A god-tier fishing spot, anglers lined up to give me money.

Unable to understand, Yang Qi retreated from the Water World and stood at the registration desk, staring blankly at the ceiling for a few seconds.

Nine Heavens has awakened, and the fourth-tier fish king weighs over 60,000 jin. Devouring Heaven has also reached 30,000 jin, and Little Green is almost 25,000 jin.

Everything was fine, except that 600,000 catties of black dragon sea eels were eaten by Jiutian, and the conversion efficiency was so low that they only grew to a little over 60,000 catties.

Sigh, how many fish would it have to eat to grow into such a huge creature?

Yang Qi shook his head, dismissing the thought, and pushed the door open to walk out.

The sun was shining brightly outside, and from his perspective alone, there were nearly a hundred anglers sitting on the shore.

Yang Qi walked along the newly built path for a while and stopped under a large willow tree near the old camphor tree.

He bent down to look at the ground, found a slightly flat patch of grass, and then plopped down on it.

Then he lowered his hand into the water, and as he lifted it up, the legendary fishing rod appeared in his hand.

Looking around to make sure no one was watching, I lifted the rod, left the bait, and cast it out.

Without even looking at the float, he leaned back against the trunk of a willow tree, stretched out his legs and crossed them, put his hands on the back of his head, and squinted at the people fishing in the distance as if nothing was wrong.

Now that everyone knows the reservoir is full of giant fish, all anglers have significantly upgraded their equipment, now using high-quality rods and reels.

On the left, there was an old man wearing a straw hat sitting at the fishing spot. He had just cast his line less than ten minutes ago when the tip of his rod suddenly bent downwards.

He sprang up from the folding chair, gripped the rod handle with both hands, and began to play the fish.

Two companions put down their poles and went over to help him grab the landing net, while the guy in the straw hat shouted, "Hold on, hold on!"

The reel made a "swish, swish" sound as it let out the line, and it took almost an hour to drag the big guy to the shore.

When the net was scooped up, the fish's tail splashed water, spraying it all over the face of the man in the straw hat.

He wiped his face, looked down, hung the fishing scale between the fish's cap, lifted it up, and looked:

"Damn, a 21-pound head, hahaha..."

My companion took a picture with his phone and posted it in the group chat. Several people gathered around the fish and burst into laughter.

Further away, there was a young man who was probably encountering a large truck for the first time.

The rod was bent into a bow, and the fish didn't know how to release the line or release the brake, stubbornly struggling against the fish.

With a crisp "snap" from the rod tip, half of the rod, along with the line, flew off, the carbon fiber cut at the break point dazzlingly white in the sunlight.

The young man stood there stunned for two seconds, then turned around and shouted to the people next to him, "Does anyone have a spare rod they can borrow?"

Several veteran anglers nearby burst out laughing.

Near the middle was a chubby guy with his shirt off. His muscles were tanned dark and shiny by the sun. His skin tone made him look like a fishing master.

At this moment, it is fighting with a grass carp that is estimated to weigh over 30 pounds.

Fatty has a lot of strength in his pole, but he doesn't seem to know how to use finesse; he just relies on brute force to pull it up.

He pulled hard on the fish three times it darted left and right in the water. On the fourth time, the fish suddenly darted to the side, and the main line snapped on the spot. The fishing line made a "whoosh" sound as it cut through the air.

Fatty plopped back into his chair and stood there stunned for a while before pulling the broken wire back to examine the cut.

He cursed, "Another one broken! That was satisfying!"

After cursing, he fixed the hook again, took a new ball of bait from the bait box, hooked it, and cast it out again.

……

Excitement, line snap, rod snap, fish on the hook...

Yang Qi watched these scenes with a constant smirk on his face.

I saw someone frantically grabbing the landing net when they caught a fish.

Seeing someone's frustrated expression of slapping their thigh and cursing after being disconnected.

I saw the focused energy of someone who kept playing with their fish until their arms ached, and I also saw the smiles that burst from the faces of those who had spent the whole morning finally breaking the zero mark.

These sounds, images, and emotions made him feel peaceful leaning against the willow tree. He didn't have to do anything or think about anything; he could just watch.

What Yang Qi didn't know was that these good days were about to come to an end.

...

At this moment, deep within the Japanese sea, tens of thousands of fourth- and fifth-tier giant beasts lurk on the seabed.

They escaped from Antarctica and, for some unknown reason, have been lying dormant here.