Chapter 307: “The Lump of Flesh”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com
The small metal badge, inscribed with the name “Cristo Babelli,” identified the captain of the Obsidian, casting an eerie and silent atmosphere in the cabin, broken only by the sound of a pounding heart.
“Is his name Cristo?” Alice broke the silence, scratching her head in confusion. “But the ‘person’ we saw behind that blue door also said his name was Cristo, right?”
“If this ship originates from Frost’s deep sea, everything on board might be distorted replicas. Each twisted form here could represent Cristo or anyone else from the Obsidian at that time,” Duncan said calmly, his gaze on the wide-eyed middle-aged man on the ground, who was covering his mouth. “The key is this… this corpse, which is clearly unique.”
“Do you think he’s the original?” Vanna quickly reacted, looking at Duncan in astonishment. “But… how could the original be here when the whole ship is obviously twisted and replicated?”
“Our knowledge of Frost’s deep sea is based on Tyrian’s limited memories, and even Tyrian’s understanding is only a part of the early stages of the Abyss Plan. The entire project has never truly uncovered the secrets of the seabed below one thousand meters,” Duncan shook his head. “We know very little about Frost’s waters, and our assumptions about the rules for these ‘replicas’ may be incorrect. Perhaps the original is hidden within the counterfeit shell, or maybe every counterfeit is a manifestation of the original split apart, or even perhaps in the deep sea, there is no distinction between counterfeits and originals.”
As Vanna listened, she glanced at Alice beside her, who was curiously observing the “Cristo Babelli” on the ground. After pondering for a while, Alice suddenly asked, “Why is he covering his mouth?”
“People often react like that when they’re scared,” Morris said casually, “it’s not strange.”
However, Duncan’s voice cut in, “No, it’s quite strange… it’s not because of fear.”
Morris looked at Duncan in surprise, seeing him squatting beside the eerie corpse, his face close, carefully examining something.
Thump, thump, thump.
Cristo Babelli’s heart pounded faster and more forcefully as Duncan approached.
Duncan noticed the heart’s change but focused on Captain Cristo’s face. After careful observation, he suddenly discovered something.
“There’s something in his mouth.”
“Something in his mouth?” Morris was taken aback, watching Duncan try to pry the corpse’s hand from its mouth.
The hand’s resistance surprised Duncan.
The corpse was tightly covering its mouth, as if, even after years of death, it was consciously resisting something!
Initially, Duncan didn’t use much force, failing to pry open the hand. He knew he could easily overcome the grip with more force but hesitated before continuing.
“Mr. Babelli, if you’re guarding a secret, you can let go now,” Duncan said calmly, looking into the wide, angry eyes. “Leave the rest to me.”
The hand loosened.
Next, the tightly clenched mouth relaxed.
Vanna and Morris exchanged surprised glances, watching Duncan reach out, searching for something in Cristo’s slightly open mouth.
A soft, repulsive sensation met his fingertips. Duncan frowned, suppressing his discomfort as he extracted a lump from the dead man’s mouth.
It was thumb-sized, dark with faint blue lines, and very soft… like a piece of flesh torn from a larger being.
“What is this thing?” Alice curiously approached, clinging to Duncan’s arm as she examined the motionless, black, and blue piece of flesh, her face revealing revulsion. “Yuck… I don’t like this thing…”
Duncan looked at Alice in surprise. The usually cheerful doll rarely displayed such immediate and clear disgust.
As Alice spoke, Vanna quickly frowned. “I sense a very disturbing aura from this thing. It reminds me of pollution rising from the depths into reality.”
“My intuition tells me it’s best not to keep staring at this thing,” Morris added. “This is likely a warning from the god of wisdom. Don’t you feel anything holding it?”
“Feel? No,” Duncan pinched the piece of flesh. “The touch is a bit repulsive, but I don’t experience the exaggerated reaction you’re describing.”
“Oh, that’s normal, as your status is different from ours,” Morris showed no surprise. “But one thing is certain: what you hold is not meant to exist in the real world. It should be the most important clue on this ghost ship…”
His words were cut off as everyone heard the pulsating heart rapidly weakening.
Duncan lowered his head, staring at Cristo’s corroded chest, and saw the heart, once forcefully beating, now covered in a layer of gray. The pounding sound weakened to near silence within seconds, and then, under his gaze, the heart ignited and turned to ashes.
Simultaneously, a low, hoarse, and somewhat familiar voice filled the cabin, the source unclear, as if the entire ship sighed: “Ah, so that’s how it is…”
Vanna reacted first, “It’s the voice from behind the blue door!”
Duncan looked at the body, witnessing the remains of “Captain Cristo” melting like wax. The remnants, eroded by seawater six years ago, seemed to compensate for lost time, turning into jagged bone fragments instantly.
He made a quick decision and turned back towards their previous path: “Let’s retrace our steps.”
Their return was much quicker than their exploration.
The group swiftly moved through the eerily silent cabin, through the twisted passage, soon arriving back at the “Captain’s Quarters” with the blue door.
The door was slightly open, and behind it, the creature claiming to be “Cristo Babelli” still quietly clung to the wooden plank.
Vanna stepped forward, and almost immediately, the creature sensed their presence. Its surface began to wriggle, speaking in a hoarse voice: “Ah, you’re back.”
“… Captain Cristo,” Vanna steadied herself, trying to keep her tone calm, “We have some matters to discuss…”
But before she could finish, “Cristo” interrupted: “I already know, madam, I have remembered.”
Despite her suspicion, Vanna asked, “You… remembered?”
“If you mean my death, then yes, albeit only partially,” Cristo said in a low voice. “I am dead, right? Certainly… the Obsidian sank, we encountered a storm and an iceberg, we sank into boundless darkness. I had no chance of survival.”
Duncan was silent for a few seconds before stepping forward: “Do you know what happened in the depths of this ship?”
“Depths?” Cristo’s voice sounded confused.
“Do you recall the specifics of your death?” Duncan asked, “Did you struggle with something? Did anything happen on the ship after it sank into the deep sea?”
Cristo fell silent, then a regretful voice emerged: “I’m sorry, I don’t remember those details. All I recall is… the ship sinking, sinking for a very long time. Everyone died, and I should have died too, but I kept drifting in the darkness, surrounded by cold and darkness. It felt like I was searching for something. I don’t know how long this lasted. When I finally regained my memory, I was knocking on this door.”
Duncan exchanged glances with the others.
“Captain Cristo” had no reason to lie.
The captain only realized he was dead but didn’t remember what transpired in the Obsidian’s depths, nor the demise of “the other self” in the mysterious space at the ship’s bottom, or the origin of the mysterious piece of flesh.
The clues seemed exhausted.
But Duncan glanced at his palm—the dark-colored piece of flesh still lay silently in his hand.
He had already made a significant discovery.
Maybe… the Captain ate something from the deep sea…and got indigestion?
It certainly wouldn’t be too farfetched given the comedic undertone of this novel.
Eat it
“Alice, we need to cook.”