Chapter 48

Chapter 48 - Bob and His Five Friends

Island 58, much like Island 59 where Adrian resides, is home to many shipbuilders and coating workers.

If 59GR's buildings and industries are closer to a town, then 58GR is more like the countryside. Not that it's particularly impoverished here, but there's even a farm.

Adrian no longer felt like commenting on what kind of operation it was to plant other plants on tree roots. In any case, looking at the open surroundings and relaxed atmosphere, it seemed like a good place for retirement.

Bob's house looked like a simple little wooden cabin. It was surrounded by a wooden fence and had a small courtyard. There was a flower bed in front of the cabin, and pots of flowers and plants were placed on the inner side of the fence. In the yard, there was a trough that seemed to be used for raising fish.

One had to admit that the style of the cabin matched the island well. Maybe he could suggest hanging a birdcage at the entrance to keep a parrot.

Knocking on the door yielded no response; the door was tightly shut. Adrian shouted a few times and managed to call out a neighbor who informed him that Old Bob had gone fishing by the seaside.

"A small bay in the northeast direction. Really, waking up early and traveling five or six kilometers just to fish?" Adrian had no understanding of the thoughts of these retired elderly folks, nor did he grasp the allure of fishing as an activity.

Perhaps only Tom could understand. He had once caught Jerry as bait for fishing, sneaking past the watchdog guarding the fish pond, all for the thrill of catching a big fish.

Back in his own Bubble Car, Adrian assigned the task of riding to Artoria this time. While Tom was speeding, Artoria rode fast and steady, appearing quite composed.

Adrian sat in the back with Tom, his legs folded, able to see the scenery ahead over Artoria's raised hair. He was a bit worried that Artoria might suddenly spot a good food shop and perform a drift stop.

Luckily, she stayed on task, unlike Tom who, upon seeing a fish shop, had his eyes fixed and his head turned towards the store as it moved out of his field of vision, making a 180-degree turn before looking for a new target.

Adrian patted Tom's head, "Let's check out this area after we're done. We can buy some delicious food to bring back."

Artoria's hair fluttered in the wind, and the speed of the car increased.

...

Sunglasses, a floral shirt, beach shorts, flip-flops, a sun umbrella, and a folding stool. Bob, holding a fishing rod, looked as content as could be.

Next to him were five other seniors dressed similarly, each with a bucket, fishing gear, and bait beside them. Not far away, six Bubble Cars were parked in a row, all the same style as Adrian's, with carriers.

All six men seemed to be focused, with two not only holding fishing rods but also using stands to keep a second rod secure. It all looked quite impressive to Adrian, even though he was an outsider.

Adrian considered it impolite to shout out loudly when others were fishing, so he approached before greeting, "Uncle Bob!"

Swoosh, all six men turned their heads almost simultaneously to look at him. The scene felt oddly eerie, giving Tom a start.

Luckily, Bob broke the awkward atmosphere with his words, "Oh, it's Adrian, right? These two must be the Beautiful Knight and the Cat Pianist?"

Adrian felt that Bob was an easygoing person; he had reminded him not to use the "running" descriptor, and now Bob had indeed refrained from using it. But when had the term "Beautiful Knight" been coined?

And, he didn't even need to mention it before someone else did. The senior closest to him spoke directly, "So you're the 'Running Adrian,' huh! The unfortunate soul who bought Bob's crummy tavern."

"Did that old cheat swindle you?"

"Are you here to settle scores with him?"

"Don't worry about us helping, and we definitely won't call for backup either!"

Adrian: ???

So, Bob decided to retire from even running the tavern just to hang out with this bunch of troublemakers?

Bob laughed and scolded, "Get lost, you guys. While I might be a bit stingy in business, I've never earned dishonest money, got it? Now go catch your fish!"

In response, he received five middle fingers.

"Don't mind these rascals. They're all getting worse as they get older." Bob temporarily put down his fishing rod, unabashedly badmouthing his old friends. He then asked, "Adrian, did you come over this time with questions or problems?"

"Oh, I came to repay the debt this time." Adrian took out two stacks of bills.

"Huh? You managed to gather it so quickly?" Bob seemed surprised. Although he had gestured to Adrian that he could earn "this amount" in a month when selling the tavern, it was... well, a salesperson's skill, and he hadn't expected the debt to be repaid so soon.

"Just a bit of luck(?) and some extra income." Adrian wasn't sure if he should consider it good or bad luck.

"In that case, I won't stand on ceremony. Having such luck is really enviable." Bob glanced at Tom, who was currently playing with the fish in his bucket, clearly getting the wrong idea, thinking it was a performance by the Cat Pianist.

Actually, it could be said that Tom earned the money. With his peculiar fighting style, even without Artoria's intervention, those people might inexplicably lose their ability to move.

"Haha." Adrian didn't explain and got straight to the point, "Actually, this time I came to inquire about someone."

"Oh? Who?"

Adrian said, "A merchant named Bizzness. He claims to be an old acquaintance of the tavern, wanting to discuss business with me. I wanted to find out what kind of person he is."

"Bizzness?" Bob said doubtfully, "I haven't heard of such a person. I don't think someone like you described would frequent my greasy little tavern."

"..." Okay, this clue has been cut off. Bob doesn't know him. Where could he find this person?

"Oh!!! Go for it, little kitty!"

"Don't give up!"

Encouraging cheers came from the side. Tom was holding Bob's fishing

rod, deftly reeling in the line rhythmically with his left hand. The fishing rod was bent almost to the point of breaking.

Tom was being tugged around by the fish's strength, leaving shallow furrows in the ground with his heels. Then, determined not to lose, he pushed back, retracing his steps to his original position. The five old troublemakers formed a circle, not lending a hand but constantly cheering Tom on.

Bob: Who am I? Where am I? Is my fishing rod really this good?

Go for it, little fishing kitty!