Chapter 107 “Super Contagious”
This Translation is hosted on bcatranslation.com
The tranquil waves of the ocean rose and fell in a rhythmic dance, providing a smooth journey for the ghostly vessel known as the Vanished. Despite having been at sea for several days, the ancient ship had yet to encounter any islands, buoys, or other landmarks that could serve as navigational aids on this seemingly never-ending journey.
Captain Duncan, the man steering this enigmatic ship, found that the long voyage provided him little opportunity for idleness. Numerous concerns demanded his attention and intellectual engagement.
Retreating once more to the solitude of his private chamber, Duncan’s eyes briefly fell upon a golden mask shaped like a sun, quietly resting on his desk. However, the mask was just one of many things on his mind, and it could wait.
Issues related to Alice were also on the back burner for now, as were follow-up experiments and research into the mysterious “Anomaly 099.” The Frostbite Rebellion, a significant uprising that took place five decades ago, did not demand his immediate scrutiny either. Yet, there was one concern that felt deeply personal, tugging at his core.
Above his desk hung a mirror. Once, its surface had flickered with emerald flames and projected images. Now, it was just a plain, lifeless glass. Nonetheless, Duncan sensed that the almost intangible, fuzzy “connection” he had once felt through the mirror still existed. It seemed to beckon him toward a cathedral located in the heart of the City-State of Pland.
This faint link was reminiscent of his more robust connections to the “Antique Shopkeeper” and the “White Oak,” yet it was different—more tenuous, almost like a secondary channel that stemmed from a more definite link.
Closing his eyes gently, Duncan noted a minuscule opening appear on a brass compass that lay atop a chest labeled ‘Ai.’ From this tiny gap, an ethereal green flame emerged, quietly burning.
Moments later, he found himself surrounded by a celestial void, a dark expanse punctuated by myriad twinkling stars and streams of luminescent light. Unlike previous occasions, Duncan refrained from embarking on a “spirit walk.” Instead, he lingered at the edge of entering the spirit realm, meticulously studying the intricate patterns of light and individual stars.
First, he observed the most radiant star in the space, which symbolized his other self who was busy cleaning a warehouse and doing inventory at the antique shop. Next, his attention was caught by a diffuse haze of light, significantly larger than a typical star. This represented the “White Oak,” a steamship that had once disastrously collided with the Vanished, only to be reduced to ashes by Duncan’s spiritual flames.
Among a sea of indistinct, nebulous stars, one in particular caught his eye – a star that held a faint, elusive connection to him. Intrigued, Duncan drew closer, eager to scrutinize this mysterious cluster of starlight in more detail.
As Duncan moved closer to the mysterious cluster of starlight, he felt a gentle but discernible force pushing back against him. The sensation wasn’t overwhelming; rather, it felt like an innate, unyielding will safeguarding itself. Duncan intuited that he could probably obliterate this subconscious barrier with his spiritual fire, but he decided against it. He pulled back slightly, maintaining a respectful distance from the mysterious luminescence.
He suspected that the entity represented by this particular starlight was likely Vanna, an Inquisitor who also held the title of Storm Saint—a formidable supernatural entity. Making contact recklessly could potentially alert not just Vanna but, in a worst-case scenario, even the god or deity she served. Given Duncan’s limited understanding of the pantheon of this world, he was unwilling to gamble.
Moreover, he pondered the nature of this faint but clear repulsion emanating from the starlight. Each of these celestial points seemed to have their unique traits. When he first took possession of the body designated as the “sacrifice,” he encountered no such resistance. He also didn’t feel any pushback when he inhabited the newly deceased body of Ron, a cultist. So, why did Vanna’s starlight repel him?
Was it because she was still alive? Could it be her living spirit instinctively resisting an unknowable encroachment? Or was it a protective layer instilled by her faith and a divine blessing?
Duncan eased back, pondering these complexities as he cautiously reached toward another nearby cluster of starlights. He halted his hand just a moment before making contact—no pushback, no repulsion.
In subsequent attempts with different clusters of starlights, he found none that rejected his spiritual presence. In fact, in some of these constellations of light, he sensed novel elements. Some appeared to radiate the essence of life itself, while others seemed to subtly recoil as though they were instinctively shrinking away from an impending, overwhelming force akin to the shadow of death.
Retreating to a space where no cluster of starlight could reach, Duncan looked down at his own hands. Ethereal green flames swirled around in the darkness, casting otherworldly shadows that weaved through the gaps between his fingers.
He noticed that with each subsequent “spirit walk,” his control and perception of these enigmatic flames were becoming increasingly refined. Astonishingly, he could now even sense signs of life within those distant clusters of starlight.
With a slightly furrowed brow, Duncan turned his gaze to the sprawling darkness before him. There, countless pinpricks of light dotted the vast expanse, creating a chaotic yet awe-inspiring tableau.
Although he had always exercised caution, choosing not to venture too deeply into this mysterious realm, just observing the scale of these twinkling lights led him to contemplate their staggering multitude. It was a vast, intricate web, and he realized he was just skimming the surface of an even grander, more complex cosmos.
Initially, Duncan had operated under the assumption that the starlights in this ethereal realm represented bodies of the recently deceased that met particular conditions. This notion was formed based on his first two experiences of spiritually attaching himself to corpses. However, the vitality he now sensed emanating from some of these celestial points challenged his original hypothesis.
Clearly, these starlights were not limited to representing the deceased; they also encompassed living beings. His initial experiences with possessing corpses had been circumstantial rather than indicative of a universal rule.
Vanna, the inquisitor he’d identified among the starlights, was a case in point. She was unquestionably alive.
Could it be possible, then, that these innumerable starlights represented every living and deceased being in this world?
This idea unfurled naturally in his mind, gaining a semblance of plausibility. But Duncan shook his head, banishing the thought almost as quickly as it had surfaced. It was too soon to leap to such sweeping conclusions.
Though a multitude of starlights populated this otherworldly space, and the world he found himself in had a smaller population than Earth, he doubted that the visible array of celestial points could account for every living and deceased being globally. There were complications to consider—how could one quantify the number of the deceased? Would the count include everyone who had ever died, or just those whose bodies remained? Would even fragments of a body suffice, or must the time since death be within a certain threshold?
And then there were anomalies, like the diffuse haze of light that corresponded to the “White Oak”—a ship that manifested its own celestial representation in this realm. How could such peculiarities be accounted for?
Thus, it was premature to definitively label these starlights as a comprehensive catalog of the world’s living and deceased—at least until he had amassed sufficient evidence to substantiate such a claim.
However, one point was indisputably clear: almost all of the starlights showed no signs of repulsion toward him. The exception was the starlight associated with Vanna, the Storm Saint, which exhibited a self-protective aura.
This peculiar resistance triggered Duncan’s curiosity about the nature and extent of “faith-based power” in this world. Regardless of how potent the protective barrier established through Vanna’s faith might be, it had failed to obstruct a deeper, albeit hidden, connection between her and Duncan.
That left Duncan with one lingering, unresolved question: When and under what circumstances had this mysterious connection between them been forged?
Engrossed in the shrouded darkness that enveloped him, Duncan deeply contemplated the enigmatic connection he seemed to have with Vanna—an inquisitor he had never physically encountered. His mind cycled through theories and scenarios, dismissing them one by one, until a daring thought flashed into his consciousness.
Could the link between them be connected to the first body he had taken possession of during the Solar Sacrifice ceremony in the city-state of Pland?
Duncan’s memory retraced his steps back to his initial arrival in this foreign land. He vividly recalled intervening in the elaborate Solar Sacrifice ritual, taking control of a body that was meant to be offered up. After disrupting the ceremony, he had abandoned that vessel, moving his essence elsewhere. Not long after, Vanna had spearheaded an operation to raid the cultists responsible for the ritual, apprehending those who remained and likely overseeing the cleanup of the chaotic scene he had left in his wake.
If there were a moment in time that could serve as a converging point for their separate existences, that incident at the site of the solar sacrifice would be the most plausible.
It was a simple, abandoned body—a mere geographical location where both had been, albeit at different times.
“Could this be the source of the connection?” As the thought settled, Duncan found himself increasingly convinced. His eyes widened, and he stared at his own hands as if expecting them to offer some kind of answer. Eventually, his look of surprise morphed into a wry smile tinged with disbelief. “What an absurdly convoluted way to become connected across time and space.”
The sheer peculiarity of the situation struck him profoundly. How could such a fleeting, transient possession and mere temporal overlap at a single location give birth to such an unusual spiritual tether? The notion was both confounding and intriguing, leaving him with a sense of puzzled acceptance. It was as if the universe had presented him with a riddle, one that beckoned him to untangle its intricate complexities.
Maybe the pocket watch represents a collective consciousness that is deemed weaker than the user when they came in contact with it. The pocket watch would activate it’s effect marking them as it’s property. The dove on the other hand was some amalgamation of his Zhou Ming Ego’s creating a sense of superiority to the Duncan’s Persona of his
The compass? I think its probably a simple anomaly (created as part of the Vanished’s transition to a spiritual entity/vision, thus without its own ranking). Its concept remained as “guidance for the captain”, but now it guides his spirit walks.