Chapter 66: The Marvelous Use of the Ripple Card

Therefore, in his previous life, a high-level angler was as respected as a top scientist. Whenever guilds or small teams came upon a fishing hole, unless they already had an angler among them, they would guard the spot and spend money to hire a master angler, maximizing their potential gains.

The more they paid, the higher the level of angler they could hire, and the greater the chance of reeling in something valuable. Of course, there were risks involved—spending a fortune might still yield only a handful of mundane items. Even the most skilled angler could not avoid such outcomes; no matter how refined the technique, luck always played a part.

Thus, in his previous life, anglers had two ways of charging for their services. One was a flat fee offered by the employer, say a thousand coins; whatever was caught, regardless of value, belonged to the employer, and the angler received only the set amount. This method was a gamble: if nothing was caught, the employer lost out, but if a rare or legendary item was hooked, they could make a fortune.

The other method involved no upfront cost: instead, the angler was allowed to take the best item caught as payment. This ensured that the employer risked nothing, but if a priceless item was caught, they could only watch as the angler claimed it. Both methods had their own merits and drawbacks.

Undoubtedly, whatever the arrangement, the higher the skill of the angler, the lower the chances of a loss. To reach higher levels, anglers had to continually fish and hone their expertise. Many novice anglers charged little, hoping for more opportunities to increase their proficiency.

There was once a famously skilled angler known as Grandmaster Jiang. He had obtained the angler’s secondary profession at the very onset of the apocalypse and spent an entire year fishing for others for free, never charging a single coin.

Though he lived in poverty during that time, often ridiculed when he failed to catch anything, and even occasionally beaten, his perseverance paid off. After a year of lying low, his skills improved tremendously, and he became the first human angler to attain the rank of Fishing Grandmaster.

From then on, his status transformed. He was constantly invited to fish, whisked about with costly teleportation scrolls, amassing a fortune in a short time.

Within half a year, with countless treasures and wealth at his disposal, he forcibly leveled up, becoming the sixth Legendary Hero after the Five Supremes—an achievement that astonished the world.

Shaking his head, Kong Zhe brushed away these chaotic thoughts and turned his attention to the present.

His eyes burned with anticipation as he gazed at the fishing pool before him, which could be used five times—medium-sized as such things went. Smaller pools allowed only three attempts, larger ones as many as eight or nine.

After five attempts, the fishing pool would vanish. What troubled Kong Zhe now was whether he should try his luck himself.

He was, after all, an ordinary person. If he were to fish, landing two catches out of five would already be quite good, and even then, those two might just be common fish. Even if he were lucky enough to catch a treasure fish, it might only yield a white-tier item—hardly worth squandering five precious attempts.

But where could he find an angler at such a time? The apocalypse had only just begun; it was unlikely anyone had acquired that secondary profession yet.

Yet he had no choice but to try. He would be leaving tomorrow and could not stay here to guard the spot. After all, the fishing hole was not his alone—if he left, someone else would soon discover it, and then there would be nothing left for him.

With no other options, Kong Zhe decided to do it himself. Even if he didn’t catch anything valuable, it was better than leaving the opportunity to others.

Sitting by the small lake, he pondered the principles of an angler’s craft before beginning, hoping to glean some insight.

In his previous life, he had a friend who was an apprentice angler. From him, Kong Zhe had learned about the angler’s methods. When fishing, a circular ripple pattern would appear at the center of the angler’s interface. The angler needed only to time their actions according to the frequency of the ripples: the highest frequency typically coincided with a fish taking the bait. Kong Zhe surmised that more advanced anglers might even receive color cues on their interface, allowing them to catch treasure fish more consistently.

But what was the point of understanding the theory? Could he possibly emulate an angler’s process... Wait!

Kong Zhe suddenly froze. The ripple pattern, the frequency of vibrations—these terms felt intimately familiar, evoking a strong sense of déjà vu.

Then, realization dawned in his eyes.

The Waterwave Card!

Wasn’t its principle just like that of the angler’s method?

The underlying mechanism was, in essence, sensing the magical fluctuations within the water. When the magic reached its peak, it was time to pull in the line.

Since it was all about perceiving magical oscillations, his Waterwave Card could serve perfectly, perhaps even more effectively than the prompts available to a real angler.

The more he considered it, the more excited he became. He wanted to try it immediately, but knew that such agitation was ill-suited to the fine art of fishing. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

Once composed, Kong Zhe carefully surveyed his surroundings to ensure he would not be disturbed. Satisfied, he sat again by the lake and gripped the sapphire-blue Waterwave Card.

Drawing a deep breath, he activated the Waterwave skill on the fishing hole.

A chime sounded: “Fishing hole detected. Five attempts remaining. Begin fishing?”

“Yes!”

As Kong Zhe confirmed, a translucent fishing rod appeared in his hand. Simultaneously, a thin blue thread extended from his body, stretching out over the surface of the lake.

Magical energy began to flow from within him toward the fishing hole, and at last, Kong Zhe experienced the discomfort of having magic drained from his body. It felt as if a tiny worm was wriggling inside him—a most unpleasant sensation.

At the same time, as the blue thread reached the fishing hole, Kong Zhe could clearly sense the various fluctuations within. The surges were so intense, it was as if he’d put on headphones and accidentally maxed out the volume—an overwhelming cacophony that left his mind buzzing.

He quickly reduced the flow of magic, slower and slower, until the thread was as thin as a hair, at which point he reached an optimal state.

Clearly, being too sensitive to the vibrations was not ideal; moderation was key. Fortunately, with the Waterwave skill, he could fine-tune the frequency of magic like adjusting a radio, finding the perfect channel—a distinct advantage over the anglers’ fixed-frequency prompts.

At this hair-thin level of magic output, his consumption was minimal; he could easily maintain it for two or three hours, provided no one disturbed him. Earlier, he had sent his little dog to scout the area, so he would be warned if anyone approached.

With his eyes closed, Kong Zhe focused intently on the fluctuations in his mind. To him, the magic waves in the fishing hole appeared like a precise waveform diagram.

He needed only to wait quietly for the wave to reach its crest before pulling up the rod.

Kong Zhe waited patiently. At a certain moment, he opened his eyes abruptly.

He lifted the rod.

"Not good!"

Seeing a small, lively fish wriggling on the hook, Kong Zhe cursed inwardly and gave a wry smile. As expected, his lack of experience showed. Though he’d acted as the wave peaked, there was still a delay between reeling in and the fish surfacing, and that brief interval caused him to miss the optimal timing.

Still, even with that initial blunder, at least he’d caught something. For a first attempt, that was already a good result.

Shaking his head, Kong Zhe examined his catch.

A small Azurelight Fish: consuming it immediately removes all negative statuses and permanently increases Intelligence by three.

Not bad—the ability to remove negative effects could be a lifesaver in many situations.

Nodding slightly, he put the fish away, steadied himself, and began his second attempt.

With the benefit of experience, Kong Zhe was much more composed, and soon, a second fish was on the line.

When he saw the Crimson Phosphor Fish, he couldn’t suppress a smile. At last, he had caught a treasure fish.

These Crimson Phosphor Fish were treasure fish, as his friend had once told him. Moreover, he could sense a strong magical aura from this one—an amount of magic that was far from ordinary, certainly above blue tier.

Could it be that he had been so lucky as to draw a gold-tier item on his second try?

His heart pounding, Kong Zhe used his dagger to open the fish’s belly.

A chime sounded: “Congratulations, you have obtained a treasure fish containing a purple material: ‘Abyssal Tentacle Hide.’”

Looking at the strip of purple hide in his hand, Kong Zhe couldn’t help but smile ruefully. Was he being too optimistic? Gold-tier items were not so easily obtained.

Although purple items were rare and valuable, it was unfortunate that he had drawn a material.

Unlike the extremely valuable gemstones, materials were of little use without a suitable secondary profession. Even precious materials could only be sold for coins, so their worth was far less than that of equipment of the same tier.

This piece of purple material hailed from the Abyss, and though it was worth a decent sum, it was only about equal to a blue-tier piece of equipment.

Shaking his head, he reassured himself—there were still three chances left.

With this thought, Kong Zhe began his third attempt.