Chapter 64: Chapter 68: Reliable Pigeon Express
A cool sea breeze suddenly swept across the deck, causing Captain Lawrence, who had just stepped outside from the interior, to rub his arms subconsciously—but he didn’t know if the prickling sensation was due to the cool sea breeze or because of what the young Judge had told him.
Anomaly 099, the Doll Coffin, possessed not only the ability to move and break free but also the capacity to continually expand its influence. It could constantly assess targets within its range, executing an unconditional beheading. Only saints might resist this near-causal effect of beheading…
During the past half-month voyage, he and his crew had been living in close quarters with this dangerous anomaly—although the truth was that aside from the final encounter with the Homeloss, the transport mission had been uneventfully safe. Yet, upon reflection, he still felt a touch of fear.
But it was just that, fear after the fact.
He was a member of the Explorers’ Association, a seasoned maritime explorer. His work involved dealing with the Endless Sea—unlike those fishermen who only sailed in the safer coastal waters, the majority of his seafaring life had been spent dealing with all sorts of anomalies and supernatural occurrences.
When taking on anomaly transportation tasks, the authorities or the church would always inform him of the risks involved with the process, and this information was usually the shortest part of the entire contract agreement, typically just one line: This mission poses a fatal risk, specific details cannot be disclosed.
Every captain making a living between City-States knew what they were up against, and more than half of them were haunted by their fatal profession in their later years—years of grappling with the Endless Sea, anomalies, and supernatural phenomenon always left their mark on one’s fate.
Many of his peers had already retired; some were trapped in endless nightmares, others endured mental anguish due to various curses, or came back from long voyages with physical disabilities… or worse.
Captains and sailors on ocean-going vessels had incomes that far exceeded what residents of the City-States could imagine, along with “occupational illnesses” that surpassed any other profession.
Captain Lawrence didn’t consider himself a very noble person; he was in this line of work primarily for the money. Of course, he had a keen passion for exploring the sea in his youth, but like most people, youthful passion is hard to sustain throughout life, and now… he felt it was time to extinguish that passion.
It was best to retire while his mental state was still normal, while the Endless Sea had not yet ensnared his fate.
Lawrence sighed softly and turned to walk slowly toward the direction of the captain’s quarters.
The search and questioning of the entire ship by the clergymen were not yet complete, and before that, he could not leave the White Oak. After that, he was to be transitioned with everyone to the church to undergo quarantine observation and a series of mental assessments.
His gaze swept over the familiar fixtures of the ship.
This was a good ship, and it was new. He had only taken command of it five years ago. In the colloquialisms of captains on the Endless Sea, “the honeymoon between captain and ship has not yet passed.” To be honest, retiring did feel a bit reluctant.
But retiring now was better than dying on some future voyage or spending the latter half of his life in a madhouse.
…
In the Lower City District of the City-State, inside the old Duncan’s Antique Shop, the middle-aged man lying on the bed upstairs slowly opened his eyes, the somewhat stale and moldy ceiling came into Duncan’s view.
“Huh…”
Duncan exhaled lightly, feeling his perception of this body become rapidly clear and stabilized, feeling his control of this body shift from remote manipulation to direct mastery. After a few seconds to adjust, he used his arms to push himself up energetically.
The pigeon, Ai Yi, fluttered over, pecking at its beak near his bedside and squawking, “Darling, welcome home. Would you like to eat first, take a bath, or…”
Duncan was just about to stretch when Ai Yi’s words caused him to nearly cramp up, and he smacked the pigeon on the head, “Where did you learn all these phrases?!”
Clearly not an ordinary bird, Ai Yi took the slap from Duncan unfazed and casually sidestepped, continuing to chatter, “A punch ‘thwack’ right in the nose, blood gushing, nose crooked to the side, as if opening a soy sauce shop…”
Duncan immediately set the nonsensical bird aside and stopped paying attention to it, rising from the bed to look at the table not far away.
On the table lay all the experimental items that he had prepared aboard the Homeloss: the Sun Amulet, a dagger, cheese, cannonballs, and a salted fish.
Everything was in place. All these unrelated items together, and there were no instances of Ai Yi losing any of them.
This pigeon turned out to be more reliable than he had initially believed.
Duncan moved forward, checking each item on the table. Confirming that everything was complete and undamaged, he couldn’t help but look back at the pigeon pacing on the bed, and a bit of appreciation for the bird fluttered in his heart.
Then he saw Ai Yi pacing steps around the head of the bed; by this time, she had her back turned and had reached the passage “When Ruda looked back, he saw Zheng the Butcher lying on the ground”…
Duncan: “…”
He tucked away the admiration in his heart, and then sat down at the desk to start checking the condition of those “goods” one by one.
First was the Sun Amulet, which was unchanged—as a transcendent item that had been completely transformed and controlled by the fire of a Spiritual Body, it still calmly flowed with a gentle power within. It seemed that traveling to the Spirit Realm twice had not affected the amulet’s traits.
The dagger without transcendent properties also seemed unchanged; apart from its antique style, its blade was still sharp, and its sheath, well maintained.
Duncan’s gaze fell on the block of cheese brought from the Homeloss’s kitchen.
The cheese showed no abnormalities and remained in an inedible state. It had not, as Duncan had imagined, rapidly spoiled or vanished into thin air after leaving the Homeloss.
He then looked at the artillery shell—the shell lay quietly on the table, unresponsive to the captain’s scrutiny.
Duncan pushed the shell, then tapped its cast-iron shell.
The transcendent trait had faded from the shell.
On the Homeloss, even the shells were “active,” which of course didn’t mean that each shell had an independent “thought,” but the ship’s entire ammunition system was controlled by a unified “consciousness,” and as “sub-units” of this consciousness, the Homeloss’s shells would even adjust their positions and accept “inspection” immediately when watched by the captain.
According to Duncan’s observations over a period of time, the Homeloss’s weapon system should be controlled by two “consciousnesses”: one for the ammunition system and the other for the several dozen cannons below the deck, each likely responsible for the loading and firing during combat, controlling every “member” within their own systems.
This shell in front of him obviously lost control from its higher consciousness upon departure from the Homeloss and had become an unremarkable chunk of iron.
Duncan was contemplative.
If he were to take this shell back, would it become part of the ammunition depot again? Would the Homeloss still “recognize” this “sub-unit” that had left and then returned?
His thoughts extended further—the ammunition aboard the Homeloss was limited; shells fired would not return (the eight shells used to weigh down Alice’s storage hadn’t come back), so… could the ship’s ammunition be replenished? And how would newly added shells become “sub-units” of the Homeloss?
Extending his thoughts a bit more: Could the Homeloss upgrade its cannon system? More advanced cannons, more advanced shells—would these things work aboard that ship?
The Homeloss was a ghost ship, which meant it was difficult to supply and… “improve,” like regular ships, easily. Items brought aboard were just “external items,” and if they couldn’t successfully integrate into the Homeloss, then these external items wouldn’t have the convenience of “self-operation” like the ship’s other facilities.
But if there was a way to make these things part of the Homeloss… then that ghost ship might exhibit even greater power.
And have better living conditions.
Duncan couldn’t help but think a lot in this area.
The more he interacted with the modern Plunder City-State, the more he felt that the Homeloss from a century ago wasn’t as bright and perfect as its illustrious reputation—
That ship might possess strange and terrifying power, but it didn’t even have electric lights, nor potato fries; its weapon system was still the old muzzle-loaded cannons, and their effectiveness was questionable, and again, no potato fries. While the sails of the Spiritual Body were handy, having a set of steam machinery as an auxiliary power source clearly wasn’t bad either. Yet the ship didn’t even have a boiler to heat water.
And no potato fries.
Duncan silently glanced at the pigeon that had hopped onto the windowsill and was gazing blankly outside.
The pigeon turned its head, blinking its mung-bean eyes at him: “Go to the docks for some fries?”
“Shut up, don’t mention fries,” Duncan responded with a subtle mood, then turned his attention to the last item.
A salted fish, a natural delicacy harvested from the depths of the ocean and processed, tasted not bad and belonged to the “outside of the items of the Homeloss.”
After the excursion through the Spirit Realm, this salted fish appeared to have no change.
He would make a soup with it for Nina tonight.
