Ken rented a fifteen-foot-long fishing boat the next morning and set out to fish in a large river near the city. To look for better fishing spots, he cast his Life-seeker spell first. Unlike before, he succeeded within two attempts. There was a large gathering of aquatic life around a bend in the river ahead.
When Ken reached the bend, he found two other beastmen fishing there, on a boat much larger than his, with better equipments too. But they weren't mages. Both men were probably in a subcategory of the Warrior Class. One of them wielded a fishing rod that had an unnaturally large hook attached to the line. He was swinging it around like a whip without placing any bait on the hook.
The other Beastman had to be a scout. His eyes had an unnerving glow to them as he surveyed the waters by leaning over from the boat, lightly poking at the waves and seemingly listening to the activity beneath the waves.
Neither parties were pleased to meet each other. The fishing rod wielder swung his rod harder in the air, holding Ken's gaze as it produced loud whipping sounds. The other guy bared his teeth aggressively and tried to shoo Ken away.
Ken conjured up a fireball in his palm and bounced it up and down a few times, as if weighing whether he could throw it at them. The two beastmen immediately looked away and quietened down.
Ken's focus returned to the task at hand. He had already paddled across the area with the most dense life signatures. It was the outer bend of the river where all sorts of food and waste from the city must have piled up due to the surging water.
Ken used a Sandworm Totem Spell to conjure a popular bait out of thin air, and hung it on his fishing hook. Then he dropped it into the water and waited. The totem worm moved according to his commands, letting everything around it sense its existence.
Thirty seconds later, something began to nibble at it. A minute later, the floater sank as the prey tried to grab the worm in its mouth and run away. Ken decisively pulled the rod back.
An impressively large, palm-sized fish flew up from the water, still biting onto the worm. Ken didn't know what type of fish it was, but he could tell that it was a predatory one. The large jaw filled with razor-sharp teeth had punched two rows of holes in his Sandworm Totem. Its vitality had hit rock bottom.
Thankfully, Ken had an adequate supply of Sandworm totems, because the hideout was filled work them, and he had practiced his Totemic magic on them for multiple sessions.
Placing the furiously flopping fish inside a water-filled bucket, Ken used the same maneuver again. But this time, the fish must have been too strong, because Ken's Sandworm Totem was torn away from the hook before he could tug back.
For a moment, Ken paused, deciding to opt for a new strategy. He looked at the fish in his bucket and began to cast totemization spells. His success rate in this type of spell was low due to his lack of experience. After four tries, a fish totem finally appeared in the water beside the real fish, stunning it for a second.
"Yeah, that might work," he muttered to himself. He would use this new strategy tomorrow. Today, he could only resort to the Sandworm Totem baits.
Time passed fast. The peak noon came and went. Many more boats joined them in the river bend, while some traveled further to more remote corners for a better chance. But Ken didn't move.
For some strange reason, the fish here didn't seem to be afraid of being scooped away by so many fishermen. They continued to gather in the area, nearly all of them sticking close to the riverbed twenty meters below the boats.
Ken didn't know what was attracting them. The fish didn't spend too long in any particular spot, merely roaming the area and stopping to nibble on food from time to time. He was satisfied with the haul, though. He couldn't complain that the fish were behaving oddly. Even the fishermen around him seemed used to it. Ken heard many partners chatting about how they had cleared a big shoal of fish once in one sitting last week, or how they had caught the biggest types, a twenty-kilo Sturgeon, with a broken rod.
[ 3 Failures away from burnout ]
The thought popped into his consciousness as he conjured another Sandworm Totem. Two of his buckets were full to the brim with his haul. Ken decided that it was time to leave. Walking around outside while being three failures away from falling unconscious wasn't a good idea. He already felt a faint throbbing pain surfacing in his head.
Catching the last fish, he dismissed the Totem spell and began to peddle back to the boat-renting outpost. However, just when he was about to leave the river bend, he noticed another boat coming towards his. The two men on it were the same unfriendly duo he had met in the morning.
"Friend, are you new to this river?" The man with the rod said the moment he came close enough to speak at a low volume and still be heard.
"Yes. Is there something I should know?" Ken asked bluntly.
"Kind of, yeah. We just wanted to warn ya so that you can prepare ahead of time. When you reach the outpost, they'll demand a share of your haul under the name of protection fee. Don't make a ruckus and hand it over if you want to avoid trouble. Didn't you suspect it when you saw how low the renting rate was compared to the other rivers nearby? That's how they draw rookies in."
"Why would you think I'm unaware of that unwritten rule? Anyone can find out about it if they ask around, can't they?" Ken asked, puzzled.
"Because firstly, no one who hands them a share is allowed to leak the news. Otherwise they'll blacklist you and your family from ever entering any river again to fish. They have that kind of power, they do. It's like being forced to join a club. You won't dare to cancel the membership. And secondly, you were using magic to fish. That's a big rookie mistake, my friend."