Chen Mo is immortal and has had enough of life.
The day the zombie virus broke out, he sighed with relief. At last, he could lie flat without feeling guilty. He couldn't die anyway, so why bother working hard?
While survivors fought for power, he fished for irradiated fish beside a nuclear blast crater. “What a peculiar-looking fish.”
When a new civilization rose and fell, he cast his line from the peak of a submerged city tower. “The wind's in a good direction today.”
When people in a later age worshipped the legend of the “Ancient Fishing God,” he was dozing beside a swamp. “Quiet. The fish are coming.”
Then one day, a devout church unearthed the bait jar he'd buried three hundred years ago.
“We found it! Divine bait! The bait that can save the world!”
Chen Mo looked at the believers kneeling all over the swamp and yawned.
“That’s just corn I pickled until it went bad... Well, take it if you want.”
“Oh, and can someone tell me...”
“How many more years do I have to lie flat before this damn world lets me fish in peace?”
