Chapter 128 “Changing Course”

This Translation is hosted on bcatranslation.com

The second floor of the antique shop was rather cozy and somewhat cramped. In addition to a small kitchen and a bathroom, the floor contained only two bedrooms. One bedroom was occupied by Duncan, the owner of the antique shop, and the other was Nina’s. Shirley, who was staying as a temporary guest, had no choice but to share Nina’s room.

“Would it be alright if I just sleep in the hallway?” Shirley suggested, feeling a bit uncomfortable as she observed Nina bustling around to clear a spot for her in the already cramped room. “Or maybe I could put down a mat on the first floor of the shop.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Nina responded, casting a quick look towards the door to ensure her Uncle Duncan had retreated to his bedroom for the evening. “It’s only us three in here so we can’t have a guest sleep in a hallway. As for the first floor, it’s crammed with my uncle’s ‘treasures.’ He’d never allow anyone to sleep there.”

“‘Treasures?'” Shirley echoed, her brows furrowed as she tried to remember what she had seen on the shop’s first floor. When she had first arrived, her nerves had prevented her from really absorbing her surroundings. All she could recall was a hodgepodge collection of items that seemed more like a disordered heap of junk than anything else. The idea that these could be the ‘treasures’ of someone from subspace struck her as bizarre.

Then it occurred to her: in this setting, “Mr. Duncan” was merely posing as an average man, and Nina seemed completely oblivious to her “uncle’s” more mysterious aspects.

Shirley’s expression turned puzzled. Illuminated by the overhead light bulb, she quickly looked at Nina and softly inquired, “You’re not upset with me?”

Nina paused midway through fluffing the pillows and looked puzzled. “Upset? Why would I be?”

“I’ve been dishonest with you for some time,” Shirley admitted softly, using a tone she had seldom employed before meeting “Mr. Duncan.” “I initially approached you based on a tip from Dog. I never anticipated you’d trust me so implicitly, to even consider me a ‘friend.’ You have every right to be angry.”

Nina sighed a little and then spoke, “It’s been a while since anyone in school has wanted to talk to me, so I thought…” She hesitated, then shook her head vigorously. “Honestly, I’m not upset. Regardless of your initial motives, you were genuinely good company. You went shopping with me, visited museums, and hung out. So, no, I’m not angry.”

Shirley found it challenging to come to terms with Nina’s equanimity. She was more used to navigating a colder, more standoffish social climate, and she felt oddly ill-at-ease next to Nina, who radiated a continual sense of warmth and openness. “You’re an odd one,” she remarked.

“Am I?” Nina said, finishing her bed-making endeavors and sitting down. She tilted her head thoughtfully. “You know, someone once said something very similar about me. If I remember correctly, they said, ‘This kid has an unusually big heart.'”

As she extended the invitation, Nina patted the space next to her on the bed, beckoning Shirley to join her. “Come, have a seat. You’re standing there like you’re in a daze.”

Caught off balance, Shirley hesitated briefly before cautiously settling beside Nina. She was growing increasingly bewildered by the turn of events.

She had never foreseen this kind of scenario unfolding.

Here she was, in a situation that felt like a high-stakes chess game with lives on the line, monitored by an enigmatic being from another dimension. She was sharing a room with Nina, who seemed to be under the employ or influence of this mysterious entity. Dog, the shadow demon, had retreated into a ball-like position, exuding a subtle aura of squeamishness. Despite the underlying dangers and strangeness of her present circumstances, when Shirley looked around, all she saw was a softly illuminated room and a young woman whose warm smile seemed to defy the surrounding tension.

“The light is incredibly bright,” Shirley commented, either to ease the tension or simply because she couldn’t come up with anything else to say at the moment.

“You don’t have electric lights where you come from?” Nina questioned, sounding genuinely surprised.

“I’m from an older part of the city where electric lighting hasn’t been installed yet,” Shirley confessed, her cheeks tinged with awkwardness. “We generally rely on oil lamps when it gets dark.”

“I see,” Nina mouthed, visibly uncomfortable. Eager to shift gears, she clumsily segued into another topic. “Would you like to change into some pajamas? You can borrow mine. I have a pair from a couple of years back; they should fit you well.”

“Okay,” Shirley agreed.

“Let’s aim to sleep early tonight. Tomorrow is a day off, and I can give you a tour of the neighborhood. We can also go shopping for some new clothes for you. Your dress got burned, after all.”

“I don’t really have any money to spare,” Shirley pointed out.

“No worries, consider it a gift,” Nina generously offered.

“Alright,” Shirley responded, agreeing to the plan.

…

Meanwhile, in his own bedroom, Duncan stood silently by the window, his gaze directed intently toward the Sixth District. His facial expression had adopted a more solemn cast.

In the adjacent room, the two young women had already retired for the night. Given the events that had unfolded that day, Duncan wasn’t sure if Shirley was mentally or emotionally drained, but he felt confident that Nina must be.

Slightly closing his eyes, he shifted his focus.

Within the darkness that enveloped his field of vision, two small green flames flickered.

These ethereal flames were his mystical “marks,” strategically placed in the neighboring room. One originated from Shirley, and the other pinpointed Nina’s whereabouts.

Despite having eyes and ears virtually everywhere, Duncan still found himself grappling with a sea of uncertainties. He was unclear about the meaning of the mysterious ash-like substance surrounding Nina, and he had yet to penetrate the secrets buried deep within the city-state itself. The origin of the “veil” cloaking the area was another puzzle, as was the question of who might be pulling the strings behind the scenes.

However, Duncan sensed he was inching closer to the elusive truth that had evaded him for over a decade, gradually unraveling the otherworldly mist that shrouded the city.

The “marks” he had placed on Nina functioned as a sort of ethereal insurance policy. These symbols would allow him to instantly detect any changes in her state of being and to locate her with precision in any emergency situation. Additionally, should he ever decode the enigma of the “ashes” that seemed to envelop Nina, these marks would empower him to act swiftly, effectively shielding her from any malevolent supernatural influences in the immediate vicinity.

However, a single safeguard was far from sufficient.

Duncan’s eyes fell to his own hands, studying them as if he could see through the skin and bone to the frailty within. This mortal shell was an inadequate vessel, a limitation that weighed on him. It was too distant from his true and more powerful form. Both the capabilities of his original self and the abilities he could manifest in this human guise were constrained. Beyond that, he had to acknowledge the possibility that the dangers lurking in the city-state of Pland might surpass even his most careful estimations.

He took a slow, deliberate breath and closed his eyes.

The next moment, an entirely separate manifestation of Duncan opened his eyes on the Vanished. Rising from his seat in the captain’s quarters, he briskly pushed open the door.

The goat head, serving as the ship’s aide, piped up almost immediately: “Ah, the illustrious Captain! Your loyal, albeit rather limited, first mate is in the middle of calibrating—”

“Which way is the city-state of Pland?” Duncan interjected, cutting off the rambling figure with a piercing glance.

“Pl—Pland city-state?” The ship’s first mate seemed disoriented momentarily, and a brief expression of surprise flickered across its wooden visage. It quickly regained composure, its tone suddenly bursting with enthusiasm. “Ah, Pland! A human settlement! Does the great Captain Duncan have plans for a raid? Are we targeting the port directly, or intercepting merchant vessels in transit? We could also undermine their—”

“Enough,” Duncan silenced him with another interruption as he moved toward the navigation table, drumming his fingers impatiently. “I asked for the direction to Pland, not for your strategic fantasies.”

“Ah, of course, of course,” the goat head replied, its voice dropping to a more respectful tone.

A pinpoint of light flickered into existence on the edge of the ship’s mist-enshrouded navigational chart.

“Your desired location, Pland city-state, lies roughly in this direction,” it informed him, attempting to sound deferential. “I regret that our navigation charts have lain dormant for too long. They can only provide a rough approximation of Pland’s whereabouts. The conditions of the sea and key landmarks en route are unknown variables.”

“It seems far,” Duncan observed, focusing on the glimmering dot amidst the fog on the chart, attempting to calculate its relative distance from the Vanished’s current known coordinates. A slight frown creased his forehead. “What would be the time frame at maximum speed to reach the vicinity of Pland’s coastal waters?”

“Half a month? Perhaps a full month?” The goat head began to prattle. “It’s relatively quick considering we’re not at the furthest reaches of known civilization. Alternatively, you could direct the Vanished to travel at full speed through the spirit realm, but that comes with its own set of risks. While the spirit realm itself poses limited danger to us, it contains entities in its deeper layers that are unpredictable.”

The deeper regions of the spirit realm…

For a fleeting moment, Duncan’s thoughts shifted toward “Dog,” but he promptly dismissed the idea. “For now, let’s navigate through the material realm, steadily making our way closer to the city-state of Pland. Final question: is it possible to approach Pland without attracting the attention of the city’s defenses or surveillance?”

Duncan fixed his gaze on the goat head, locking eyes as if trying to peer into its wooden soul.

In his capacity as the “Captain” of the Vanished, asking such a question was risky. Ideally, he should already have a thorough grasp of his ship’s abilities and limitations. Still, he ventured to ask the question, subtly probing the competence and knowledge of his peculiar “first mate.”

The dark, glass-like eyes of the goat head revealed no emotion. A silent moment passed as they maintained eye contact before the goat head finally responded in its typical manner: “We can conceal ourselves within the shrouded fog and, if necessary, briefly dip into the distorted reflections cast by the sea waves. This should render us virtually invisible to the detection methods of human city-states and their naval ships at a distance of at least fifteen nautical miles off their coast.”

“However,” it continued, “any closer is inadvisable—the divine surveillance of the gods would be triggered, and the local church would initiate its alarm systems.”

Duncan’s expression remained unreadable. “Your information is based on experiences that are a century old. Do you think it still holds true in the present day?”

“Absolutely,” the goat head replied, its voice tinged with a sprightly confidence. “A mere century is but a blip in time. It’s unlikely the gods have developed any new detection technologies within that short period.”

Releasing a barely perceptible sigh of relief, Duncan instructed, “Very well, navigate the Vanished toward the city-state of Pland, taking every measure to remain undetected.”

The goat head couldn’t resist asking, “May I inquire as to what your intentions are, Captain?”

Duncan considered the question for a moment before a faint smile crossed his lips. “I just want to conduct a test,” he said, somewhat cryptically. “I want to see if the Wi-Fi will improve.”

The goat head looked perplexed. “Wi—what does that even mean?”

“Would you like Ai to elaborate on it for you later?” Duncan offered.

“No! Your loyal, though admittedly truncated, first mate has absolutely zero interest in understanding what that means!”

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