That Arctic Red Spot Salmon, weighing over a pound, was cleanly dispatched by Lin Yu'an to the fish constellation, tossed onto the snowy ground in the corner of the ice fishing shelter.
The fish blood's pungent aroma mixed with the charred scent of burning wood in the stove created a unique smell that only those surviving in the polar regions could detect.
His heart continued to pound powerfully, not because of the brief struggle just now, but because of the significance that fish represented.
It was a signal, a decisive one that validated all his conjectures and efforts.
He didn't pause, pinching another small piece of bait tinged with blood from the bait box, skillfully hooking it onto the now empty fish hook, then lowered the rig back into the bottomless ice hole.
"The appearance of the first fish proves my Scent Bomb theory is correct! It successfully attracted the predatory fish scattered downstream into my fishing range."
