"What's wrong with being too fragrant?"

"Being too fragrant is a big problem."

Chad Bennett deliberately tried to pick a fight, making things difficult as usual. He was always like this— the less clever he was, the more he liked to show off his cleverness, and his favorite thing was to stump the boss. After several rounds of questioning, Chad Bennett finally voiced his concern: "You definitely didn't consider this—if the bait is too fragrant, what if they just eat the bait and don't bite the hook? Wouldn't we all be out of luck?"

Hmm, that actually is a problem. Chad Bennett was indeed an experienced angler. Even Victor Smith had to admit there was some twisted logic to it. But unexpectedly, Dan Brooks burst out laughing, patted Chad Bennett's shoulder, and comforted him: "Haven't seen you this smart in a while, but Bennett, have you thought about this... You're so smart that you can think of it, but the fish aren't as smart as you, are they? How could they possibly figure it out? Right?"

"Oh, that's true."

Chad Bennett was stunned for a moment, then accepted the explanation. Victor Smith grinned widely. The only one in the whole school who could handle Chad Bennett was Dan Brooks. Only the boss truly understood how to talk to Chad Bennett, and could always win him over with a single sentence. As soon as this doubt was resolved, a new question arose. Victor Smith and Dan Brooks had just put down a bucket when Chad Bennett picked up the bucket and pressed on: "Egg Bro, what about the bait for catching softshell turtles? Didn't you say you'd show me? I've been fishing at Zhangze Reservoir for years. The wild turtles there are practically spirits now—catching even one is pure luck. The purchase price for anything under a kilo is over three hundred now."

"You're holding it in your hand—the secret weapon. Set it down and take a look for yourself." Dan Brooks smiled mysteriously, lifting another bucket, this one sealed. Victor Smith was curious and wanted to take a look too, but Dan Brooks held him back, glancing back at the boss with a secretive smile.

There was definitely something fishy going on. Victor Smith didn't dare go up, afraid the boss would play a trick on him.

But Chad Bennett couldn't contain his curiosity. He put down the bucket and impatiently lifted the lid. The moment he did, his eyes widened as if he'd seen a ghost in broad daylight. He let out a strangled "ugh," plopped down on the ground, clutched his nose, howled, and crawled away, fleeing as if he'd seen a ghost.

The stench—an indescribable, overwhelming stench—was so bad that even Victor Smith, standing several steps away, had to cover his nose. It was worse than the smell of an outdoor latrine that hadn't been cleaned in years. Only Dan Brooks didn't mind, covering his nose as he stepped forward, closed the lid, and smiled at the pranked Chad Bennett. After putting it in the car trunk, it took Chad Bennett a while to recover, spitting and gasping before he came back. Before he could say anything, Dan Brooks got into the driver's seat, gestured for them to get in, and explained as they walked: "It's fermented chicken intestines, pig liver, and some animal offal, with a bit of seasoning... Don't mind the smell. I don't usually tell people about this bait. Once we catch a turtle, you'll see how valuable it is. It took a lot of effort to gather this much."

"Really? I don't buy it. This stuff stinks so bad even people can't get close—any turtle would be scared away." Chad Bennett was skeptical. Dan Brooks smiled and explained, "Is that so? All I saw was you running away from the smell. You're Brother Chad, not the turtle's brother. Why wouldn't the turtle like it?"

Uh... The usually sharp-tongued Chad Bennett was stumped by the boss. Victor Smith grinned smugly and said, "Nothing more to say, huh, Bennett? Looks like only the boss can handle you."

"Tch." Chad Bennett tossed his head, always skeptical of authority. But when it came to fishing for turtles, the boss was the absolute authority—no room for doubt. So he changed tactics. As the car started, he asked Dan Brooks, "Wait, Egg Bro, if you feed the turtle such stinky stuff and then we eat the turtle, doesn't that mean we're eating that stinky stuff from the bucket too?"

As Chad Bennett spoke, he nervously pointed to the bucket in the trunk. That smell really wasn't something most people could handle. Victor Smith chuckled, long used to Chad Bennett's wild ideas. Most people couldn't answer his questions, but luckily the boss was here today. Dan Brooks asked Chad Bennett very seriously, "Oh, you make a good point... But have you thought about this, Bennett? The vegetables you eat every day are fertilized with manure. By your logic, doesn't that mean you're eating shit every day?"

Victor Smith couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing in the back seat. The ever-argumentative Chad Bennett was finally silenced. He grunted in protest, but couldn't come up with a better comeback, so he quieted down for the moment. Once he was quiet, Victor Smith knew Brother Chad was starting to rack his brains, trying to come up with a new challenge for the boss.

The car hit the road. The three of them had spent almost four years together in this kind of nonsensical bickering. Victor Smith glanced at the boss, Dan Brooks, whom he hadn't seen in a few days—still the same as ever, wearing his faded JEEP outfit, his face tanned dark. Every time he saw this roommate and boss, he always felt an inexplicable sense of warmth and respect.