As dawn broke, the tide receded faster than expected. Chen Hao squatted on the wet sand, holding a piece of dark seaweed root in his hand, his fingers still raw from yesterday's chafing.
"You think this thing can really withstand the waves?" He poked at the corner of the newly tied net. "I don't want to see my three months of hard work being swept away by the sea and dancing like a street dancer."
Nana stood to the side, her mechanical eye scanning the four corner anchor points of the fishing net. "The adhesive has penetrated the fiber structure, increasing the tensile strength by 39%. The main reason for the last loss was loose anchor points; this time, three stable reef crevices have been marked."
“You’re making me even more worried,” he muttered as he stood up, patting his pants. “When someone says ‘absolutely foolproof,’ a shark is sure to fall from the sky the next second.”
"Sharks do not have the habit of falling from the air."
"I'm just giving an example."
"It is recommended to stop using hypothetical expressions that cannot be verified."
The two exchanged a glance, and Chen Hao grinned, picking up the torch and the makeshift net. "Alright, I won't say anything more—but in my heart, I've already bought a wreath for this net."
The fishing nets had been dragged to the edge of the shallows, and as the tide receded, they spread them out between two protruding rocks. The seawater was only chest-deep, but the deeper they went, the softer the mud became, each step feeling like walking on a bloated bun.
"Let it sink another five centimeters on the left," Nana reminded from the shore. "The current current is skewed southeast, so we need to adjust the angle of the force."
"Are you really not afraid of getting tired?" Chen Hao said, panting as he adjusted the ropes. "I'm practically an exhibit in a clay art exhibition, and you're still conducting a symphony."
"The precision of your movements affects the fishing efficiency."
"So I'm the craftsman, and you're the foreman?"
"I am an auxiliary system."
"You're talking like I'm the one who pays your salary."
Finally, having tucked the last piece into the crevice, Chen Hao wiped the salt from his face and glanced back at the net lying across the shallow water. Sunlight slanted down, and the seaweed swayed with the waves, like green tongues licking it.
"Will it survive tonight?" he asked.
“The probability is 60% or 70%,” Nana said. “If there is no strong current disturbance at night and the target fish enter the netting area as scheduled, the success rate of the first catch can reach the expected value.”
"Sixty or seventy percent? You might as well just say you're flipping a coin."
"The probability of a coin landing on heads or tails is equal, and this decision is based on a model of seventeen environmental parameters."
"Then you'd better not tell me the specific number, it'll affect your mood."
He flexed his wrists and turned to walk towards the equipment piled up on the shore. "The torch has been checked, the waterproof coating is intact; the snorkel is clear; the net has passed the weight-bearing test." Nana handed him a long-handled torch stuck in a metal tube. "The estimated dive time is no more than eighteen minutes. I will use a sonic beacon to guide you back along the path."
"Couldn't you just make a buoy light? Why do I have to carry a barbecue grill into the sea?"
"Energy is limited, so we must prioritize ensuring core functions."
"You robots always manage to make being stingy sound like a philosophy."
He bit down on the snorkel, holding a torch in one hand and a net in the other, and slowly waded into deeper water. The water gradually rose to his neck, and a chill crept up his spine. He took a deep breath and dived down.
It was quieter underwater than I had imagined.
The torchlight cast a hazy, yellowish glow on the water, illuminating just a few meters ahead. Dense thickets of seaweed grew like an inverted forest, their leaves swaying gently with the undercurrent. A fishing net stretched a straight line down the middle, like a scar forcibly carved into this green curtain.
He swam along the edge of the net, his eyes fixed on each node. Thankfully, it wasn't broken. Nor was it deformed. In fact... it was starting to look somewhat real.
Suddenly, there was a commotion on the left.
A group of small, silvery-white fish suddenly burst out of the algae, darting wildly along the mesh of the net, as if startled by something. Before Chen Hao could react, a stronger current of water pushed him forward from behind.
He reached out and grabbed the net rope to steady himself, almost dropping the torch.
"A sudden change in local water flow has been detected," Nana's voice came through the underwater communication module. "It may be due to the convergence of bottom currents. We recommend surfacing immediately."
"Wait!" he whispered, though he knew no one was listening. "I saw something!"
Not far ahead, several large fish swam slowly, their bodies gleaming with a bluish-gray sheen and their tail fins tinged with blue. They lingered near the net opening, seemingly testing the waters.
“This is a subspecies of bass, currently in its spawning migration phase,” Nana analyzed. “The water quality, including oxygen content, salinity, and temperature, all meet its reproductive preferences, and the net placement was chosen correctly.”
"So... does that mean our net can actually catch something?"
"The theory holds true, but practice needs to verify it."
"Stop with the jargon, all I want to say is—Hao Ge Seafood, open for business!"
He cautiously approached the net opening, intending to check if anyone had already crawled inside. But after taking only two steps, his foot suddenly slipped, and he stepped into a soft mud pit. He lost his balance, and as he fell backward, the edge of his helmet hit the rocks with a dull thud.
Immediately afterwards, a chill seeped in along my neck.
broken.
He quickly reached up to press the edge of his helmet, but the impact loosened the seal, and seawater was slowly seeping in. The snorkel was still usable, but time was running out.
"Warning, there is a leak in the head unit." Nana's voice became more urgent. "Evacuate immediately."
"Give me ten seconds!" He gripped the net rope tightly, his other hand reaching for the net bag at his waist. "Just ten seconds!"
He stared at the group of fish still swimming nearby, steeled his resolve, and lunged forward to intercept them. The net grazed the tail of a large fish, but he missed. Just as he was about to pull away, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a flash of blue light at the bottom of the algae.
It's not a reflection.
It was posted by myself.
He followed the flashlight beam and parted a few strands of seaweed—a half-meter-long eel-shaped creature was gliding along the reef, its body glowing with a faint blue-purple hue, and tiny sparks of electricity occasionally bursting from its skin.
"What the hell is this?!" he blurted out.
"High-risk biometric identification complete." Nana's voice tightened instantly. "Mutant electric eel, possessing the ability to discharge nerve impulses. Contact may cause muscle paralysis or cardiac arrhythmia. Abandon contact immediately!"
But it was too late.
The creature seemed to sense the movement, suddenly twisting its body and charging towards him. Chen Hao instinctively waved his torch to block, but the electric eel stopped abruptly less than thirty centimeters away from him, flicking its tail and causing the entire body of water to tremble violently.
He felt a numbness in his arm and almost let go.
"Forced recall procedure initiated." Nana's voice turned icy. "Three, two—"
"Stop counting! I'm going!" He gritted his teeth, turned around, and struggled to swim, dragging the net along. The numbness was still spreading, but he dared not stop and could only desperately swim towards the shallows.
The moment he surfaced, he gasped for breath; water had already reached his ears from inside his helmet. He ripped it off, shook his head, and still clutched the torch tightly in his hand.
Nana was already waiting for him on the shore. The robotic arm unfolded a waterproof cloth. "Get ashore and immediately remove your dehumidifying gear."
"I'm lucky I wasn't electrocuted." He climbed onto the beach, his legs still trembling. "But... I managed to get some."
He opened the net bag.
The electric eel was curled up at the bottom, its body still glowing faintly. Each tiny twitch brought out a ring of pale blue electric current, leaping through the damp mesh.
Nana immediately took a half step back, her pupils switching to scanning mode. "Confirmed to be a highly active individual. We recommend using a non-contact electromagnetic shielding container for transfer."
"Couldn't you have asked if it was edible first?" Chen Hao rubbed his arms, trying to shake off the lingering numbness. "I was starving, and I finally caught a big one, and you're telling me it's dangerous?"
"Its toxins can be decomposed by high temperatures, but this requires precise temperature control and removal of internal organs, which is not currently feasible."
"So that means it's edible?"
"Theoretically, yes."
"That settles it then." He grinned, though his face was still a little pale. "Brother Hao's seafood debut today has yielded a mysterious glowing eel king. We recommend adding it to the menu as a special recommendation—'High Voltage Electricity Set Meal'."
Nana didn't smile, but her mechanical fingers gently touched his shoulder. "Your body temperature has dropped by 0.8 degrees. I suggest you change into dry clothes."
“You keep thinking about the data, I need to celebrate first.” He stood up, supporting himself on his knees, and picked up the net. “Although we didn’t catch any bass, this thing looks valuable. Maybe we can use it as a night light to save on electricity.”
He took two steps forward and then suddenly stopped.
"Speaking of which... were those bass chased away by this thing?"
Nana nodded. "Electric field interference can affect the behavioral patterns of most fish, especially sensitive species."
"So our net isn't catching any fish because there's a security guard standing at the entrance?"
"The logic holds true."
Chen Hao looked down at the quietly glowing creature in the net and suddenly felt that the sea breeze wasn't so cold anymore.
"Fine, you win," he said softly. "But next time you're turning away customers, could you at least give me a heads-up?"
He carried the net bag toward the camp, his steps a little unsteady, but his shoulders were ramrod straight.
Nana followed behind, the machine humming softly as it continuously monitored the life fluctuations within the container.
A crack appeared in the clouds on the horizon, letting in sunlight that shone on the wet fishing net. Water droplets rolled down, like someone quietly winking.
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