HDRDTH -Chapter 90 This World Is Full of Malice

The East China Sea, 30 nautical miles off the reef zone.

Sea wind whipped salty waves against the deck of the rented fishing boat.

Yu Xian crouched dead center on the deck.

Both hands clutched his messy hair tightly, knuckles pale with bloodless tension.

Fresh blood from the torn wound on his left hand dripped down his wrist onto the deck—he didn’t even glance at it.

Less than half a meter in front of him lay a three-meter-long, pitch-black streamlined metal object.

On its side, faint white lettering glowed coldly: [UUV-Seawolf-007]

A top-tier Japanese strategic underwater drone worth over a hundred million.

It now looked like a dead fish flipped belly-up, its propeller still spinning weakly with a “click… click…” sound in the wind.

“VROOM—!”

A deafening engine roar tore through the sea’s calm.

Three stealth-painted military helicopters hovered overhead in a triangular formation like hunting falcons.

Ropes dropped.

Chu Feng and twelve fully armed special forces soldiers descended like divine soldiers.

The moment Chu Feng’s boots hit the deck, his gaze locked onto the black metal object.

His usually cold face began twitching uncontrollably.

“Sea Wolf Seven…”

His Adam’s apple rolled violently.

This was one of Japan’s highest-class naval secrets—something even Chinese military intelligence had only seen blurred images of.

And now it lay belly-up on a civilian fishing boat.

Still hanging from it was half a torn live squid.

“Establish perimeter! No one approaches within 100 meters! Not even a seagull!”

Chu Feng roared into his comms, drawing his sidearm.

The soldiers immediately spread out and sealed the entire area.

He walked briskly to Yu Xian.

Stood at attention.

He snapped his feet together with a crisp click.

“Mr. Yu!”

He raised his hand in a perfect military salute.

“You have once again made an extraordinary contribution to the Republic! On behalf of—”

“Don’t talk to me.”

Yu Xian interrupted flatly.

Chu Feng froze.

He looked up.

He had expected a calm, composed strategist—someone proud, detached, victorious.

Instead, he saw exhaustion.

Frustration.

And a deep, almost pitiful sense of grievance in those red-rimmed eyes.

Yu Xian slowly stood.

He didn’t look at Chu Feng.

Didn’t look at the strategic underwater drone that could change the entire Asia-Pacific balance.

He bent down.

Picked up his expensive fishing rod.

Gripped it with both hands.

Raised his knee.

CRACK!

The carbon rod—thick as a thumb—snapped clean in two.

Yu Xian casually threw the broken rod into the sea.

“Da Fu.”

His voice was hoarse, like glass shards scraping together.

“I’m here!” Wang Da Fu scrambled over, trembling.

“Go home.”

Yu Xian shuffled toward the cockpit in his cheap ten-yuan plastic slippers.

“This sea… doesn’t have a single normal fish.”

He left behind a lonely, desolate silhouette.

Chu Feng stared at his back, eyes suddenly burning.

He understood.

Mr. Yu wasn’t destroying the rod out of anger.

He was expressing outrage—at Japan’s despicable actions—through the breaking of his fishing rod.

To disguise himself as a fisherman, infiltrate international waters alone, and seize an enemy strategic asset…

What kind of psychological pressure and strategic risk was that?

“Salute!”

Chu Feng shouted.

All twelve soldiers raised their hands in unison.

Yu Xian’s back stiffened slightly in the wind.

Then he walked even faster.

He just wanted to escape this world that felt increasingly malicious and mocking.

Jinshui Bay Villa, Jiangcheng.

Second floor, deepest room.

Once a luxurious private fishing gear room.

Now—utter chaos.

Broken rods everywhere.

Destroyed reels.

Imported hooks and lures scattered across the floor.

Yu Xian had locked himself inside for two full days.

No lights.

Thick blackout curtains sealed off every trace of sunlight.

He lay sprawled on an expensive Persian carpet, wearing a worn-out gray undershirt.

Staring blankly at the ceiling.

Unshaven stubble covered his chin.

The bandage on his left hand was soaked with dark red blood—he didn’t bother changing it.

When hungry, he drank cold water.

When tired, he closed his eyes.

But every time he closed them—

He saw it all again.

The bronze sphere in Thousand Island Lake.

The green-slime-spitting grouper that looked down on him with contempt.

And that nuclear submarine hanging from a squid bait.

“Fifty-five years…”

He muttered in the dark room.

“I killed my way through the business world. Seen every storm imaginable.”

“Reborn… and I just wanted to be a quiet fisherman.”

“God… are you screwing with me?”

He rolled over and buried his face in the carpet.

The crushing frustration flooded him like a tide.

This wasn’t pretense.

He was genuinely broken.

A max-level veteran player.

With top-tier gear.

Perfect technique.

And he couldn’t even catch a single crucian carp.

That hurt more than death.

This was divine punishment.

A soft knock came from outside.

“Xiao Yu…”

Su Wanyi’s voice, trembling with worry and tears, came through the thick wooden door.

“Please eat something… I made your favorite crucian carp tofu soup.”

“I even removed all the bones.”

At the word “crucian carp,” Yu Xian shuddered violently. His stomach churned.

“No.”

He stuffed his head into a tactical bag.

“Take it away. From now on… no one in this house is allowed to say the word ‘fish.’”

Silence outside.

Then Wang Da Fu’s lowered voice.

“Mom… don’t persuade him.”

“He’s not fasting.”

“He’s in closed-door cultivation.”

In the hallway, Wang Da Fu leaned toward Wang Fei conspiratorially.

“Fei-jie… I’ll only tell you this. Don’t spread it.”

He swallowed.

“In the East China Sea… my dad used a broken fishing rod… and captured a Japanese nuclear submarine.”

Wang Fei’s hand trembled. The milk almost spilled.

“What… what did you say?”

“True! Colonel Chu from the military personally came to retrieve it!”

Wang Da Fu said passionately.

“My dad broke a 300,000-yuan rod on the spot. That’s real dominance!”

Wang Fei sucked in a breath.

Her eyes filled with deep awe.

So that’s why he locked himself in.

He wasn’t sulking.

He was dealing with a geopolitical storm.

A man who could seize enemy strategic weapons alone…

must now be calculating global military consequences.

“Don’t disturb him.”

Wang Fei stopped Su Wanyi from knocking.

“Mr. Yu’s current state… is beyond our understanding. He needs absolute silence.”

Inside the room—

Yu Xian had no idea what ridiculous legends were being built outside.

He was just hungry.

Starving, in fact.

But he couldn’t bring himself to go out.

The dignified Yu Xian—locked in a room because he couldn’t catch fish—was not a reputation he could afford.

Then—

A faint bubbling sound came from the corner.

glug… glug…

Yu Xian perked up.

A glass tank.

Inside were two small goldfish Su Xi had bought two days ago.

One red, one black.

Blowing bubbles carefree.

Yu Xian slowly sat up in the darkness.

His bloodshot eyes locked onto the tank.

“…Goldfish.”

He swallowed.

“Scales. Gills. Tail.”

“Fish.”

He stood up like a ghost.

From the wreckage of fishing gear, he pulled out a small pink children’s net used for catching jellyfish.

Step by step, he approached the tank.

His eyes burned with stubborn determination.

“Today…”

“I am absolutely going to see some meat.”