Chapter Fourteen: Hunting the Great Blue Fish

In fact, Lu Chen's guess was correct: crocodiles do have a limit to how deep they can dive. For instance, marsh crocodiles generally prefer shallow waters and rarely venture below five meters. Most crocodile species cap out at around twenty meters. The strange symptoms Lu Chen had experienced earlier were likely due to decompression sickness.

Decompression sickness typically affects humans who return too quickly to normal atmospheric pressure from a high-pressure underwater environment, resembling altitude sickness. Symptoms include joint pain, dizziness, nausea, and vomiting. Yet such symptoms are not unique to humans; animals can suffer from them as well. Although Lu Chen’s body had been strengthened, he was still just a young saltwater crocodile, not yet formidable enough to withstand everything. Without specialized training in diving, plunging suddenly to great depths would naturally provoke such severe reactions.

It's important to remember that for every ten meters of depth underwater, the pressure increases by one atmosphere. At thirty meters, that’s three times the atmospheric pressure found at the surface. An average person, without any equipment, can dive to about ten meters. Only trained professional divers can reach thirty meters or more. For Lu Chen to have reached thirty meters on his first attempt was already extraordinary.

Fortunately, the young saltwater crocodile’s body recovered well, and within half a day all aftereffects had disappeared—he was once again swimming effortlessly. With his body back to normal, Lu Chen shifted his hunting focus to the large fish in the lake. During his previous dive, he’d noticed plenty of sizeable fish, many over a meter long.

If he wanted to grow quickly, he needed to keep eating big fish. Only high-quality meat would provide enough energy to fuel his rapid development. The small fish and shrimp of the lake no longer tempted him; if he weren’t desperate with hunger, they wouldn’t even qualify as food. He couldn’t yet take on the meter-long snakehead fish, but grass carp, black carp, and bighead carp—despite their size—weren’t particularly aggressive.

The big fish, however, were especially wary. At the slightest disturbance, they would vanish in an instant. Lu Chen had tried to catch them several times but always failed. Their burst speed was too great; sensing danger, they could dart more than ten meters away in the blink of an eye. Saltwater crocodiles are fast in the water, but compared to fish, they lag far behind; he could only watch them go.

It was time to use his human intellect.

In his past life, as an experienced angler, Lu Chen knew fish habits well. During the day, big fish hid in deep water and were hard to catch. At night, however, when all was quiet, they would swim to the shallows to feed—that was his opportunity. As long as he used the right approach, he needn’t worry about catching big fish.

Acting at once, Lu Chen directed the other three young crocodiles to search the water for river clams and snails. Before long, a small mound of mollusks had piled up on the shore. Next, Lu Chen picked up a hard stone with his front claws. Crunch, crunch—he crushed the snails and clams into bloody fragments, then packed them into a plastic bag.

Holding the bag in his mouth, Lu Chen slipped into the water and chose a flat spot near the aquatic plants. There, he scattered the clam and snail meat evenly across the lakebed. This bait was meant to lure the big black carp.

Many people believe that the four major Chinese carp—grass carp, black carp, silver carp, and bighead carp—are strictly herbivorous. In fact, they are omnivores and often eat animal-based bait. Black carp in particular feed on zooplankton, snails, clams, and mussels. They are quite fierce, with pharyngeal teeth at the back of their throats capable of crushing hard shells to get at the flesh inside.

Once his baited trap was set, Lu Chen used his powerful claws to dig a shallow pit in the mud. He hid his entire body within it, his dark scales blending perfectly with the surrounding silt. Unless one came very close and looked deliberately, he was impossible to spot. The other young crocodiles did the same.

Lu Chen brought his companions along in case a meter-long fish appeared—he couldn’t subdue it alone. In previous hunts for king rat snakes and cormorants, the young crocodiles had coordinated well with him. He also wanted to train their hunting skills.

The lakebed here was just over a meter deep. During the day, sunlight could reach the bottom; at night the water temperature hovered around twenty-six or twenty-seven degrees—perfect for saltwater crocodiles. In summer, when the air is hot, big black carp love to feed at night in water one to five meters deep.

The stench of clam and snail meat quickly spread across the lakebed. Within ten minutes, Lu Chen saw several dark, bulky shapes flicker in the distance, then swim off warily. He wasn’t surprised and remained patient. Big fish are very cautious when feeding and will only approach once they feel safe.

Saltwater crocodiles’ greatest hunting asset is patience. Adults can lie motionless underwater for hours. Lu Chen and his companions couldn’t match that yet, but they could hold out for dozens of minutes. As expected, once the area seemed safe, a large black carp slowly approached.

By the faint moonlight reflecting on the water, Lu Chen locked onto his target. This one wasn’t a meter long, but still over sixty centimeters.

It swam up to the trap, opening its broad mouth to search the lakebed, making crunching noises as it chewed. It failed to notice several cold, watchful eyes in the nearby mud.

Closer. Closer still.

Boom!

The lakebed exploded in a cloud of silt. The impatient Lu Chen burst forth, biting down hard on the black carp’s body. His attack was the signal: the three other young crocodiles lunged, snapping at different parts of the fish.

Though this carp was about as long as Lu Chen, it weighed far more—at least twenty jin. Wounded, it thrashed violently, unleashing a tremendous surge of energy.

The lakebed churned, mud billowing everywhere. The carp struggled mightily, dragging all four crocodiles toward deeper water in a desperate bid for escape.

Many people don’t realize how powerful fish are underwater. A three-jin fish can exert a burst of force equivalent to over ten jin. A fish of more than ten jin can unleash dozens, even a hundred jin in a split second. In a tug-of-war with a fish, a human would most likely lose; that’s why so many anglers are dragged into the water by big catches.

Still, it was all in vain. Like the cormorant before it, the carp’s fate was sealed the moment all four crocodiles clamped down together.

Lu Chen had no intention of playing tug-of-war. He unleashed his ultimate move—the death roll—tearing a half-jin chunk of flesh from the carp’s belly. The other crocodiles followed suit, biting off more bloody meat.

In the murky, red-stained water, the mutilated carp seized its chance and sped away, trailing blood. Lu Chen and his companions swallowed the meat, then gave unhurried chase. The darkness of night made visibility poor, but the strong scent of blood was the perfect guide—they would not lose their prey.

Besides, the carp’s ruined body meant it had little time left. Its last frantic dash for freedom was nothing more than a final, instinctive struggle for life.