Chapter 4: Fisherman's Friend, Part 2
1014 AD, Medina Seaside Cottage
The noises prompted Guile to walk ahead with his fists clenched. He had a hunch that the man was probably arming himself with stronger equipments to attack him. It didn't make him worry anyway; instead, he was eager to fight back if his feeling were true.
"Son, sometimes you're a brainless boy."
"I will only fight back if he attacks again."
All of a sudden, there was a loud shout coming as a burly man walked out of the shadows, carrying three fishing rods and a metallic toolbox. "What the hell are you thinking about? Me? Attacking you?" He spitted. "I'm just goin' fishin' to relax my nerves!"
"Hmm, I see." Guile nodded. He had no interest in picking on someone who hadn't provoked him. His hunger did tempt him to ask the man for some food, either with or without force; however, he knew that the man was just going to have fun. That became why he would rather starve.
Without saying anything, the man walked past Guile.
Such behavior baffled, yet interested Guile. He kept looking at the fisherman, and that act spawned another question. Why was he bringing three fishing rods instead of one?
"Sir?" Guile called out.
The man halted. "Yeah, what?"
"Your fishing rod. You bring three."
Walking toward the exit door, the man replied, "You wanna eat, right?"
Huh? This jerk was nicer than before to be honest. "Yes," Guile answered under his breath. He couldn't bring himself to talk aloud as he didn't want to anger the man.
"Then follow me. But you gotta catch the fish by yourself." The man looked at Guile. "You're lucky that I let ya join me fishin', monster."
"Sir, don't worry," Viktor suddenly said. "The guy you call 'monster' won't harm you as long as I'm around."
Wouldn't harm anybody as long as Viktor was around? There was something wrong with that. Guile wouldn't keep silent if the fisherman attacked him again. That little error in his master's statement grated his nerves, but Guile didn't speak up. It wouldn't be a good idea to correct it, as that might just draw an unwanted conflict.
"I hope so," the man uttered, standing outside the hut. "Anyway, call me Marco."
1014 AD, Eastern Coast of Medina
Sounds of squawking seagulls and waves splashing against the sand echoed across the horizon. Gentle wind was blowing across the seaside, bringing the salty fragrance of the sea with it.
Strolling at this moment was nice for Guile. There was no more wet cloth sticking to the skin, which meant that there was no more uncomfortable feels. What made it even better was that the breeze was fair. It wasn't strong enough to blow dust into his eyes, while its strength was sufficient for refreshment.
He and Viktor followed Marco all the way to a dock further in front of them.
"If you wanna fish, go ahead and use my rod. If no, you can just enjoy the view, but no food for you." Marco stopped at the end of the dock and put down all the fishing tools. "And why the hell are you still bringing that spear? Spearfishing isn't easy and won't get ya a fish unless you're sharp!"
"Yeah, Guile," Viktor added. "Just use a fishing rod. It's fun and easy."
"Hmm…" Guile put away the spear and picked up a fishing rod. Looking at it, he sported a confused expression on his face and scratched his head. He had never used something like this to catch a fish… But why was there a fish at the end of the line? Was it just pure luck? If yes, he could just devour it here and now.
He decided to observe the fish. Unfortunately, a closer look on it gave him bad news. At first, it did look quite tasty, but it actually wasn't a fish. The metallic hook attached to its underbelly made it obvious that it was inedible.
Sighing noisily, he put the rod down and shifted his attention to the spear he had been bringing along with him. He would rather use the traditional way to catch a fish now.
"You don't know how to use a fishing rod, son?"
Guile shook his head.
"I'll teach you then." Viktor took a fishing rod and sat on the floor. "Look at this, son." He cast the line into the water. "When it shakes, it means that a fish gets caught in the bait's hook." He pointed at the reel. "After that, spin this reel and you'll get a fish. Be careful, though. Fish will always try to run away, and if it's strong enough, your line will break and it'll escape with the bait."
Guile nodded. He had understood how to use a fishing rod. He only had to sit down, cast the line, wait until the pole shook, and spin the reel to get a fish. It sounded simple. Hopefully, it was that easy in reality.
He sat on the ground, grabbed the fishing rod, and cast the line. Now, all he needed was just waiting.
He was lucky! As soon as the bait submerged, he could feel a mild tremor on his rod.
Grinning, he spun the reel rapidly. Surprisingly, he didn't feel like the fish was running away. He could reel it in smoothly and quickly. It made him assume that he caught a small fish, but he didn't mind about the size now. A tiny little sardine would also comfort his stomach in this moment of hunger.
A few seconds later, he could only grit his teeth, tighten his grip on the fishing rod, and stare at his catch with a pair of widened eyes. He hadn't reeled a fish in; instead, he had caught a small streamer of seaweed.
He believed it was inedible rubbish. As he released it from the hook and was about to throw it back into the sea, he heard a familiar voice calling out to him: "Just keep it, son! It's edible and nutritious."
He blinked. This weed was that good?
He inspected the seaweed and spotted some sand on its drenched surface. Knowing that he'd better get rid of it, he waved the weed as if he were waving a wet cloth. The sand fell into the sea below as the leafy object swayed, but a small amount of it was still there. Bah, how troublesome could that amount of sand be? He'd rather proceed to the next step of learning about this plant.
He sniffed the seaweed, sensing saltiness emanating from it. Well, it wasn't a big deal, because he knew that most delicious food was salty. This weed should make a fine snack.
He wanted to try it now. He shoved it into his mouth and munched it. It was at least as crispy as a deep-fried fish fillet, which was why chewing the weed produced loud cracking noises. The saltiness of the newfound food did make him wince, but he swallowed it in the end.
All of a sudden, there was a loud shout: "For Heaven's sake, Guile! You ate and swallowed it?"
Guile turned to look at Viktor and smile at him. "It's very salty, but I like it. It's as crunchy as crackers and the likes."
Viktor smacked his own face with a hand of his. "We're supposed to clean it first! You know why you could say that about the seaweed?" He paused to take a deep breath, before yelling, "The seawater made it salty, while the sand made it crispy!"
"As long it's edible, why bother?" Guile answered nonchalantly.
"You can get sick!" Viktor scolded. "Don't just think that because you can't feel pain, you're safe from vomiting and diarrhea!"
Guile only shrugged. "If I think too much, there won't be anything for me to eat."
"Son, sometimes I can't understand you." Viktor turned away and sighed. "If that's how you think, fine. Let's just continue fishing then."
Upon returning his focus to the sea, Guile cast the line again. Whether he would catch seaweed or fish, he didn't mind. They were all edible.
Unfortunately, he had no luck in fishing this time. He had spent a few minutes sitting and waiting, but his fishing rod had never trembled. Nothing had ever struck his bait. However, he decided to give it another chance. After all, it was the most practical way to get some food for now.
Five minutes had passed, but he hadn't felt any tremors on his fishing rod. It was just aggravating. His stomach was hurt and growling, while he hadn't caught anything edible. This experience enabled him to conclude about the efficacy of fishing rod and spear. A fishing rod wasn't as effective as people said after all.
Now, he had only one thing in his mind: use the old way to catch a fish. Sure, spearfishing would make him wet all over, but he believed it was better than a boring, fruitless wait.
He reeled the bait in fast and put the fishing rod aside. Quickly, he stood up, took off his coat, and picked up the spear beside him.
He was ready to spear some fish. In a blink of an eye, he jumped off the dock.
Splash!
As the lower half of his body was immersed in the water, he heard a familiar shout: "Silly boy. Why are you still doing the hard way when you're given the easy one?"
But Guile simply held his breath and dived into the seawater. Responding to that statement would only waste the precious time he needed to spear some fish.
Well, if he had cared about it, he probably wouldn't have suffered a blurry vision. But why should he care either? He could still see stuff underwater. Fish were either grey lines or ellipses skimming across the water. And a few of those grey things were in his sight.
This should be easy. He could skewer something with a thrust of his spear.
Whoosh!
Bubbles traced the path of his thrust, obscuring what he had probably caught with his spear. As soon as they cleared, though, Guile only earned disappointment. He hadn't speared any fish; instead, he appeared to have scared off the aquatic animals. The grey shapes were spreading away fast.
Seeing this, an idea sparked in his mind. If he thrust the spear rapidly and randomly, he could probably catch some fish.
Smirking, he stabbed the water quickly and almost invisibly. The metal blade struck everywhere underwater, yielding a bloody result. Redness and chunks of flesh were now staining the water. This told him that he had probably speared some fish.
Yes, he had. His spear had pierced an unlucky fish and torn some small aquatic animals apart. For now, he thought that he had better 'deposit' his catch to his master. He couldn't hunt more with a dead fish occupying almost the entirety of the spear's blade.
With a flick of his feet, he propelled himself upward.
Seconds later, he emerged from the sea with the lower half of his body still underwater. He could now breathe freely and see clearly. He flicked his feet again, launching himself into the air. He then flew toward the dock and land on the sturdy wooden floor with both of his feet.
There, Viktor greeted him with a smile. "You caught a mackerel!"
"A spear works better than a fishing rod."
"I don't think so." Viktor turned and pointed at a fourteen-inch-long white sea bass resting beside his fishing rod. "I got a big one. Marco helped me."
Guile walked past Viktor and knelt down, looking at the fish. He couldn't help but salivating upon looking at the big fat fish. This should make a great meal.
All of a sudden, he felt a soft pat on his back. He turned in response and saw Viktor giggling at him.
"Be patient, son! We'll soon have it cooked!"
"Not so fast," Marco's gruff voice chimed in as he was suddenly visible behind Viktor. "Y'know, there's a deal we gotta talk about."
Those words prompted Guile to stand up and shift his attention to Marco.
Staring at the fisherman with an exasperated look on his face, Viktor asked, "What's the matter? We caught these fish by ourselves, and they are ours."
"Move aside, gramps!" Marco barked. "There's something I gotta talk with this guy."
Viktor took a step to the side, enabling Marco to walk closer to Guile.
"Those fish ain't all yours!" Marco snapped, scowling.
"Why not?" Guile raised the tone of his voice. "We caught them by ourselves!"
"You used my tools to catch them! You gotta share some fer me!"
Marco is right, Guile thought. That was a little disappointing, but if he argued, it wouldn't do any good.
He remained silent, deep in thoughts. He was estimating how many fish Marco would receive… Wait! Without Marco's tools, he and Viktor couldn't catch anything! So this brash fisherman deserved a lot, or probably, the whole catch!
"Sir, to be fair, you deserve most of these fish. Without you, Master Viktor and I couldn't catch anything," Guile said calmly. "Take as many as you wish, sir."
"Ya really mean it?" Marco asked, his frown turning into a shocked expression.
Guile simply nodded.
That resulted in a strange reaction from Marco. The fisherman bowed and muttered, "You don't seem like a monster at all. You're so nice. I thought I could just be an asshole to ya and do whatever I wanted because of yer infamy."
Looking at the tears welling in Marco's eyes, Guile asked, "Sir?"
Marco turned away. "Nothing. I've just got sands in my eyes." He sauntered towards his toolbox, fishing rod, and a twenty-inch-long white sea bass. Picking them up, he turned to Guile and flashed him a tearful smile. "Let's go to the inn. I'mma have these fish cooked."
Guile gave out a wide smile as he hunched to pick up Viktor's sea bass.
"I think it all ends well," Viktor commented. "Guile finally gets to eat."
"C'mon, mates!" Marco walked past Guile and Viktor. "Let's stash all the tools and…it's party time!"
1014 AD, Medina Residential Area
The village of Medina remained as silent and desolate as usual. Nobody was wandering around the streets. Merchants had left their item stands empty. The doors and the windows of the surrounding buildings too, were all shut.
"People here are afraid of you, mate," Marco began flatly. "Not sure if the inn is open too."
Saying nothing, Guile kept scanning the surroundings for the inn. He needed more attention to find what he was searching for. The buildings around were all cubical in shapes, and what differed them was only the number of story they had. They either had one or two stories.
The number of story could be a good indicator for where the inn is, he thought. An inn was for travelers to live in, and it had to be taller than regular houses to hold more people. Using that logic, he stopped walking when he spotted a three-story building. He was correct. Above the mahogany door, a huge wooden plank with the word 'Inn' etched upon it rested.
Seeing that, he turned, walked toward the door, and stopped before it.
Knock, knock, knock.
No answer.
Knock, knock, knock.
There was still no answer.
It appeared that he had to use his old trick now. Calmly, he grabbed the doorknob and turned it.
Click, click, click.
The door wouldn't open!
Guile still struggled to turn the doorknob, hoping that the door would soon open.
"Ya lunkhead!" Marco suddenly laughed from behind. "People here lock the door!"
Viktor added, "Yeah, the reason why you managed to open a door earlier was because Marco didn't lock it!"
"Fine," Guile replied, releasing the doorknob from his grasp and clenching his free fist. "I would just knock it down."
"Hold it, son," Viktor called out. "Think before you act."
"Thinking is unnecessary for this simple problem," Guile responded calmly. "When there's an unavoidable obstacle, you just have to remove it if you wish to go on."
"Before you break the door, son, are you sure that there's no other way to remove the obstacle other than using brute strength?" Viktor asked, smirking. "Or maybe you wanna listen to my idea?"
Guile looked at his master. Upon noticing the smile on Viktor's face, he thought that there was actually another way to get into the inn. It should be related to Viktor himself, but he had no idea how.
A moment of thinking and analyzing finally gave him an answer. Viktor was a wizard, and with magic, he should be able to pick a lock like a thief.
Stepping aside with his gaze still at Viktor's face, he said, "Master, this should be your work."
"Heh, I know you can do it, son." Viktor took a step forward. "You're smart, but sometimes you just don't think." Pointing at the keyhole on the doorknob, he exclaimed. "Thunder Arrow!"
Knowing what would happen soon, Guile shrugged. "You're breaking the door as well."
"I don't think so," Viktor replied playfully. Orbs of crackling electricity gathered in front of his index finger, merging into a tiny arrow of lightning.
Viktor had a bull's eye indeed. The little dart entered the keyhole, causing threads of smoke to come out from the aperture.
"I only fry the lock," he said, turning the smoky doorknob to the side. With a click, the passage was now clear.
Guile entered the inn with Viktor and Marco, only to find a wide-eyed, green-skinned imp staring at them whilst standing between a counter and a shelf full of wine bottles.