High School of Demon Hunting
Chapter 833 - 181: The Fishman Who Walked Out of the Lake Bottom

Chapter 833: Chapter 181: The Fishman Who Walked Out of the Lake Bottom

A Fishman dragged his heavy steps across the crowd.

Although he was draped in a large black robe that trailed on the ground, and his hood nearly covered his chin, hiding most of his features, a small section of the dorsal fin rebelliously pierced through the robe, revealing itself and thoroughly exposing the Fishman’s identity.

This also explained the strong, pungent stench that emanated from around this black-robed entity.

It was said by the elders, that Fishmen were a barbaric, brutal, and backward creature. Even though recognized as a civilized race by the Wizard’s Codex, their vast cultural differences made it difficult for them to be accepted into the Wizarding World.

Especially over a hundred years ago, during the Second Witch Demon War, when Fishmen stood on the opposing side of the wizards, their reputation in the Wizarding World severely worsened.

This was reflected in the attitude of the people towards this unfamiliar Fishman, which was openly hostile and distant. Wherever he passed, all wizards instinctively lowered their voices, pulled out their Lawbooks, and then stepped back a few paces, ready to cast curses at any disagreement.

The Fishman might not have felt the subtle atmosphere in the air.

Or perhaps he did feel it, but scorned it.

In any case, he kept walking steadily and unhurriedly forward, stopping only in front of the newly opened magic shop at number 97 on Pedestrian Street.

As a water-living magical creature, it was undeniable that the entire Fishman Tribe inherently detested the land. Dry air, low atmospheric pressure, and the pointing fingers of bipedal monkeys could easily frustrate a bad-tempered Fishman.

But Iseni wouldn’t.

He was an odd Fishman.

In other words, compared to his treacherous, untrustworthy, ambition-less kin, Iseni seemed more like a product of a genetic mutation.

He was a Fishman with ambition, or rather, high aspirations. He did not want to waste his whole life in the shallow waters of the academy courtyard, nor did he want to spend it in an underwater cave, breaking open hard-shell clams with a stone axe and sucking their bland meat, or staring vacantly at the lake’s bottom weeds drifting with the tide.

A lifetime of idleness.

The very thought chilled him to the bone, causing his dorsal fin to shiver.

Iseni wanted to explore the outside world.

An elder in his tribe used to say that if you followed the water channel from Lin Zhong Lake outward, till its end, you would reach a boundless blue world, home to distant kin of the Fishman Tribe—the Mermen and Sea demons. However, that blue world, just like the lands beyond the lake, was not so kind to Fishmen.

But these factors were not in Iseni’s considerations.

Whether the environment was suitable or not, or whether other races were friendly or not, nothing could deter this young Fishman’s desire to break through barriers and carve out his own little world outside the old fogeys’ drawn circles.

So, he trained in the coldest winters and the hottest summers, toughening his body, becoming the strongest among the young Fishmen; therefore, he was qualified to gather many restless young Fishmen from the lake bottom, to make deals with certain students from the school outside the lake, and to accrue heritage; and recently, he had agreed to a fat wizard’s invitation to join a newly formed wizard hunting team as a guest member.

A hundred years ago, wizards and Fishmen were enemies, with wizard hunting teams scouring the skies for these evil creatures hiding in stagnant waters, using their dorsal fins and eyes as trophies to flaunt.

A hundred years later, wizards could team up with Fishmen in the same hunting team, joke around carefree, and even entrust each other with their backs.

There’s nothing more absurd than this.

Of course, for Iseni, these nuances were too subtle and complex, and he opted not to waste his already limited intelligence to decipher them. He preferred to focus solely on what he strove for.

Previously, its understanding of the terrestrial world was limited, thus its trading partners were only some hooded wizard students. However, as time passed, and especially after several detailed discussions with the fat wizard, the young fishman started to see connections and suddenly had some insights.

It felt that it should also learn to "swim with two tails" — for instance, the trading partners for debris at the bottom of the lake could be slightly expanded; likewise, some quirky wizards on land might be interested in fishman cuisine and ornaments.

In short, it felt that it should expand its range as a trader.

During the recent hunting competition at First University, Iseni had met a young scholarship student. Although they didn’t interact much, it successfully portrayed the role of a qualified wizard. As a result, it had successfully expanded its connections in the terrestrial world.

So, when it recently received an invitation from the young scholarship student to attend the opening ceremony of a little shop on the lake’s bottom, it hesitated only briefly before agreeing instantly, even though it meant wasting nearly a week to complete a variety of complicated forms and undergoing the nearly rude inspections by the wizards from First University.

To show sincerity, it even attached a salted frog leg as a gift in its reply.

That was its favorite snack.

And all the efforts, all the sacrifices, would be revealed the moment it stepped into that little shop.

Before that, other irrelevant matters remained out of the young fishman’s sight.

Ding Ding Finance and Pest Control Company—

D&K

Iseni, holding the black and red card in hand, nodded after comparing every word and sentence, and stepped boldly over the low threshold of the little shop, squeezing in without any regard.

Cries of witches rose in the crowd, along with shouts of "It stinks!", "Did the sewer explode?", and "Is this a prank? Who threw a stink bomb?"

As the situation gradually became clear, the noisy crowd slowly quieted down.

Many wizards stopped gawking at the scenery outside or choosing products inside the shop and left angrily, seeming to feel that staying in the same room with the stinky creature from the lake bottom was a great humiliation.

Some wizards pulled out their codexes, watching the fishman’s every move with caution as if worrying that it might have ill intentions towards the shop.

Iseni ignored all this.

Behind it, the giant fish skin bag was clinking noisily.

Ignoring the surrounding eyes of astonishment, disgust, or greed, the bulky fishman slammed a fish skin bag onto the counter on the left side of the shop and muttered gravely:

"Mortgage, pawn."

...

When Old Man Ferna made his way through the crowd to the front of that small shop, he just happened to see the scholarship student negotiating with the fishman.

Smelling the familiar stench in the air, the old man suddenly understood and chuckled softly.

"All familiar faces, aren’t they?"