watching his movements, licked its paws hungrily. The scent of fish was irresistible, though after eating so much fresh fish, it was already full.

Cheng Yuan watched the fish on the rack intently. The milky-white flesh gleamed under the firelight, lustrous as pearl. It was his first time grilling fish; his only requirement was that it be cooked through.

After a while, the little tiger noticed the fish was starting to burn and nudged Cheng Yuan. “It’s almost done—eat it quickly!” Nodding, Cheng Yuan took the fish from the rack and placed it in a bowl, chewing a piece. Instantly his expression changed. “Pffft—” he spit it out. The taste was atrocious. Even with seasonings, the overwhelming fishiness and ruinous char could not be masked. He tossed the fish into the water with a splash—let the fish serve as bait; it was simply inedible.

He resumed grilling. Meanwhile, in the water below, a small four-legged aquatic monster noticed the falling piece of meat and bit into it without hesitation, tearing off a chunk and swallowing. But minutes later, the monster spat it out, staring at the meat in confusion. In all its life, it had never encountered flesh it couldn’t eat. After a few more tries, it finally gave up, just as a chunk of bloody fish meat splashed into the water.

Cheng Yuan glanced at the sky—he’d fish a bit longer, then leave. He was curious about what nocturnal monsters might emerge, though the mosquitoes were growing more numerous. He hadn’t even eaten dinner; this would be his last cast.

Below the surface, the four-legged creature eyed the floating meat. “Strange, why won’t it sink?” Circling the bait, it made the most regrettable decision of its life.

Cheng Yuan noticed the bobber twitch and began reeling in. The line went taut. He gave it a tug—there was none of the adult-stage brute force that could drag a man into the water, so there was no great concern.

After a ten-minute struggle, Cheng Yuan found himself staring in confusion at a small lizard hooked on the line. “So this instance isn’t just for fishing, after all,” he murmured, watching the little lizard flailing in mid-air. Its nose was at the front of its narrow head, its body long and slender, tail flat—a Marsh Colossus Lizard.

The lizard writhed until it caught sight of a pair of large eyes watching it, and instantly went limp. Cheng Yuan grabbed its belly and unhooked it. Playing dead, the Marsh Colossus Lizard was known for its docility. Once mature, it reached the Sovereign rank—highly adaptable, at home in trees, water, or on land.

Most crucially, it was water-type, Sovereign rank, and amphibious—a perfect fit for Cheng Yuan’s team, a deadly counter to fire-attribute titans like the Explosive Tyrant Turtle. The only pity was that it wasn’t as capable of punching above its rank as a Golden White Tiger. Among Sovereign-class monsters, its combat prowess was above average, but not exceptional.

He dropped the Marsh Colossus Lizard into a chemical drum, covered it with a landing net, and decided not to form a contract just yet—there might be better choices. Hoisting the barrel and his fishing gear onto his back, he left the rest of his belongings in the instance. As long as the instance didn’t reset, nothing would be lost.

Cheng Yuan suspected that the reset mechanism was related to the instance’s name; otherwise, after catching so many adult-stage fish, it should have reset long ago. Carrying the barrel, he entered the cafeteria. His fisherman’s attire quickly drew the attention of West River University students. Cheng Yuan went to the serving window, got a meal—no fish—and, starving after nearly a whole day, found a seat and dug in ravenously.

While eating, he heard a splashing sound and remembered something. Retrieving a chicken drumstick from the window, he returned to his seat. Opening the landing net, he found the Marsh Colossus Lizard lying still. He couldn’t help but laugh, then placed the drumstick on the lizard’s face and gave it a poke.