Chapter 44: Chapter 44: An Ordinary Person’s Breakfast
A copy of the Plunder News costs twelve pesos, equivalent to a meager breakfast, or the cheapest dessert in Cross District—the paper can be bought from newsboys on the street, or one can walk a bit further to the newsstand at the end of another street.
Duncan, with a few coins in his bosom, purchased a local newspaper at the newsstand. The middle-aged owner, engrossed in reading, waved his hand to signal self-service after hearing the clink of Duncan’s coins in the box, without ever lifting his head.
Duncan peeked at what the other was reading and found it to be an analysis article on a past lottery draw, adorned with colorful lines sketching out all kinds of unrealistic fantasies.
He looked down at the newspaper he had just bought, and the front-page headline was the news he was most interested in:
The respected Church Guard under the leadership of Judge Fenna Wayne successfully destroyed a Sun God Heretics’ gathering spot and captured a large number of followers on site, while also rescuing several citizens…
The photo of “Her Excellency the Judge” was printed beside this piece of news. Contrary to Duncan’s expectations, it was a young woman, with a conspicuous scar over her left eye, yet she could still be considered a beautiful lady—she stood with her subordinates, towering a half head above every man surrounding her.
The Judge, dressed in tight, light armor and a battle skirt, also carried a two-handed greatsword as if she had stepped out of the era of cold weapons, resembling a knight of medieval paintings—however, behind this lady and a group of Church Guards, one could see a huge Steam Armored Robot, which even had conspicuous turret structures on it…
A curious and eerie combination of styles, paradoxical yet harmonious.
Duncan’s gaze lingered on this photograph for a long time.
The news of the Heretics’ meeting point being eradicated was good news for him as he could see those villains caught and punished for human sacrifices without worrying about his own identity being exposed, and on the other hand, he was more focused on the various pieces of information the photograph revealed.
A female Judge specialized in dealing with Heretics, fully armed Steam Armored Robots, Church armed troops equipped with both cold and firearms…
Information that was extremely difficult to obtain on the Homeloss could be clearly seen in a civilized society with just a twelve-peso newspaper.
As Duncan had thought before—with Homeloss aimlessly adrift for a century, the times had changed.
Even without considering “who could fight better” from such a superficial perspective, the mortal civilization represented by the Plunder City-State had developed to a stage that could be described as… fascinating.
The intersection was not a good place to read a newspaper. Duncan casually rolled up the paper and tucked it away, remembering Nina, the “niece” at the antique store, was waiting for him, so he turned back.
A local who inherently trusted him was obviously a better source of information than wandering aimlessly around the city alone.
As for the Homeloss, Duncan was not worried—even in a state of Spiritual Projection in the Spirit Realm, he could still sense the situation on the Homeloss, and the state of his other body, with the goat-head man at the helm and Eli looking quite well-behaved. He should be able to act here a little longer.
After all, the original crew rules of the Homeloss stated that “the captain occasionally leaves the ship,” so it wasn’t a big deal for the captain to take a leisurely stroll in the Spirit Realm for a couple of days, right?
Moreover, with the continuation of Spiritual Projection, Duncan felt he was gradually becoming more proficient in controlling this special “spiritual projection.” Perhaps before long, he could try to simultaneously control the activities of both bodies—making it even less of a worry regarding the ship’s conditions while he walked in the Spirit Realm.
Just then, a sweet scent suddenly wafted over from the side, causing Duncan to stop in his tracks and look beside him. He saw a street-front cake shop, with freshly baked pastries being displayed outside.
This was the Lower City District of the Plunder City-State; naturally, there were no high-end pastry shops here, but even the cheapest, coarsest pastries made Duncan halt in his steps.
He still had a few coins in his pocket, less than twenty pesos in total, but it was more than enough to buy a piece of cake.
After hesitating for a moment, he approached the cake shop and paid for the most common honey cake—the shop used some coarse, thick paper as packing material, rough to the touch.
Walking to the antique store with the newspaper and cake in hand, Duncan’s mood inexplicably brightened.
Walking the streets, talking to people, buying things, returning to one’s residence.
Such simple activities gave him a feeling as if from another lifetime—he savored the sensation of breathing on land meticulously and regarded these ordinary daily experiences as precious aspects of life.
Life on the Homeloss was actually not bad, the goat-headed crew was noisy but reliable, and Alice was an interesting fellow, but experiencing life on land was not too shabby either.
Before long, Duncan returned to the front of the antique shop and, before pushing the door open, he still looked up first at the sign above the shop–the letters “Duncan’s Antique Shop” still quietly printed on it, with the antiquated texture that seemed unchanged for nearly a decade and a half.
He pushed the door open, and the bell clinked crisply, followed by a burst of hurried footsteps coming from the direction of the stairs.
The young girl with brown hair rushed down, then skidded to a stop at the stair landing, clutching a pillar beside her and staring at Duncan with wide eyes, her expression tense and worried.
“Uncle Duncan, where did you go?” she spoke rapidly, “You said you were just going to look outside, but then you vanished… I thought you had gone to the tavern or the gambling den again…”
Duncan looked at the girl before him with a bit of surprise, he could tell that she was genuinely tense and worried about something.
She was concerned about the only relative she had in the world, and one she depended on for life–even if this relative was a degenerate and irascible drunkard who indulged in gambling and who was secretly mixed up in the bloody dealings of heretics.
A feeling he couldn’t clearly define or explain began to emerge, but there was no change in his expression, “I just went out for a walk, and picked up some things on the way.”
As he spoke, he walked toward the shop’s counter, intending to place the newspaper and cake on it, while Nina seemed to suddenly relax. She then hurried back upstairs, saying rapidly as she ran, “Uncle, just wait a moment, I’ll bring down the breakfast–you surely haven’t eaten breakfast at this time, I made corn and beetroot soup…”
Before Duncan could reply, Nina had already disappeared up the stairs, and after a little while, she returned, carefully carrying a large tray down.
On the tray was a simple breakfast for two.
Duncan looked somewhat dazed at the girl bustling about, watching her adeptly clear a spot on the counter and arrange the food, then move to the side to bring an extra chair for herself…
Her movements were especially deft and carried a cheerful energy the source of which was unknown.
Duncan observed her busyness, thinking to assist but realizing he couldn’t find an opportunity to interject.
He had dealt with plenty of young people her age, but he had hardly ever seen a child as diligent and efficient as her.
On Earth, she should be just of high school age, even here, she looked like a student.
Suddenly, Duncan considered how living with an uncle fallen into heresy mustn’t be easy–yet this girl named Nina seemed to have fully adapted to this life that could not be described as happy, and she could still find things to support her in life.
“Let’s eat,” Nina was ready with everything at this point; she glanced at Duncan and began, as if she had said it countless times before, “Dr. Albert has said if you could eat breakfast regularly and maintain a good mood, in the long run, that would be more effective than spirits… even more than painkillers.”
But Duncan was silent for a moment, just quietly watching Nina, and before her expression could turn uncomfortable and tense, he picked up the cake he had set aside earlier and opened the package, placing it in front of Nina.
Nina’s eyes widened in surprise, looking puzzled at the item in front of her, “What’s this…?”
“Cake, bought from the street corner,” Duncan said offhand, “You’re growing, so you should eat something nutritious for breakfast.”
However, Nina was stunned, just staring blankly at the cheap pastry in front of her, taking a long time before finally seeming to snap out of it and murmuring almost to herself in a low voice, “You’re really alright, aren’t you?”
“Of course, I’m fine,” Duncan replied with a quite natural expression, “I just suddenly remembered, it’s been a long time since I bought you any sweets.”
“Indeed, it’s been over a year…” Nina mumbled, but then she suddenly burst out laughing, while picking up the cake fork, “Let’s have half each then, Dr. Albert also said you need something nutritious.”
Duncan felt odd but after a moment of silence, he nodded.
“…Alright.”