Chapter 2 – "The Shark, the Yen, and the Flame"
The sky was sleepy.
Clouds floated overhead like lazy jellyfish, drifting with no destination and even less motivation. The sun hung low, spilling golden light over the sea like it had just woken up and immediately regretted it.
On the edge of a quiet wooden dock, a boy sat with a fishing rod in hand and boredom in his soul.
His name was Red.
Red wasn't particularly famous. He wasn't known for speed, strength, or even charm. What he was known for was sitting in the same spot every day, fishing with the patience of a rock and the enthusiasm of a sleepy cat.
He wasn't lazy, per se. He just didn't care for unnecessary effort.
His rod dangled in the water. His feet swayed. His mouth held a rice ball, half-bitten and forgotten.
"If I catch a fish, great. If not… that's fine too."
That was Red's daily philosophy: Minimal effort, maximum peace.
Then the rod twitched.
Red blinked once.
Then it jerked.
"Hmm?"
Then it snapped forward like a possessed noodle, and Red was nearly yanked off the dock.
"Oi! What in the seven spicy hells—?!"
His sandals squeaked across the wooden planks as he grabbed the rod with both hands. The reel spun like a roulette wheel in a casino run by sharks. Very angry sharks.
"Okay, this isn't a goldfish. Not even a tuna. This is some kind of aquatic warlord."
The dock creaked.
The rod trembled.
And then, like some monstrous ballet dancer of the sea, a shark breached from the water, twisting mid-air with a smug expression only a shark could pull off.
It landed with a splash so violent it soaked Red like a rice cake in miso soup.
"That thing just flipped me off with its body," Red muttered.
The shark dove back underwater and continued its aggressive dance. The rod bent again, and Red's muscles screamed in protest.
He looked down at the price tag dangling from his fishing rod.
"Two. Thousand. Yen."
He grit his teeth.
"No way I'm letting 2,000 yen die today."
FLASH!
Something stirred deep within him.
A flicker of warmth. A spark in his chest. A whisper in his soul.
Like a fire trying to be born.
He didn't understand it. But he felt it.
He pulled.
The shark pulled back.
He roared.
The shark thrashed.
With a final, primal yell, Red yanked the rod with both hands and leaned back like a madman tugging on fate itself.
SLAAAAAAP.
The shark crashed onto the dock with the elegance of a water balloon filled with meat.
Red collapsed beside it, panting. Drenched. Victorious.
He turned his head toward the twitching fish.
"Stay down… or I'll... deep fry your soul."
The shark flopped once. Then stopped.
Whether from respect or confusion, it surrendered.
---
Ten Minutes Later
Red trudged through the village path with the shark slung over his back like a particularly slimy backpack.
Children stared. Old ladies gasped. One dog barked, then immediately ran away.
"Is that… a shark?"
"I thought that kid just sat around eating squid chips."
Red offered a lazy wave. "Yo."
He kept walking until he saw something strange.
A man—thin, ragged, blue-haired—sat on a crate with a cardboard sign that read:
"No money. No Nen. No meals. Please help."
Red squinted.
The man looked up. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes dull. His expression screamed, "I've seen things. Bad cafeteria things."
Red paused.
Then, wordlessly, he dropped the shark from his back, drew a knife from his belt, and sliced the beast down the middle like he was auditioning for a samurai cooking show.
He shoved one half toward the beggar.
"Here. Shark."
The man blinked. "...Are you serious?"
Red raised an eyebrow. "You allergic to generosity?"
"No. Just... suspicious of people giving me half a sea monster."
"It's not a sea monster. It's a meal. Or two. Or ten, depending on how aggressive your appetite is."
The man studied him.
"Is this poisoned?"
"No."
"Cursed?"
"Not that I know of."
"Haunted?"
"It laughed once. That's all I'm sayin'."
The man stared at the fish. Then at Red.
Then his stomach let out a death roar.
He dove at the meat like it was the holy grail in steak form.
Red watched him scarf it down, then shrugged and resumed his journey toward the butcher.
---
Thirty Minutes Later
"Four thousand yen?" Red asked, eyes wide.
The butcher nodded, wiping his hands on a bloody apron. "That shark was a fine catch. Could feed a family for a week."
Red looked down at the bag of coins now in his hand.
He whispered to himself, "...snack money."
Then he walked out of the shop with a quiet joy in his heart and a loud growl in his stomach.
---
Shopping List:
3 meat buns: 900 yen
Spicy squid chips: 300 yen
Chocolate soda (limited edition): 400 yen
Turnip-shaped keychain: 200 yen
One shuriken (for reasons): 200 yen
Total: 2,000 yen.
Mission accomplished.
He leaned on a bench near the river, chomping on a bun while spinning the keychain around his finger.
"This is the life," he murmured.
Then a voice interrupted him.
"Oi. Red, was it?"
Red turned slowly.
There, standing in the alley's shade like some discount sage, was the blue-haired beggar from earlier—only now his eyes were sharp, and his posture wasn't so broken.
"You again? You full already?"
The man smiled.
"You have potential. I saw it. That fire inside you. It flickered earlier, when you pulled the shark."
Red blinked.
"I pulled a fish. Not destiny."
"You pulled more than fish," the beggar said cryptically.
"You eat fish brains or somethin'? You're sounding like an anime narrator."
The man ignored him.
"That flame. It's Nen."
Red choked slightly on his soda. "What?"
"Nen. The life energy within you. You awakened it."
Red frowned. "From fishing?"
"Sometimes the greatest strength is revealed in the most ridiculous moments."
Red slowly nodded.
"So you're telling me… I unlocked mysterious, supernatural power... because I was too cheap to let my rod break?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"That tracks."
The beggar laughed.
"I'll be watching you, Red. The world's changing. And you're going to be part of it."
Red stood up.
"No offense, homeless dude, but that sounds like a lot of responsibility."
"Maybe. But so does catching a shark on a Tuesday."
Red opened his mouth to argue, then paused.
"…Fair."
The man gave a small bow and turned to leave.
"Wait!" Red called.
The beggar looked back.
Red pointed at him. "How'd you know my name?"
The man smiled.
"Did I ever say I didn't?"
Then, like a magician with better things to do, he vanished into the mist.
Red stood in silence for a full ten seconds.
Then he sat back down and opened another meat bun.
"…Weirdest Tuesday ever."
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To be continued...
Absolutely! Here's an extended and funnier DBZ-style narrator outro tailored for your story, channeling that classic "Next time on..." energy with extra humor and flair:
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[Narrator Voice, booming and dramatic]:
"Our hero Red, once just a chill fishing enthusiast with a passion for snacks and zero ambition, has now entered a world where sharks fly, beggars vanish mysteriously, and mystical energy known as Nen awakens not through intense training… but through refusing to lose 2,000 yen. Yes, that's right. Fiscal responsibility has never looked so powerful!"
"But what lies ahead for our red-haired snack warrior? Who is the blue-haired stranger with sage-like hunger and mysteriously fast digestion? Will Red finally learn what Nen truly is… or will he just keep using it to get discounts at the local bakery?"
"And most importantly: will he ever get that keychain to stop spinning?"
"Find out next time, on the only show where sharks get bodied, fish fight back, and snack money is the true treasure—"
"AURA LEGACY!!!"
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