Chapter 6 Instead of Becoming an Adventurer I Chose to Fish

I rubbed my eyes, trying to get them to focus. Going over the notes I had taken, all of this did not feel real once again. All of it felt too fantastical and too exciting. It didn’t feel right to be this excited about something right after I lost my home and so many died.

I knew that there were other humans out there, which was still weird, but we from Earth were now an endangered species. There was a tally I was keeping on the bottom corner of my notes. It was for when someone referenced Earth as your Earth or an Earth, like it wasn’t the only one.

There’s a good chance that I have been looking at all of these notes and focusing on the wrong things for too long. Understanding doesn’t come by forcing it, I needed to remember that.

Standing up to get another glass of water, I saw the lake just beyond the wall. There were fewer people there fishing now. I also now knew that they were there to grind levels for the fishing profession. For some reason, they didn’t stay here during the night, even though there was plenty of light to go by.

After I finished draining the glass of water, I put the jacket back on, closed the door behind me, and headed outside. I had not been outside during the night, although it was actually a constant twilight. I wondered if nocturnal animals would like it more here or less because of it.

My destination was the lake, which was about half an hour away if the map scale was accurate. There were no guards at the compound exit.

The pamphlets and orientation never mentioned that you couldn’t be out during the night, and I really hoped that wasn’t just something they expected people to know, that you should never go out during night or something.

I would feel really stupid if I died because of that. Surviving a mana apocalypse only to die later because you decided to take a stroll during the night that wasn’t actually that dark. That’s a bit long to fit on a tombstone, but there is no good way of shortening it.

The buildings were mostly wood, but some did have stone foundations that reached to the second floor. Everything seemed clean, and the streets were well maintained. Along some of the roads, there were even lanterns lighting the walkways.

People were still walking around. No one was giving me weird looks, so I guess it was normal to see us students walk around. When I reached the gate that led out of the town, there were guards there, but the gates were wide open, and no one seemed to want to stop me.

“Excuse me, do the gates close during the night?” I asked one of the guards when I got close enough.

“You’re new?” he asked. I gave him a head nod.

“Yeah, we don’t close them, only when there’s a threat. Do you know the signal for when there’s a threat?”

“Yes, the town bell rings three times,” I answered, repeating what was written in one of the pamphlets.

“That’s exactly right, that’s good. If you’re not comfortable with combat, don’t go into the forest. Otherwise, there’s no restriction.”

“Got it, thank you,” I said with a head bow and walked outside.

The guards were wearing sturdy leather armour and had spears. They also had a sword as a sidearm. Close by to every single guard also seemed to be a shield and a crossbow. They were really well equipped.

For a moment I doubted if I should continue forward. If no one else was there, then I would not stay, but if there was even one other person out there, I think it should be safe.

There was a road to follow, which made things easy. I could already see the lake, so getting lost was impossible. Just in case, I didn’t get too close to the main body of water, as no one else seemed to. There were still a few people around the canal, but all of them seemed to be packing up.

There was one building nearby that looked to be for equipment storage and a roofed-over area where you could clean the fish. Outside, in a box, there were dozens of fishing rods. On a lazy chair quite close by was an older man with a hat covering most of his face.

Pretty sure he was sleeping. There didn’t seem to be any warnings not to take a rod; the only thing written on the box was fishing rods, so I just walked up and started inspecting them.

They seemed to be simple bamboo sticks that were the perfect size for a fishing rod. The connection points were more pronounced than I had seen before in any type of bamboo, so most likely it was some sort of variant. There were holes made into those connection points, and the line was threaded through them.

The line itself seemed to be some natural fiber. There was no reel, just a fixed line that had a metal hook without a barb at one end. As I was testing the sharpness, I almost cut myself too deep; that thing was really sharp.

“Excuse me?” one of the other people said, who had been fishing. I stepped aside and let him put a fishing rod back into the box. I noticed that the hook still had remnants of a worm on it. He was about to walk away when the sleeping man spoke up.

“How many times do I have to tell you that the hooks need to be clean when returning equipment?”

“Sorry, fish master.” He said and immediately cleaned the hook, throwing the leftover worm bits away.

I wondered where he got that worm from.

“If you’re looking for bait, then I’m afraid you’re too late. I take the bait away when the twilight hits. The bluefins rest during the night,” the fish master said while his face was still half covered by his hat.

Well, I didn’t care about catching any fish, but having no bait on would actually feel worse than just not catching any fish. I didn’t paid enough attention to see where he threw those pieces of worm.

Wait. From my pocket, I pulled out a piece of bread. That will work. I pulled one of the rods from the box, then started walking towards the canal. Tearing off a piece of bread, I started to roll it to make a dense ball. As I reached the shore, I pierced the bread ball with the hook.

It seemed to stay on quite well, but it obviously wouldn’t last as long as worms. Once again, that didn’t matter, I just wanted to fish. The water seemed quite dark; the water close to the shore was also filled with water plants, but the rod was just long enough that you could bypass them.

There was no cork to keep the line at a certain depth, but there was only so much line. So just holding the rod up would prevent it from hitting the bottom, unless, of course, the bottom was only a metre deep.

As I was about to cast, I finally noticed that there was no one else around. Damn, did I need to go back? But when I turned around, I noticed that the fish master was still on his chair.

So, there was at least one person around, and he was one of the instructors, so he should know if it’s safe or not.

The hook made a satisfying sound as it hit the water. I hadn’t fished so primitively for quite a while. Like this, I just stood there, letting the sounds of nature take over, not thinking about anything, just keeping an eye on my fishing rod to see if there was any bite.

It felt like about half an hour went by when I felt just the tiniest pull. The rod tip ever so slightly started to move. Then a yank, I pulled back, not too hard but enough to set the hook. I needed to remember that the hook didn’t have a barb, so I needed to constantly hold tension.

“Pull it out fast!” I heard someone say behind me, scaring me enough that I almost fell into the water, if he hadn’t grabbed the back of my jacket and pulled me back.

 Glancing back, I saw that it was the fish master. The fish really started to pull now. I pulled the fishing rod hard just as he said, trying to get the fish out in one go.

As soon as it was out of the water, the fish felt a lot lighter. I was totally surprised to be looking at only a six-inch fish. That fish had felt so much more powerful, like it was easily a metre long.

“Well done, you were patient enough. That’s rare to see. Come, let’s get it killed and cleaned.”

“Yeah, of course,” I said back and started to follow him.

The fish was still thrashing around, but I brought it a bit closer. I could see where it got its name, as fins were blue. Otherwise, it was really similar to a bluefin, but its body height proportions were shorter.

“Why did it feel like it was a bigger fish?” I asked, more to myself than anyone else, but the fish master answered.

“They originate from a higher world and have managed to keep a portion of the membrane that deals with swimming through water.”

It took me a few moments to understand what he meant. “So wait, they have a better way of interacting with water, which makes them stronger swimmers than should be possible normally?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it. You got a name?”

“Yes, sorry, fish master. It’s Ray.”

“My name is Aaron. It’s nice to meet someone who can actually fish and isn’t just here to grind the profession level. I assume you know how to clean a fish?”

“Yes,” I answered. We had reached the roofed-over area. It looked quite modern in terms of fish cleaning areas. There was even running water and a big sink. Next to it, on a string, was a mallet and what looked like a wickedly sharp knife.

“Kill the fish while it’s still on the hook, or you could lose one of your fingers,” he instructed, as I was about to try to hold the fish and take the hook out.

The mallet killed it easily enough, and when I was about to take the knife to gut it, there was a strange feeling that burst out from inside me. I dropped the fish into the sink and took a few steps back, feeling the world not spin, but become more focused somehow.

“Already a level up. That’s a story I would like to hear. I wouldn’t think there would have been a lot of time during the rescue for you to fish?”

Those words helped me understand what had happened. Wait, how did he know that I’m a refugee? Then I looked down at my wrists; I had pulled my sleeves up to not get them wet or dirty.

It took me a few moments to center myself as the memories flashed back of what happened. I went back to gut the fish. That centered me once again.

“I was in an isolated place testing fishing gear. Hooked something big, fought it for a few hours. It seemed to grow bigger constantly. It eventually charged out, and I managed to kill it with a harpoon gun. It got me a class slot.”

Aaron whistled at that. “That’s damn impressive and lucky. No wonder you immediately got a profession level. You were probably pretty close. Most likely you could have easily hit level 10 fishing if most of the membrane transfer didn’t go into boosting your own until you could have a class slot.”

“Wouldn’t it be dangerous to level up so fast?”

He just waved his hand at that. “Early levels come extremely fast. Now, if you were level 50 fishing and got to level 60 in one go, then you’d be screwed, but the system helps manage that. It would have rejected most of the experience.”

He gave me a few pointers and showed me how to clean this particular fish. In just 5 minutes it was done, and I felt something again, but a lot less intense.

“Did I get experience from that as well?” I asked.

“Yes, of course, you changed its form once again. Cutting it up further won’t give much, as that part of its membrane is already quite drained. If you were to cook it, you could get a bit more, but that experience would go to the cooking professional.”

“So it’s not possible to continuously keep going. What about ore or wax, could you endlessly keep making something, then melt it down and remake it?”

“A good question, and something I am not a lecturer of. There are better people to explain this, but the answer is yes and no, because it depends on the situation.”

“Most of the time it’s no, the membrane wouldn’t survive multiple attempts to change its form. But if you leave it for long enough or impart a part of your own, but both of those are really not viable.”

“Thanks for the explanation.” It would make sense that there wouldn’t be such a loophole. I started to look around to see if there was any place to cook the meat.

“Yeah, that’s a no. We aren’t cooking these. Those go in that chute there. These are for animal feed, you can also not sell them. Workshops have their own rules. I suggest you look them up before you go anywhere else.”

That was a bit disappointing, but I guess it made sense.

“Also, you really should visit a build-guide lecture before continuing to level up. In fact, that level you got might be bad for your future development, as everything affects what class you might get and what types of skills.”

Damn, I didn’t even know that. Looking back towards the canal and the way it felt to fish.  Yeah, I will most definitely need to go through those lectures so I know what’s actually going on, then I can fish without any worry.

“Thanks, Aaron. Others called you Fish Master, is that a title you get from being in a fishing guild or something?”

“Boy, you really are new. No, I am an adventurer,” he said, pulling out what looked like a dog tag that was silver in colour.

“If you’re from the Adventurers Guild, why don’t you have that symbol on your chest?”

“Oh, that’s only when you’re in active duty. That means you are directly taking orders from the Adventurers Guild. For each rank, there’s a minimum number of years of service required. Otherwise, you’re free to do whatever you want, unless there is an emergency and you’re called to action.”

“Oh, okay. The Adventurers Guild seems quite huge. Are there other guilds as huge, like a Fishing Guild or something?”

He burst out laughing. “Quite huge? As huge? That’s a good joke.” He eventually calmed down enough to speak properly.

“There is no other guild like the Adventurers Guild. The Adventurers Guild is the only guild that spans every world. Professional guilds are world-based. In more populated worlds there are multiple of the same type of profession guilds. They often compete with each other.”

“Really, so how many members are in the Adventurers Guild, is that known?”

He looked at me, contemplating something. “I recommend you visit the world section in the library. Now, I will tell you the number, but you will not believe it. After I leave you here, please put the fishing rod back before you leave as I really don’t want to have the following conversation.”

He spoke in a serious tone, and I braced myself for something ridiculous.

“There are currently one trillion, four billion and change registered and active adventurers.”

“The fuck there is! There’s no way.” My brain tried to understand the number, it didn’t. Was he messing with me? I refocused on what was around me only to not see him anymore. There’s no way I was out that long, bet he has like stealth or something.

“Hey! Come back! Are you messing with me or not?” No one answered. I quickly put the rod back and headed towards the compound and the library. I was pretty sure that it was open 24/7. Wait, 26/7. That was going to take a while to get used to.

While it took me 30 minutes to get here with fast walking I managed to get back in under 20. As I walked in, for a moment I forgot about that ridiculous statement and just marveled at the magnificent library.

Holy shit was it large, and so packed with books. Even at this hour, it was quite filled with people. It wasn’t hard to locate the world section, although I did thought to just asking one of the librarians. But if it was a prank, I didn’t want someone else to know.

The world section was incredibly huge. One section was named The Comprehensive Guide of the 15,000 Worlds. There’s no way he must be lying.

There was an Adventurer Guild section, and I immediately started looking for the right books and going through them.

“He wasn’t lying?” Oh my God, there are so many worlds.

It seemed that this particular book constantly got updated constantly as the latest entry even had my world Earth 85C. Currently, there were 19,812 accessible worlds, with their estimated total population being just a bit over 2 trillion.

That was a really rough estimate, and the book itself acknowledged that. It seemed that politically, all the worlds were not under one government, most being divided between multiple large or even dozens of countries, with the only constant being the Adventurer Guild.

The estimate of total population came from the meticulous records the Adventurer Guild kept on their own members. Apparently, 50 to 60% of the population in any given world choose to become adventurers. That was ridiculous, the scale of it all.

Then a thought crossed my mind. That meant there were so many different fish species and so many different lakes and rivers to fish. Why did that sound so wonderful?