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Now reading: Chapter 32: The Fishing Contest from Marvel: Starting with the Ice-Ice Fruit, a Action novel by Authorizz.

The Atlantic Ocean. Night.

"Right here," Vincent said, stopping the yacht. "I can feel it. There are monsters down there tonight."

Gwen looked skeptical but interested.

Initially, she had resisted the idea of deep-sea fishing at night. It sounded cold and boring. But holding the heavy-duty rod, feeling the ocean spray on her face, she felt a spark of excitent.

It was her first ti on a yacht, and the isolation was thrilling.

Vincent had an ulterior motive for the boat trip.

Too many eyes on land, he thought. SHIELD, Hydra, the Brotherhood. Who knows if they bugged the Long Island estate already? If I stay there, I'm broadcasting my private life to Nick Fury.

But out here? No signal. No satellites. No spies.

Just him, Gwen, and the open water.

The waves were rough, but Gwen stood perfectly balanced on the deck. Her spider-powers gave her supernatural equilibrium. Vincent, with his Baji-Mizong mastery and Ice-Ice Fruit enhancents, was equally stable.

If they fought hand-to-hand, Gwen's raw strength would crush him. But in the water? Or with his full power? She didn't stand a chance.

"Hey," Gwen said, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. "How about a contest? Loser has to grant the winner one request. Anything they want."

Vincent almost laughed out loud.

You want to challenge to a fishing contest? In the ocean?

Even ra would think twice. Do you know who you're talking to? I'm basically Poseidon right now.

But Gwen was confident.

Holding the rod, she felt like the fishing line was an extension of her own webs. Her Spider-Sense was tingling, picking up vibrations through the line that no human could detect. She could "see" the fish moving in the dark water below.

"Miss Stacy," Vincent grinned, leaning against the rail. "Don't regret this later. My request might be... unreasonable."

"I'm not scared of you," Gwen shot back, her competitive streak flaring up.

She wanted to win. She wanted to prove that she wasn't just a pretty face to be spoiled. She was Spider-Woman. She was strong.

And if she won... she would force him to tell her the title of his "best-selling book." The secrecy was driving her crazy.

"What are the rules?" Vincent asked. "Price? Quantity? Or weight?"

Gwen thought about it.

Price is too subjective. Quantity is boring. Weight... that's where I shine.

If I pull up a Great White Shark with my bare hands, he'll be shocked.

"Weight," Gwen declared. "Heaviest catch wins. One hour ti limit. Winner takes all."

"One hour?" Vincent checked his watch. It was past 9 PM.

Perfect. Plenty of ti to win and then... collect my prize.

"Deal," Vincent said.

The bank had stocked the yacht with professional gear and bait.

Vincent baited a massive hook with a whole fish and cast it into the dark waves.

He didn't even need to use active magic. His passive Hydro-Kinesis allowed him to sense every living creature within a mile radius. He knew exactly where the leviathans were sleeping.

Gwen cast her line.

Her Spider-Sense scread. Vibration. Left. Deep.

She adjusted her line, expertly guiding the bait toward a massive shadow she sensed below.

Bite.

The rod bent nearly double.

For a normal person, this would be a fight. For Gwen, it was a workout. She braced her legs against the gunwale and reeled.

Five minutes later, she hauled a massive grouper onto the deck.

Thud.

"That's at least a hundred pounds," Gwen said, wiping sea spray from her face. She looked at Vincent triumphantly. "Top that, Mr. Author."

Vincent chuckled. She's getting cocky.

Ti to cheat.

He focused his mind. Currents shifted deep underwater. A massive shape turned, lured not by bait, but by the command of the ocean itself.

Vincent felt the tug.

"Oh, Gwen?" Vincent said calmly, holding the rod with one hand while the reel scread. "I think I got a bite too."

He started reeling. No struggle. No sweat. Just inevitable force.

A dorsal fin sliced the water.

Then, a massive Great White Shark breached the surface, thrashing against the line.

Gwen's jaw dropped.

"Is that... a shark?"

"Looks like it," Vincent smiled. "About 800 pounds, give or take. Care to forfeit?"

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