I Returned to the Village to Take Over a Ruined Fishpond, and Now I Can Hear Fish Talk

After losing his job, I returned to my hometown to find that the fishpond my father left me was bleeding money. On a midnight patrol, I heard fish cursing at the bottom of the pond. They knew who had poisoned the water, which section was about to turn, and which buyer was driving down the price. With this bunch of fish that could send warnings, swear up a storm, and even rat one another out, I turned a rundown pond into the county’s biggest aquaculture brand. But the more I listened, the more I suspected there was more hidden in that pond than just secrets about fish.