Chapter 2 - The First Warning
For a moment, no one spoke. The lake remained quiet except for the sound of the bucket sinking beneath the water and the fish flapping weakly on the wooden boards.
The tallest bully expected the old man to beg, apologize, or stumble backward in fear. Instead, the fisherman stood with his shoulders relaxed and his fishing rod still in one hand.
That calm bothered them more than shouting would have.
"What are you staring at?" the bully snapped.
The old fisherman looked at the ruined catch, then at the young men.
"You should leave now," he said softly.
The three bullies burst into laughter.
"Did you hear that?" one said. "Grandpa is giving us orders."
Another stepped closer and shoved a finger toward the fisherman's chest.
"You don't tell us what to do. People pay us if they want to stay here."
The fisherman remained still.
"I paid my respect to this lake for forty years," he replied. "That is enough."
The words sounded strange to the bullies, but an elderly man across the shore suddenly froze when he heard them. He lowered his fishing line and stared carefully at the old fisherman, as if recognizing something from long ago.
The bully with the chain reached for the fishing rod.
"Maybe we'll take this too."
Before his fingers touched the rod, the fisherman shifted his wrist slightly. The motion was small, almost invisible. Yet the young man's hand missed completely, and his own momentum pulled him forward.
He stumbled.
The dock creaked under his boots.
His friends laughed at first, but their laughter faded when they realized the old man had barely moved.
The tallest bully narrowed his eyes.
"You think you're clever?"
The fisherman sighed.
"No. I think you're young."
That answer hit harder than an insult.
May you like
The tallest bully raised his fist.
Around the lake, people stopped breathing.
