In the end, there was no other way it could have come to be. But at the beginning, it wasn’t clear at all.
In my travels, I found I was always aware of fish. Fish that most people were unaware were even present.
I discovered that if I concentrated, I could find fish near to hand anywhere. Even in tall buildings or on city streets. Sometimes the source was obvious, such as a street vendor selling fish and chips. But often, the fish I could sense was invisible to others. I swiftly learned to keep my discoveries to myself.
When my motives were pure at heart, I could even occasionally hear the fish talking. Sometimes they had interesting things to say. Sometimes they were even helpful to me, either providing information that was directly useful, or simply pointing me in the right direction. Of course, the clearer the fishy directions seemed to be, the more likely I was to have misunderstood and set myself up for a bit of comic relief for others around me.
I swiftly learned that this was worse when I was not pure of heart.
And yet, it began to sink in eventually that the rest of the city thought of me as a villain. Apparently having invisible fish swimming around and gathering information makes you a particularly noxious villain no matter how pure your motives are.
It only takes a couple of lawsuits over leaked information before embracing the darkness becomes more attractive than continuing to defend one’s innocence.
And so I became what you see now. The Fisherman. Casting my nets far and wide, gathering secrets and holding them until the time is ripe. Blackmail is the simplest form of profit, made safer by my scaly minions who by this point are devoted to my well-being and highly unlikely to allow my victims any quarter.
And if nothing else, I will never go hungry.