The Legend of the Fishermen of Sicily

We live in a society governed by the rule of law. Let alone making a high-profile display of force... even if someone were to bare their fangs and bite someone, they would at least be sent to a mental hospital for a checkup.

In more serious cases, it's not impossible that they could be taken into custody by the villagers and sent to the police station.

One moment he was pondering the likelihood of being punished for ignoring the task, and the next he was curious about what the "more abilities" mentioned in the system notification might be... Before he knew it, he had arrived near the tobacco shop.

Even though it's only 6 a.m., a lot of villagers have already gathered around here.

Leo's judgment was correct. In a small village like Marzamemi, most shops are built in the same area. He saw a grocery store, a bakery, a tavern, a coffee shop, a casual restaurant, a barbershop, a blacksmith shop, and an ice cream shop nearby.

The village, with just over 300 people, had an ice cream shop but no butcher shop... This discovery surprised Leo.

It was still early, and many shops had no business yet, or even opened their doors, but one shop was an exception—it was already bustling with people.

Just as the French cannot live without wine, Italians cannot live without coffee. A good day naturally begins with a cup of fragrant coffee.

Whether it was psychological or not, Leo could smell the rich aroma emanating from the coffee shop from a great distance, and for some reason felt that the liquid that could emit such a wonderful aroma must be extremely delicious.

He knew his presence would disrupt the peace of the coffee shop, but he was genuinely curious about what Italian coffee tasted like and needed an opportunity to connect with the locals and gather information.

Without much hesitation, amidst the wary gazes of the locals, I bravely walked in.

"An espresso, please." Leo ordered the cheapest coffee.

Thank goodness, it only costs 1200 lira.

If it doesn't taste good, I won't suffer too much loss for this curiosity.

Then Leo once again lamented the low prices in Sicily—low prices often mean it's hard to make money, so how can one make money here?

The coffee shop owner was a thin, middle-aged man with a slightly balding head, named Marco.

He sized Leo up and down with his sunken eyes for two or three seconds before taking the money, then turned around to prepare, but only two seconds later, he turned back to the familiar customer and complained:

"Can you smell that? What's that smell? It's like a box that's been filled with dead sardines for thirty days has been kicked open."

Leo blushed slightly, thinking to himself that this boss was really knowledgeable.

Upon touching the stack of banknotes, he was so overwhelmed by the stench that his mind went blank, his throat tightened involuntarily, and his stomach churned so badly that he just wanted to die... But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't think of a way to describe his tragic experience to anyone.

After the shop owner pointed it out, it really did taste like dead fish!

I really don't know where my uncle has hidden his secret stash of money.

All eyes in the coffee shop were on Leo; no one paid attention to the boss's roar and his pitiful plight. Leo was lucky to escape this social disaster.

He then casually found an empty seat and sat down, as if nothing had happened, and the damn smell had nothing to do with him.

However, being scrutinized by so many eyes was not a pleasant experience, so Leo found a way to end the quiet 'standoff'.

"Hello, my name is Leo Volpe, and I am the son of Solberto Corti's friend, but it seems that Uncle Solberto no longer lives in the village?" Leo asked the nearest villager.

Even after introducing himself and clarifying his relationship with Sorberto, the surrounding villagers remained wary and answered cautiously.

"Since he's the son of Solberto's friend, don't you know he doesn't live here anymore?" the villager asked warily.

Leo took his notebook out of his pocket and said regretfully:

"After my father passed away, I lost touch with my Uncle Solberto. I came here to surprise him, but I didn't expect that he had already left Calzamemi. But I have his home phone number."

Then, he walked over to Marco, who was making coffee:

"Can I use the phone here? Uncle Solberto isn't in Calzamemi, but his family should still be around, right? I remember he had a son, and we always got along really well when we met as kids."

In fact, Leo had no memory of Sorberto's son at all. It was his uncle Panini who told him that Sorberto had a son who was about the same age as Leo.

He also instructed Leo that Solberto was getting old and might have already retired, handing the shipyard over to his son. He told Leo not to blindly fawn over the wrong person and to act according to the circumstances.

Only after providing his name, family details, and even the phone number for the Solberto family, and producing so much evidence, did Leo barely gain a little bit of trust.

Marco handed the coffee to Leo, then started rummaging behind the bar:

"Solberto's son went to work in Rome. No one from his family lives in Calzamemi. I have his latest address and phone number. I'll call him and you can contact him."

Leo thanked him and waited for the boss to contact Solberto.

But they couldn't find the new phone. Then someone shouted, "You're back!" and all the villagers, including Marco, came out of the house.

Leo followed at the back of the crowd, also wanting to see what the commotion was about.

Suddenly, Marco, who had already run ahead, turned back and stopped behind Leo. As Leo took a step, Marco took a step, keeping Leo in his sight at all times.

Leo understood the situation and quickly caught up with the people at the front to prove his innocence.

"I don't know if they're wary of me, or if they're just this defensive towards everyone," Leo said, taking a sip of his coffee.

The first sensation upon tasting it was bitterness, so bitter that he couldn't help but open his mouth and inhale. As a large amount of air rushed in, his mouth cooled down rapidly, and his entire tongue was enveloped in oil, as if he had drunk a mouthful of rich dark chocolate liquid. After swallowing, the bitterness quickly faded, leaving a faint aroma of baking in his mouth.

"It's definitely not the same as the watered-down versions of Luckin Coffee and Codfield Coffee..." Leo took his second sip.

Although he wasn't used to such a rich and mellow taste, his body didn't reject it.

It's funny, Leo came out with his cup because of the suddenness of the event and his eagerness to taste it. He thought something had happened at the door, but he didn't expect it to have gone so far away.

Many of the villagers traveling with Leo were also carrying coffee cups, just like him.

This 'landscape' is truly peculiar.

Leo walked relatively ahead and quickly saw their destination: an open space on the coast where some villagers had already gathered before they arrived.

A little further out at sea, several fishing boats of varying sizes were moored. One by one, dark-skinned fishermen carried their catch to an open space on the shore, where people immediately surrounded them.

Leo also spotted Iso Castelli, the truck driver who had brought him to Marzamemi yesterday, in the same open space.

The guy was talking to a bald fisherman, and judging from his gestures, they seemed to be discussing the final price for buying all the goods.

"So it's the fish market..." Leo finally understood the situation.

Marzamemi is a coastal city where seafood is a very important food source for its residents.

However, not every household has someone going out to sea to fish. Many villagers will come here to buy the freshest catch when the fishing boats return.

As for Aesop...

Leo noticed that he had come to a second fisherman's catch, and judging from the strong seafood smell in his car, he must have been collecting fish in Marzamemi and selling them in Syracuse.

"My new dress!"

A sudden scream shattered the peaceful tranquility of the small fishing village.

Several leisurely elderly men holding coffee cups were startled and their arms trembled, spilling coffee and affecting innocent residents nearby. Several curses followed.

"Who started this trend of drinking coffee by the sea? From now on, no one is allowed to bring coffee here during fish market hours!"

"There are children here! Quickly control that tuna! Whose stall is that? Where are the people?"

"I have coffee in my hand, can you please stop making me slack off?"

"It's like someone doesn't have a coffee cup in their hand. Which idiot doesn't know that you have to kill a yellowfin tuna the moment it's caught?"

The scene was extremely chaotic at one point.

The situation only changed after three muffled thuds.

A handsome man with light brown eyes shook the wooden stick in his hand, looked at the spilled coffee cup with a pained expression, and then quietly returned to the crowd.

The surroundings were completely silent; even the children stopped crying and making a fuss. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the yellowfin tuna on the ground, which was over 1.5 meters long.

Just a moment ago it was full of energy, eager to leap over the dragon gate, but now it lies motionless on the ground, blood flowing continuously from its mouth.