On the sea surface floating with countless white bones, the buoy trembled madly as the fishing line was tugged again and again, bending the rod into a crescent shape.
People who fished always had a predictable mental habit that could be exploited: once they discovered something had taken the bait, they would definitely reel it in to see what they had caught.
If someone found something on the hook yet deliberately refused to reel it in, instead competing with whatever was underwater in a tug-of-war, wouldn't that mean they were sick in the head?
Deathstroke had met such a person before, but there had only been one. That lunatic's name was Joker.
In short, Horde Prime was clearly not that kind of mental patient. Otherwise, he would not have been able to build such a vast empire. It was fine to regard him as a normal person.
What was currently known was that White Bone Planet's artificial ocean was more like a giant pool for soaking bones. There was no food chain in it, let alone living fish.
In that case, it was easy to predict what he would do upon discovering that a living creature had taken the bait.
Horde Prime, his face a sickly yellow-green, rose to his feet. He shrugged off his red cloak, gripped the fishing rod with both hands, and gradually applied more force.
The fishing line began darting wildly across the water's surface, dragging the buoy up and down. If one looked closely at the path of the ripples, they would find that it sometimes traced an S shape and sometimes a B shape, as though hinting at something.
But the king, ruled by curiosity, did not think that much about it. He did not understand certain letter abbreviations from China either, so he