"Brothers, proceed as planned!" Luke shouted at the top of his lungs.
The moment his voice echoed across the riverbank, the entire shoreline burst into motion. Fishermen who had been standing by in tense anticipation sprang into action, their faces filled with excitement and concentration. Ten sturdy fishing boats pushed off from the shore almost simultaneously, spreading out in a wide formation across the river's surface. Oars churned the water with rhythmic splashes, sending shimmering ripples in every direction.
Under the clear morning sun, the boats moved like a coordinated unit. At Luke's signal, the fishermen aboard them lowered massive seine nets into the water. These were no ordinary fishing nets. They had been carefully improved according to Lord Louis's instructions—reinforced hemp rope, strengthened seams, and precisely calculated mesh sizes that balanced strength with sustainability.
The moment the nets touched the water, they tightened and spread out beneath the surface, forming a massive encirclement.
"Hold the formation!" Captain Reg bellowed, his voice rough but commanding. Veins bulged on his thick forearms as he gripped the taut hemp rope with both hands. "Don't let the fish escape!"
Beneath the river's surface, dark shadows surged and darted wildly. The water itself seemed to come alive, trembling and churning as if a tide were rising from below. Schools of fat-headed river fish rushed blindly into the encirclement, only realizing too late that their escape routes had been cut off.
"They're in the net!" someone shouted.
"They're all in!" another voice followed, barely containing its excitement.
In an instant, the calm river erupted into chaos. Water splashed violently as hundreds of fish thrashed against the tightening nets. Silver scales flashed beneath the sunlight, reflecting dazzling glimmers across the river's surface. It looked as though the water itself had been shattered into countless fragments of light.
Despite their strength, the fish had nowhere to go. The iron-tight formation of ten boats left no gaps, and the fishermen moved with practiced precision. Ropes were pulled in unison, muscles straining as the nets gradually contracted.
"Pull quickly! Don't let the net loosen!"
"Haha! This is the most fish I've ever seen in my life!"
Laughter and shouts rang out across the river. The fishermen's arms trembled under the weight, sweat pouring down their backs, but not a single person complained. On the contrary, their faces glowed with exhilaration.
The nets grew heavier and heavier, so much so that some boats tilted slightly under the immense load. Water poured back into the river as the nets rose, carrying with them a living mass of wriggling bodies.
When the final net was fully retrieved, the scene left everyone momentarily speechless.
The boats were piled high with live fish.
They flopped and jumped relentlessly, tails slapping against wooden planks, sending water splashing in every direction. Each fish was noticeably larger than the average river catch—plump, strong, and shimmering with an enticing luster. Their bodies glistened as they writhed, radiating vitality.
This harvest far exceeded everyone's expectations.
A quick count revealed nearly two thousand fish from the seine nets alone—enough to feed the entire Red Tide Territory for several days.
And this was only part of the operation.
On the opposite side of the riverbank, another group of fishermen was hard at work using casting nets. Unlike the coordinated encirclement on the water, this required individual skill and precise timing.
"The angle must be right," an experienced old fisherman said sternly as he stood beside a young apprentice. "Too shallow, and you scare them away. Too deep, and you miss the school entirely."
The young man nodded nervously. Taking a deep breath, he gripped the weighted edge of his net with both hands. His eyes followed the faint ripples on the water's surface, waiting for the perfect moment.
Then he threw.
The net arced beautifully through the air, spreading wide like a blooming flower before splashing down. The lead weights sank rapidly, enclosing a school of fish that had failed to escape in time.
"Got them!" the young fisherman shouted.
He pulled hard on the rope. The water churned violently as several two-foot-long fat fish were dragged to the surface, struggling desperately. Their strength was impressive, but it was no match for the tightly woven net.
"This one's huge!" he exclaimed, holding up a fish nearly as long as his arm.
Nearby fishermen cast envious glances.
"If that went into a soup," one of them said with a grin, "I can't even imagine how good it'd taste."
The group laughed, their hands moving faster as excitement spread. Although their total catch couldn't compare to the massive haul from the seine nets, they still managed to bring in hundreds of fresh fish. Wooden buckets overflowed, water sloshing over the edges as fish flapped and thrashed.
Further down the riverbank, a third group practiced traditional fishing methods. These were mostly local residents, people who had lived by the river their entire lives. Each of them held a polished fish spear, its metal tip gleaming sharply.
Their eyes were fixed on the water.
"Here they come," one of the seasoned fishermen murmured.
In a flash, his arm swung downward.
Pfft!
The spear pierced the water cleanly. Bloody foam surfaced almost immediately, followed by the powerful struggle of a large fish skewered firmly through the body. Though it thrashed violently, its fate was sealed.
Within moments, seven or eight hefty fish—each weighing nearly three pounds—were stacked inside a wooden bucket at his feet. Some were so large their tails hung over the rim, flapping weakly.
In the shallows nearby, several fishermen quietly checked the fish traps they had placed earlier. These traps were simple but effective, carefully positioned along natural currents.
"Just a little longer…" one fisherman muttered, watching patiently.
Suddenly, his eyes lit up.
He pulled up the trap swiftly.
"Caught them! A full dozen!"
Cheers erupted. Though these fish were smaller, their flesh was delicate and highly prized. For the people of Red Tide Territory, this was a true delicacy.
The fishing operation continued for several hours. Nets were retrieved, traps were checked, and spears struck again and again. By the time the sun climbed higher into the sky, every boat was loaded to the brim.
Fish flapped and writhed in heaps, their scales glimmering brilliantly. Tails slapped against wood with loud cracks, water splashing everywhere.
"Three thousand fish!"
When the final count was announced, the dock exploded with cheers.
"A full three thousand!"
"Lord Louis is incredible—he said there would be fish today, and look at this!"
"We've never seen fishing like this before!"
"Lord Louis doesn't just govern well—he even understands fishing!"
The fishermen laughed, clapped one another on the shoulders, and exchanged excited high-fives. Their praise for Louis came from the heart. Even those who had doubted today's plan were now utterly convinced.
Luke stood quietly to the side, watching the jubilant scene unfold. The apprehension he had felt earlier was long gone, replaced by awe.
He truly hadn't expected Lord Louis's prediction to be this accurate.
Almost unconsciously, Luke lifted his gaze toward the dock.
Louis stood there calmly, a faint smile on his face. Though he said nothing, his eyes reflected satisfaction as he watched the fishermen's joy. Seeing their smiles, his own mood lifted.
This was the first real step toward pulling the Red Tide Territory out of its crisis.
The food shortage that had plagued the territory could finally be eased.
And this was only the beginning.
Louis knew better than anyone that fishing was not a one-time miracle but a long-term industry. As a transmigrator, he understood the consequences of overexploitation all too well. That was why he had already devised a comprehensive and sustainable fishing strategy.
First, all fishing nets were required to have larger mesh sizes. This ensured that immature fish could escape, grow, and reproduce, preserving the river's population.
Second, fishing would only be allowed during fixed periods each day, with at least one fishing moratorium every week. The river needed time to recover, just like the people who depended on it.
Only in this way could the territory avoid exhausting its resources in a single burst of greed.
Beyond wild fishing, Louis also planned to establish aquaculture zones. High-quality fish would be selected as broodstock and cultivated in designated waters, creating a stable and controllable food source rather than relying solely on nature's generosity.
As Louis gazed at the mountain of fish piled high on the dock, another problem surfaced in his mind.
How should all this food be processed?
No matter how abundant a harvest was, poor management would only turn it into waste.
A celebration banquet, he decided.
In just a few days, it would mark one full month since his arrival in the Red Tide Territory. It was a milestone worth commemorating. In that short time, a once-desolate land plagued by hunger and despair had begun to regain order and hope.
Fishing, agriculture, construction—everything was slowly moving forward.
Louis knew this progress wasn't his achievement alone.
So the banquet would not only celebrate the harvest but also honor the fishermen, craftsmen, and soldiers who had worked tirelessly for the territory.
Still, even a banquet could only consume a fraction of the catch.
The rest had to be preserved.
Winter was coming, and food shortages were inevitable. These fish needed to last.
As Louis pondered this, a familiar idea surfaced in his mind—an ancient yet effective preservation method.
His lips curved slightly.
It was time to put it into practice.
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