God of Fishing Chapter 3: Strength Matters Most

Demon Purification Pot

User: Han Fei

Rank: Level Two (Beginner Fisher)

Spiritual Energy: 48 (48)

Spiritual Heritage: Level One, Incomplete (Upgradeable)

Primary Art: Soul Fishing (Repairable)

Han Fei stared in disbelief. The Demon Purification Pot? He wondered about the strange calabash mark on his wrist.

Beside the list of stats, a shimmering "Arts" option caught his attention.

Driven by curiosity, Han Fei selected it.

Current Arts:

Soul Fishing (Incomplete)

Immobilization Level One (Incomplete)

Note: This ancient generic art has suffered damage over time. Restoration requires 1,000 points of spiritual energy.

Han Fei’s eyes sparkled with excitement. Was he truly a child of destiny?

However, his elation was fleeting.

The realization hit him when he compared his measly 48 points of spiritual energy to the required thousand. He was momentarily speechless.

Noticing the "Repairable" status next to the art, he decided to attempt the restoration anyway.

The moment he focused on that thought, his 48 points vanished instantly, and the misty interface faded away.

Gurgle...

“I’m starving!”

The world began to tilt, and Han Fei felt a wave of dizziness. The spiritual energy that had filled him just moments ago was gone.

Stumbling toward the table, he began devouring the leftover clams. Only after finishing every last one did he feel his strength return, with his spiritual energy rising back to 12 points.

To his frustration, the data revealed by the clams was depressing. They were merely level one, barely sufficient to satisfy his hunger.

“Four points is pathetic. And what does this ‘absorbable’ tag mean?”

As the thought crossed his mind, Han Fei sensed something leave the clam in front of him. Checking his status, he saw his spiritual energy had climbed to 16 points.

The information for the clam had completely shifted:

Name: Unfresh Clam Level: One Quality: Poor Spiritual Energy: 0 points Effect: Suitable only for warding off hunger. No other benefits.

“It works like that?”

Han Fei was stunned. Could he simply touch the clams to gain energy without actually eating them?

Restraining himself from touching the remaining stock, he pondered, “Can the Demon Purification Pot pull spiritual energy directly? If so, does that mean infinite energy is possible as long as I have seafood? If it works on clams, would it work on plants or stones?”

He then turned his attention to his Incomplete Level One Spiritual Heritage. Was this the bottleneck preventing his growth?

Glancing at the tank, he considered repairing his Heritage, but he quickly found that this, too, demanded 1,000 points of spiritual energy.

Han Fei felt a headache coming on. Where was he supposed to gather 1,000 points?

He turned his gaze back to the clams.

A few minutes later, after touching every clam, his spiritual energy had reached 52 points.

Wait—could his energy reserves actually exceed his body's natural limit?

The implication shocked him. It meant he could have a bottomless supply of energy if he gathered enough, while others were forced to stop and recover.

The thought was exciting, but Han Fei soon sighed, realizing he was nowhere near having the mountain of seafood required for such a feat.

After clearing away the empty shells, he returned to his bed to begin cultivation.

This time, he didn't dare try to repair an art. He noticed a progress bar that had moved slightly, likely due to the 48 points he had just spent. He looked closer at the updated info.

Current Arts:

Soul Fishing (Incomplete)

Immobilization Level One (Incomplete)

Note: This ancient generic art is damaged. Repair cost: 1,000 spiritual energy.

Evolutionary Art: Void Fishing

Progress: 48/1000

Han Fei clicked his tongue. He would just have to cultivate the old-fashioned way for now.

He assumed a cross-legged position.

The calabash mark flickered on his wrist, though the pain was much milder than before.

During his meditation, he felt a refreshing chill from the air being drawn into his body.

Eventually, deep in his cultivation trance, Han Fei slumped over and drifted into a deep sleep.

CRASH!

The door was kicked open, shattering Han Fei's sleep. A mean-looking, portly man stood there, pointing a finger and shouting, “There you are! Still in bed? Do you think you're some Young Master? Get to the general fishery within the hour! Being sick isn't an excuse to skip work. If you don't hit your quota, don't even think about coming back tonight!”

Han Fei recognized the man as Zhang Han, the local supervisor.

Knowing that a wise man doesn't pick fights he can't win, Han Fei kept his cool. With the Demon Purification Pot, his rise was inevitable; there was no need for conflict yet.

Han Fei stood up and forced a smile. “Supervisor Zhang, we're heading out today?”

“Obviously! You think life is a free ride? You’re lucky the new regulations only require commoners to provide 150 kilograms of fish a day.”

Zhang Han sneered, “But if you miss that 150kg mark, you know what happens. Heavenly Water Village has no room for dead weight. You’ll be left to spend the night on the waves. Think on that.”

Han Fei felt a chill. He knew the penalty for failing the tax was exile. The ocean at night was a death trap filled with aggressive fish. No one survived five nights out there.

Still smiling, he said, “Supervisor Zhang, I’ve lost my pole and bait, so...”

Zhang Han laughed. “That’s easy. I’ll rent you a standard pole and a container of bait for just ten low-quality pearls. Sound fair?”

Han Fei’s hands tightened into fists. The man was blatant about his extortion. A basic pole was only worth three pearls, and bait cost next to nothing in sea coins.

Taking a breath to steady himself, Han Fei replied, “Supervisor Zhang, I only have twenty sea coins. Could I borrow the gear on credit?”

Zhang Han’s face soured. “You should have said you were broke from the start! Not even ten pearls? You’re destined to be a peasant forever... If you end up dead in the water, how will you pay me?”

Despite his grumbling, Zhang Han turned to leave, telling Han Fei to pick up the gear at his shop—though interest would be charged.

Han Fei was fuming inside, but he understood the reality of this world: the strong devour the weak. He would swallow this insult for now and settle the score later.

...

Shortly after, Han Fei arrived at the docks.

Zhang Han was lazily snacking on a small shellfish at his storefront. He grabbed a battered fishing pole and a box of green worms, tossing them toward Han Fei.

“If you weren't still qualified for the Fishing Trial, you'd already be gone,” he muttered. “Go on. And remember, that’s one low-quality pearl in interest every day.”

After completing his registration under the watchful eye of the clerk, Han Fei stepped onto an eight-person transport boat.

“Hold on tight. We’re moving,” a middle-aged man beside him warned.

Despite his memories, Han Fei was still awestruck. The world was breathtaking. The massive sun hung low, painting the entire ocean in shades of crimson.

“Hey! The sun isn't going anywhere. Why aren't you baiting your hook?”

Han Fei looked around to see everyone else preparing their lines with green bait. It was the standard choice for commoners—thick, worm-like creatures.

A youth on the boat glanced at him. “Aren't you the brat who got dragged into the water by a green turtle yesterday?”