Chapter Fifteen: The Boundless Wisdom of Humanity

A few minutes later, Lu Chen once again caught sight of the battered form of the giant blue carp. The creature had clearly exhausted its strength; now its body swayed unsteadily, struggling to maintain balance in the water, barely managing to swim.

Just as he was about to surge forward to deliver the fatal blow, a strange ripple stirred the lake again.

With a thunderous roar, a massive beast suddenly burst from the pitch-black depths below.

It opened its fearsome, blood-red jaws and clamped down on the remains of the blue carp!

The monster stretched over a meter long, its dark body covered with terrifying, irregular markings. Its two small, bean-sized eyes burned with ferocity and the aura of death.

Even in the darkness of night, its presence was strikingly vivid.

Its appearance seemed to instantly chill the waters within several yards, as if the temperature had suddenly plunged.

Damn it… a giant snakehead!

Lu Chen had never imagined that the giant snakehead he’d been fixated on would appear at this moment—and would brazenly snatch away his prey.

It was as if, after painstakingly saving up for a wedding, building a house, hiring a matchmaker, and hosting the banquet, just as the bride was about to enter the bridal chamber, someone else got there first. Who could he complain to?

Last time, Lu Chen estimated this monster weighed over twenty catties; now it looked closer to thirty. More terrifying still was its astonishing bite force—one snap was enough to crush the blue carp’s head to pieces.

Then, holding its prize, the snakehead swaggered away.

As for whether the giant snakehead could finish off the blue carp—there was no doubt. This species was notorious for its voracious appetite; its stomach could hold up to sixty percent of its body weight, often swallowing live prey half its own length.

During fights with its own kind, a snakehead could even devour another snakehead two-thirds its own size.

The overwhelming pressure was so intense that Lu Chen didn’t even dare make a sound, let alone any movement that might attract attention.

He had felt quite confident after taking down the banded krait, thinking he might challenge the snakehead in a few days. But after this close encounter, he realized just how vast the gap between them truly was.

Whether in length or weight, they were not in the same league. Even Lu Chen’s pride in his own bite force paled before the giant snakehead.

What’s more, in the deep water, his speed was no match for the snakehead’s.

If they truly faced off, perhaps he might be lucky enough to escape, but his three siblings would have no chance at all.

The disparity was simply too great.

But killing the giant snakehead was not impossible. As always, Lu Chen’s true strength as a bay crocodile with human intelligence lay not just in his physical power, but in his intellect.

He needed to devise a plan to kill this creature as soon as possible—there was no way he could allow such a formidable fish to exist in Willow Lake.

Otherwise, every time he hunted or swam in Willow Lake, he would have to remain constantly on guard.

Within half a minute, a rough plan for the hunt had already formed in his mind. It was rough, because frankly, it was nothing special.

Just as with hunting the great cormorant (blue carp), he would use bait to lure his target into a trap.

The plan was simple and old-fashioned, but effectiveness was all that mattered.

The only uncertainty was whether the snakehead would notice the bait—Willow Lake was enormous, stretching over hundreds of acres.

And with such abundant fish stocks, the snakehead was in no shortage of food.

Lu Chen had been there for two months and had only encountered the creature twice.

Still, he would do his part and leave the rest to fate. As long as he made every preparation, he believed that sooner or later, the monster would come looking for him.

With his meal snatched away, Lu Chen was in a foul mood. He decided against leading his fellow bay crocodiles on another underwater hunt. Instead, he caught a catfish among the nearshore weeds to fill his stomach, then returned to shore to practice climbing trees.

In the days that followed, Lu Chen remained busy.

He began to consciously patrol the shallow waters along the lakeshore, searching for a spot with the right topography to set his trap.

Soon, beside a patch of reeds, a narrow water channel caught his attention.

The channel stretched seven or eight meters long, about three meters wide, and more than a meter deep.

At the entrance, dense aquatic plants grew in profusion.

Even better, it sat near the north-south boundary of Willow Lake, at a spot anglers often called the “plough-tip”—meaning the odds of the snakehead passing through here were much higher than elsewhere.

With the location chosen, Lu Chen and his three young crocodile companions got to work.

First, they collected stones from the reeds, then used their claws to gather water plants and heap them by the bank.

These were not pointless chores; all the materials would be used for the trap.

Once everything was ready, Lu Chen laid a thick half-meter-wide layer of water plants at the bottom of the channel’s entrance, then pressed stones on top to hold it in place.

He repeated the process to build a second layer.

After two days, a half-meter-high submerged dam had formed at the bottom of the channel.

With the dam complete, Lu Chen led his companions to gather more water plants and branches, piling them on both banks at the entrance.

At this point, he suddenly remembered an old, broken gillnet he’d found on the lakebed during his earlier explorations. At the time, he’d ignored it, but now it could be of use.

With the trap ready, all that remained was to prepare the bait.

***

Dusk.

“Quack, quack…”

From the dense reed beds came a series of bird calls, tinged with fear.

It was a juvenile mallard, flapping its wings in a desperate attempt to fly, but unable to lift off from the water.

Only up close would one see that one slender leg was tied with a cord, the other end securely fastened to the channel’s bottom. Nearby in the aquatic weeds, broken clamshells, snails, fish flesh, and other remains were scattered about, forming a trail that stretched all the way outside the channel’s entrance.

A strong scent of blood spread with the current, eventually diffusing into Willow Lake.

On the bank near the channel’s mouth, loose piles of water plants were scattered. Lu Chen hid in the shade, eyes wide, fixed intently on the water. Beside him, the three young crocodiles lay in patient ambush as well.

This was the trap Lu Chen had prepared for the giant snakehead.

As long as the beast was lured in by the mallard and swam into the channel, Lu Chen would immediately seal the entrance with water plants and branches, trapping it inside.

Aside from its tremendous power, the snakehead’s greatest advantage was its incredible speed in water.

If he could restrict its movement, the combined strength of four bay crocodiles might be enough to kill it.

All that remained was to wait patiently for the creature to take the bait.

Most predatory fish have keen senses of smell, and the snakehead was no exception.

Its olfactory organs consisted of sacs on either side of the head, each with two nostrils, allowing it to detect even the slightest trace of blood in the water.

Lu Chen and the young crocodiles kept watch in the reeds all night.

By dawn, the giant snakehead had yet to appear.

This was no surprise—Willow Lake was vast, and who could say where the monster was hunting?

Other than patience, Lu Chen had no better options.

During the hot daytime, he and his companions returned to their cave to rest.

At dusk, after feeding, they resumed their vigil. The mallard, now resigned to its fate, no longer struggled to escape, but simply glided quietly on the water.

With plenty of scattered food, it would not starve.

The second night passed in vain.

On the third evening, just as Lu Chen was about to lead the young crocodiles out for another ambush, he suddenly heard the barking of dogs outside.