pertwk Chapter 8 Fishing
Chapter 8 Fishing
The AI was thrilled: "What an amazing conquest! To have taken control of a planet so easily!"
To bring a civilization to its knees with just a few images is almost unimaginable in the history of Planet VI.
The war-mongering AI recalled the Empire's past conquests—often requiring the slaughter of nearly half the planet's inhabitants to force the enemy to submit—and was immediately struck by the ingenuity of Isaac's methods.
It couldn't help but ask, "How did Your Majesty know that the civilizations of this universe would be so compliant?"
Isaac smiled and said, "Perhaps it is because I am the chosen one that I should have something different about me."
"You are extraordinary enough, Your Majesty. The late King would surely be proud of you—my God, this is a whole new universe!"
Isaac breathed a sigh of relief; thankfully, things hadn't gotten to the worst possible point.
He was prepared to make further military displays in the event of a break, such as destroying the military bases of the most militarily powerful nation on the planet.
In Guangzhou, near the mudflats by Luhu Park, several anglers are baiting their hooks. They gathered here early in the morning, determined to have a showdown.
They put down their fishing rods, set up a radio, and gathered three or four men together. The conversation inevitably veered towards world affairs.
"Did you see the meeting a few days ago? The aliens look exactly like us."
"Superman, that emperor of the Witrum Empire is quite handsome, one of the most handsome guys in the whole area. Like that... that mixed-race guy, mixed-race guys are all good-looking." The guy with the radio also came over.
Even now, none of them know each other's names, but they're already chatting enthusiastically.
"An interstellar empire, that sounds impressive! I just wonder what its social structure is like; it sounds like a feudal empire."
"It's not that tall. Actually, it's still a slave society," interjected the well-mannered young man wearing black-rimmed glasses.
The old man looked at the young man and said, "Hey, you're a foreigner, but you speak Chinese quite fluently."
The young man patted his chest and deliberately adopted a translator's tone: "I love the University of Tokyo. This country is amazing. I love it here so much. I must have been a student of the University of Tokyo in my past life."
"You have good taste. Are you an English teacher in Guangzhou?" A guy with a Nikon camera gave a thumbs up.
"How did you know?" Isaac smiled.
"The foreigners are all English teachers," another fisherman laughed.
CCTV reports: Recently, the conflict in the Middle East is expected to be resolved, and the Prime Minister of Weixing has expressed strong concern about the war in the Middle East on Earth.
The Prime Minister issued a statement saying that such acts of genocide are contrary to the vision of building a better world.
"Even the head of state expressed his surprise..." The radio broadcast the news at the appointed time.
"The West has really lost face now," the old man clicked his tongue.
"Free aid? There's no such thing as a free lunch." The guy taking pictures of birds lowered his voice. "Have you seen The Matrix? They give you a treat first, then keep you captive as a biological battery."
"What if they really are from the same hometown?" The old man cast his line again, the line drawing a silvery arc in the air. "Isn't everyone saying that there was a supernatural civilization in ancient times?"
The epic battles between gods in Investiture of the Gods might very well have been interstellar wars.
These Witrum people might just be the same group that fled after their defeat back then.
Isaac followed his words, speaking in a relaxed tone as if they were talking about breakfast: "They are descendants of the Shang Dynasty. They lost to an ancient civilization and left their homeland to colonize the universe."
Now that I've made it big, I'm coming back to see how my relatives back home are doing—and incidentally, to stage a triumphant return, a homecoming of wealth and honor.
The fishermen all laughed, and even the middle-aged man who had been staring at the float couldn't help but speak up: "These big things are none of our business. We're earning a monthly salary of three thousand and worrying about world affairs." He shook his head.
The fisherman glanced at Isaac's fish basket and exclaimed, "How do you have so many fish?"
Everyone stood up, and saw that the net was crammed full of more than a dozen fish: "Holy crap, we've got a ton of fish!"
"Actually, I'm a super Witrum guy, hiding my identity to fish."
"The goal is to hook fish directly at super speed, without any bait, to utterly crush you airdrops." Isaac flicked his rod, raising his eyebrows.
"That foreigner is quite humorous."
Amidst the envious glances of the air force pilots, Isaac released the fish back into the water: "I'm going to check out other fishing spots."
He walked to a secluded spot, took off his ordinary black-rimmed glasses, and the frames transformed into flowing silver nanoparticles in his palm, seeping into his gray jacket like fine sand.
Under the basic function of the biofield, the superposition of optical distortion and cognitive interference makes him appear to people as an "ordinary foreign youth".
Even if the news repeatedly showed images of the emperor wearing a cosmic cloak and standing on the bridge of a starship, no one would connect the two at this moment.
His battle suit was once again fully covered, and he leaped into the darkening sky to tour the world.
On the east coast of Australia, a dozen humpback whales are stranded in shallow waters. Even before the tide comes in, their backs are already scorching hot from the sun.
Isaac hovered in the air, his suit arms extending out an invisible force field that gently lifted these bodies weighing tens of tons.
The whales slowly glided into the deep water, their spouts reflecting rainbows in the sunlight. They emitted low, drawn-out calls that traveled through the seawater like a long, drawn-out thank you.
Turning north, over Russia, a passenger plane is plummeting, trailing black smoke.
The cockpit alarm blared, the captain slumped in his seat, reeking of alcohol. Isaac frowned—so Slavic.
He braced the fuselage, slowing the plane down and allowing it to land like a feather at a nearby airport. As the passengers fled in panic, he glanced at the Boeing logo on the tail from high above: Boeing… It’s you again.
On his return journey, he also elbowed the ground in Sichuan and Chongqing, stopping an earthquake.
After his tour, he returned to another secluded spot on the shore of the park. The grass was soft and damp with dew.
Isaac lay down, his fishing rod casually placed beside him.
Even with eyes closed, the super senses continue to receive the deluge of information from the world.
In his previous life, as one of the ordinary people, he thought the world was generally peaceful. Now he realizes that disasters and miracles happen every minute and every second, but humans are too small to see them.
Three days ago, he noticed some movement at the "entrance" he had come from.
In the distant depths of space, blue crystals are slowly absorbing cosmic radiation, forming a sharply defined structure.
It resembled a growing fortress, or perhaps the foundation of some kind of boundary gate. The vortex-like energy flow pulsed rhythmically, its activation uncertain.
I lay down on the grass with my eyes half-closed; the fishermen of the morning had already left the air force camp.
A gentle breeze caressed his face, carrying the faint scent of fresh grass, and the sunlight shone on him, making him feel drowsy.
This is his dream daily life: being a superhero for fun.
"Are you fishing?" The voice was very soft, like a feather falling on your ear.
Isaac opened his eyes and saw an upside-down face—pale, delicate, with long black hair cascading down like a waterfall.
The girl leaned down to look at him, the cross necklace on her chest hanging above his nose, swaying slightly with her breath.
Isaac sat up, twirling the fishing rod in his hand: "I'm just letting those who want to take the bait do so."
The girl sat down naturally beside him, the black parasol resting on her shoulder, its tip lightly touching the grass.
She was wearing a tank top and ripped jeans, with gothic eyeliner outlining a musical note-shaped curve at the corner of her right eye.
This outfit should have been out of place, but she exuded a strange tranquility, like a sound-absorbing velvet cloth, which suddenly quieted the noisy world in Isaac's mind.
"Can you teach me?" she asked, pointing to the fishing rod with the curiosity of a child.
Isaac demonstrates baiting, casting, and watching the float.
The girl studied diligently. Of course, more than ten minutes passed, and the float remained completely still.
"Are you also from abroad?" Isaac asked.
"I guess so. I came from a very far place and just arrived in Guangzhou today." The girl reached out and touched the river water, the water slipping through her fingers like time that cannot be grasped.
"But I'll only be staying for one day."
"That's a pity. The morning tea, stews, street-side beef offal in Guangzhou... and the night view of the Pearl River are all worth seeing."
"I will cherish this day." She withdrew her hand, water droplets dripping from her fingertips. "Every second is precious."
The girl closed her umbrella as the sun began to set.
"It's time to go." She stood up, her jeans stained with grass clippings, but she didn't care. "Thank you for teaching me how to fish."
"Actually, you didn't teach her anything," Isaac said, standing up as well. "You didn't catch a single fish."
"But I caught something else." She blinked, and the notes in her eyes seemed to dance along with it.
She turned and walked into the twilight, her figure blurring at the edge of the reeds before finally disappearing from sight.