HLM – Chapter 878 Zhuang Ding Teaches Them a Lesson

Onlookers never feared things getting messy.

Wang Bo took over the rod, and Kaplan’s group immediately began arguing with him in dissatisfaction. Meanwhile, Malop, now idle, leaned against the railing laughing gleefully, chiming in from time to time.

Having their hard-earned catch insulted like this, Kaplan finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. He said, “Fine, let’s bet. I want to see what kind of dog can fish!”

“Not just fish — win against us!” Kaminsky added.

Someone next to them said, “Win against us? As long as it can fish at all, that’s already shocking!”

Kaminsky shook his head. “I’ve seen dogs that can fish. When I was in Finland once, I saw a Labrador out at sea that used its tail to fish.”

Wang Bo signaled Malop to steer the boat back to the pier. Zhuang Ding was on the geothermal lake shore digging holes, having a great time on his own.

Seeing Wang Bo wave, Zhuang Ding shook off the hot water and sand on his body, dashed over at high speed, and jumped onto the pier, wagging his tail energetically at him.

Wang Bo looked at Kaplan and said, “This dog will be entering the bet. Since it’s a wager, there has to be stakes — otherwise it’s boring.”

Kaplan said, “Are you serious? You really think a dog can be better at fishing than a human?”

“And most of us are members of the New Zealand Fishing Association,” someone added.

Wang Bo smiled. “That’s the whole point of gambling. It’s only fun if the outcome is unknown.”

His constant “fishing is easy” expression made the whole group grind their teeth in anger.

Finally, Kaplan accepted. “Fine, name your stakes. If we lose, what do you want?”

Wang Bo said, “Ten buses. Luxury tourist coaches!”

Hearing that, Kaplan burst out laughing. “Buddy, looks like you’ve been eyeing our coaches for a while. But trying to win them like this? I’m afraid that won’t work.”

Wang Bo shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. That’s gambling — you win some, you lose some. If you win, what do you want?”

Kaplan exchanged glances with his colleagues before saying decisively: “We want you to buy out the company’s stock in the New Zealand market — just the shares held by the few of us.”

Horton Motors’ bankruptcy was already irreversible. But since it had General Motors behind it, it could still operate temporarily.

But no one was a fool. In this situation, Horton’s stock price kept plummeting, often hitting limit-down. The government had to release stimulus policies just to bring it up a little.

In other words, everyone wanted to sell, but no one wanted to buy.

Wang Bo could buy, and was interested.

He had been calculating Kaplan’s group all along — little did he know they were trying to calculate him as well.

This bet was mutually intentional — both sides believed they would win.

Auckland Sky City Casino had a well-known saying: “What is a good bet? One you are certain to win.”

With that settled, Wang Bo drove the boat across the lake and asked, “Where do you want to hold the contest?”

Kaplan generously spread his hands. “You choose. We’ll go wherever.”

They thought nothing of it — but this was basically a death sentence. If Wang Bo chose, he would obviously choose a place with few fish, since the dog’s fish would clearly be ones he secretly hooked and staged.

And he’d also need murky water — otherwise people might literally see a fish being pinched and hung on the hook underwater.

But this was difficult: under the control of the Level-2 Lake Heart, Lake Hawea was crystal clear, the water transparent as crystal.

So Wang Bo had to rely on himself. He found a raised area on the lakebed in the center of the lake and stirred up the sediment with his hands until the surrounding water grew cloudy.

He steered the boat to that location and signaled Malop to drop anchor. “Mm, here’s good.”

Malop and the others were stunned. “This spot is good? Fishing in a place this murky?”

Wang Bo had long prepared a rebuttal. He shot them all a disdainful look. “And you call yourselves fishing experts? You don’t even understand the saying ‘If the water is too clear, there are no fish’?”

Kaminsky countered, “Yes, overly clear water is bad for fishing — but this water clearly has issues. Why would there be fish here at all?”

Wang Bo shrugged. “Fine, you let me choose a place, I chose it, and now you’re objecting. Why don’t you pick the spot instead? Otherwise you’ll accuse me of cheating when you lose.”

Malop chuckled beside him. The boss was ruthless — he had blocked off every escape route.

Naturally, after hearing that, the group had nothing to say.

Kaplan said, “We’re definitely going to win anyway. What difference does the location make? Kaminsky, you go.”

Kaminsky, of Norwegian descent, was the best angler among them. Kaplan chose the safest option.

Malop cheered on Zhuang Ding. “Go on, teach them a lesson — show them what real fishing looks like!”

Zhuang Ding shot him a sideways glance. Dog Lord listens to you? Who do you think you are?

Wang Bo took out a rod, baited the hook, cast it into the lake, then nodded to Zhuang Ding. The dog immediately trotted over and pressed its paw down on the rod.

“You’re really letting it fish? I thought you would have it jump in to catch them,” Kayla said in surprise.

Wang Bo grinned. “Of course. Don’t underestimate Zhuang Ding. Otherwise, you’ll regret it.”

He had warned them several times already, but they still didn’t take it seriously. They were basically asking for trouble.

Because of his stirring earlier, there were naturally no fish nearby — even the longfin eels hiding in the silt had vanished.

Kaminsky cast his line with a precise flick. He really was skilled — the baited hook floated down like a feather, touching the lake surface silently before sinking slowly.

Wang Bo had fished since childhood and recognized the technique instantly — fly fishing, a method requiring tremendous skill.

The brilliance of fly fishing was that the hook used buoyancy to slow its fall, entering the water gently without startling the fish.

There was once an old angler in his hometown who could drop a hook right on top of a fish’s head without the fish noticing.

But here, it was useless — just showing off. The water was so murky that you couldn’t see even a meter deep. Throwing a stone wouldn’t scare anything.

The spectators recognized the skill and cheered:

“Cool, buddy!”

“No sound at all — he’s a master!”

“If I hadn’t been staring, I wouldn’t know where the hook went!”

But with no fish around, the impressive technique was pointless.

Wang Bo waited a moment, then slid open the sand table interface for the lake. Along the shoreline among dense aquatic plants, he found a southern rudd fish hunting small shrimp.