The Legend of the Fishermen of Sicily

Chapter 149 The Lonely Godfather

The morning theory classes were too frivolous, while the afternoon practical classes were somewhat more substantial, but not many.

The class was held in a 2-meter-deep public swimming pool.

Before the students officially entered the water, the diving instructor, with his bronze skin and well-proportioned physique resembling a bodybuilder, gave the five students a safety briefing.

Drowning is more common than you think.

"A two-meter-deep pool won't drown fish, but it would be a matter of minutes to drown the five of you."

"If a mistake is made during diving, there is no chance to make amends. You can only pray that you will be a more careful person in your next life."

"So young men and women, every word I'm about to say will determine when you go to heaven."

The two girls' faces grew increasingly grim... This was exactly what the coach wanted to see; trainees who were easily intimidated were the easiest to manage.

Leo looked up at the sky at a melancholy 45-degree angle, his head seemingly filled with sponges.

This is also the type of student that coaches really like: someone who doesn't like to study but doesn't bother others.

The other two fishermen were more annoying.

They were in the same situation as Leo, applying for diving and harvesting qualifications.

Relying on his experience as a fisherman, he would seize any opportunity to undermine the instructor.

To get these two annoying fishermen to behave, the coach decided to give them a more challenging experience.

Sicilian fishermen generally have low levels of education. They may be good swimmers, but their theoretical knowledge is very poor, which is their weakness!

"Before officially entering open water, you must repeatedly practice and master basic diving skills. I'm not referring to how to swim or how to dive. Even a gorilla can teach you simple swimming and diving. Today's course has only one focus—familiarizing yourself with all the mainstream diving equipment on the market."

He stood in front of the trainees: "Before putting on the equipment, the first thing to do is to organize your clothes. Loose fabrics are easy to tangle underwater. Remember the order I'm going to give you: first check the cuffs, then the hem of the shirt, and finally the trouser legs."

None of the trainees looked at the instructor; everyone was drawn to the actions of someone nearby.

Leo maintained his 45-degree head tilt. As soon as the coach stopped speaking, he began to mutter quietly. Although his voice was very soft, it could still be faintly heard: "Make sure you don't have any sharp jewelry, watches, necklaces, or rings on you to avoid scratching your mask and injuring yourself or your teammates."

The coach was speechless.

Why are people stealing each other's lines?

He quickly composed himself: "Now, pick up the diving masks placed in front of you. Before putting them on, make sure to apply an anti-fog treatment."

The coach spat roughly, his mouth stopped, then the other mouth started chattering quietly again, mechanically performing the actions as he spoke: "Flip the mask strap over the frame, fasten it to the back of your head and pull it tight, hold the mask in place with your hand, inhale through your nose, okay, start the test, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale..."

""

The coach chuckled awkwardly twice, patted Leo on the shoulder a couple of times, and praised him, "Very good. Did you practice beforehand?"

Leo snapped out of his daze and touched the mask on his face: "Starting to put on the equipment? Why aren't you putting it on in order? The order for putting on equipment is from bottom to top, from the inner garment to the accessories."

""

The coach smiled outwardly, but inwardly he was cursing.

I hereby declare that the student I hate most in my life has appeared!

After the two practical lessons ended, the coach smiled and said, "See you next time."

But Leo knew very well that this person never wanted to see him again in his life.

"I don't want to come to your makeshift training camp..." Leo muttered, grabbed his things, and hurriedly left.

Time is tight; the last rural bus to Marzamemi is about to depart.

Leo jogged along the wide streets of Syracuse, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone running across the street as well.

The two looked at each other at the same time, revealing knowing smiles.

"Are you taking this bus too?"

"Leo met his classmate on the bus," said a tall, thin fisherman named Nello.

The seat next to Nello was empty, but he didn't offer Leo a seat. He looked up and replied, "Yes, where are you going back to?"

In the morning, everyone didn't introduce themselves properly; they only mentioned their occupation and name, and nothing else.

"I'm going back to Malzamemi." Leo sat down in the empty seat behind him.

"I'm going back to Trenfano," Nello replied.

"Trenfano..." Leo repeated, the name sounding familiar, as if he had heard it somewhere before, but he couldn't remember where.

Before the car started, the two chatted casually about the diving training course they had just taken.

Leo bluntly described them as a makeshift operation.

Nello said the organization was a scam and taught nothing of value.

In the end, the two of them sighed helplessly, realizing they had no choice but to spend the money.

A shared hatred of the enemy temporarily brought the two closer. Nello turned to Leo and asked mysteriously, "Did you also switch to diving and harvesting because you couldn't make it at sea?"

Leo was taken aback at first, then shook his head: "No, I just want to apply for a harvesting license."

Nello turned around: "How lucky."

Leo leaned forward and asked, "What do you mean?"

Nero didn't want to say more and brushed it off: "It's nothing, just a casual remark."

Leo returned to the village just as dark was falling.

He didn't encounter any kind-hearted donkey cart drivers this morning or evening, and he had to walk a miserable 3 kilometers along country roads to get back to Marzamemi.

At this time, every household is preparing the most important meal of the day, dinner, and the whole of Marzamemi is like a fragrant oven.

Leo was already in a bad mood today; the treasure and the awful diving training course had left him exhausted.

The familiar scents of everyday life stirred a faint sadness within him, and then he let his mind wander: "If only I could get a warm hug when I get home at this time."

""

The Godfather's lonely figure was reflected in the mottled stone pavement.

There will definitely be no warm hug.

Thick arms can meet a pair of...

Leo returned to the shipyard and saw Enzo with his arms crossed and a stern face.

When the big guy saw him come back, he said to him bluntly, "I don't believe Bianchi when he said you'd put up with anything. Why did you bother to get a diving certificate? Look at the time. If I don't see you soon, I'm going to go home and sleep."

Leo sat down wearily across from him: "I can't apply for harvesting qualifications without a diving certificate."

"That qualification is utter bullshit!" Enzo cursed. "Go ask Marzamemi how many people have that qualification!"

Leo was unwilling to confront him head-on: "In a few months, we might see the whole village scrambling to improve their stats. I'm actually looking forward to it."

Enzo snorted fiercely, "Remember to call me one of these days. I'll quit my job to come back and watch with you."

Leo's expression turned serious: "Are you sure you want to go to the city?"

Enzo twisted his neck twice, as if he were about to hit someone: "I came to see you today for this very reason."

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