Chapter 311 “Information Exchange”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com
The elderly father, concerned about his children’s daily lives, decided to check on his son’s activities at home.
At half-past twelve in the night, he saw his son set up a stage on an icy island base and watched over a dozen girls perform belly dances.
This was a shocking revelation, a baptism into fatherhood he had not anticipated.
At that moment, Tyrian was struck with a panic more profound than the terror he felt when he heard about the appearance of a “Number Three Submersible” near Frost a few days ago.
The infamous pirate captain in the Cold Sea awkwardly shifted, attempting to block Duncan’s view with his clumsy movements, but another ice-covered wall lit up beside him. The father’s figure walked to another mirror and continued watching the stage. “Aren’t they cold?”
Tyrian instinctively replied, “…Cold, but they can endure it with a special alchemical potion…”
“Tyrian,” Duncan turned his gaze back to the now rigid Tyrian, “Don’t be so tense. You’re an adult, and it’s your right to have hobbies. However… this hobby is somewhat surprising. Does your sister know?”
“It’s not what you think!” Tyrian exclaimed, more helpless and desperate than before, “Please don’t mention it to her if you ever contact her in the future…”
“Oh, it seems she doesn’t know,” Duncan nodded. “Indeed, it’s better not to inform Lucretia about this.”
Tyrian: “What do I have to say for you to…”
Duncan laughed.
He clearly saw Tyrian’s expression and heard his previous outburst. He found it amusing—seeing such a reaction from the top pirate in the Cold Sea was rare, and it would be a shame to miss such a scene.
As Tyrian saw the smile on Duncan’s face, he understood.
He was taken aback.
His father was joking with him—a somewhat cruel joke but one that had been missing for a long time.
Immediately, he controlled his astonished expression and turned serious, as if his previous lapse in composure had never occurred.
“If you’re done having fun, let’s discuss business,” the formidable pirate sighed reluctantly, “I don’t believe your late-night visit is merely for joking.”
“I came across a ship,” Duncan’s expression turned serious as he got to the point, “The Obsidian. Do you recall this name?”
“The Obsidian?” Tyrian frowned, searching his memory for well-known ships and finding nothing, then his expression shifted slightly, “You mean the Obsidian? I know only one Obsidian, but it should have sunk already…”
As Duncan anticipated.
No one knew the ships in the Cold Sea better than a pirate leader established in the region for half a century. If it was a ship that had sunk due to a maritime disaster, it would leave a profound impression on Tyrian’s mind.
Shipwrecks are considered the most ominous events on the vast ocean. Captains may ignore other vessels, but they definitely want to know the names of sunken ships, their cargo, actions, and whereabouts.
“It’s that one, the ship that’s been submerged for six years,” Duncan nodded. “It has resurfaced, transformed into a strange entity—with inverted cabin structures, mud-like living substances, and a ‘captain’ who is neither human nor inhuman.”
As Duncan finished speaking, Tyrian’s eyes widened, and after brief reflection, his face showed a mix of astonishment and seriousness.
He did not doubt his father, knowing he wouldn’t deceive him about this matter—Duncan wouldn’t engage in such trivial acts.
Yet, he still found it hard to believe, as the situation exceeded his expectations.
“Doesn’t it sound familiar?” Duncan’s voice, emanating from the ice, carried the chill of the Cold Sea. “It’s reminiscent of the Number Three Submersible situation but more severe. It’s a replica from the deep sea, with the crew and ship distorted. You were involved in the Abyss Plan, so I want your judgment.”
“My judgment…” Tyrian began but then realized something else. “Wait, where did you encounter that ship?!”
He reacted suddenly; the Obsidian had sunk near Frost, so theoretically, the “replica” should have surfaced around Frost too. How could his father have encountered that ship?!
Duncan, in the ice, revealed a faint smile.
“Are you at a high enough vantage point?”
“A high enough vantage point?” Tyrian looked around, puzzled. “The terrain here is not bad. The port area is generally elevated…”
“Is there anything obstructing the view to the southwest?”
“No.”
“Oh, look in that direction and wait a moment.”
Tyrian instinctively looked towards the island’s southwest—a gentle slope inclined towards the sea. The main residential facilities of the port area were on this slope, ending at the coast. A few kilometers beyond lay the dense fog and turbulent currents enveloping this secret base.
Something flickered in the thick fog.
A ghostly green flame, rising and glowing like a specter in the fog.
Tyrian blinked.
After a while, he heard a distant, muffled, yet undeniably real roar.
It was the sound of an ancient muzzle-loading cannon being fired.
“You’re in the Cold Sea…” Tyrian’s muscles tensed, a subtle yet pervasive chill encircling him. He hesitated and turned back to Duncan in the ice. “You… found this place?”
“Not easy to find. Your island is surrounded by thick fog, floating ice, and erratic currents. Luckily, the Spirit Realm is serene with secure routes,” Duncan smiled. “But don’t worry, I won’t bring the Vanished directly to your island; that would make your subordinates anxious. The Vanished will hide in the dense fog beside you.”
Tyrian thought for a moment, feeling that his father’s last words were more unnerving—it might be better to bring the Vanished directly to the harbor!
Yet, he didn’t dare say it out loud.
For he feared that opening his eyes the next day, he would see the Vanished’s flagpole looming over the harbor.
“Your expression is tense and disheartened,” Duncan’s voice emerged. “Did I cause you any trouble?”
“No, I didn’t mean that!” Tyrian quickly responded, adjusting his expression. “It’s just that things are unexpected, and I’m not used to… interacting with you.”
He paused, hastily asking before Duncan could speak again, “Why did you come to the Cold Sea? It’s not just to give me a ‘surprise’, is it?”
“Some things happened,” Duncan nodded. “A person who should have been dead for years suddenly sent a message from Frost, piquing my interest. Upon arriving here, I quickly saw the ‘Obsidian’, confirming my suspicions. Now I suspect the lingering remnants of the Abyss Plan are stirring beneath Frost.”
The Abyss Plan…
Tyrian’s cheek muscles twitched uncontrollably as memories flooded his mind—some from half a century ago, some from recent events.
His father’s sudden news was like a sharp blade, slicing open a veil that had only been slightly lifted. Tyrian realized that what was happening was far more complex than he imagined.
It wasn’t just a “Number Three Submersible,” not just a Dagger Island, and beneath Frost’s deep sea… the Abyss Plan was not only reviving.
“I think your suspicions are correct,” he said, troubled. “There truly is an issue beneath Frost. The Obsidian you encountered is not an isolated incident… Do you know? Recently, Frost authorities salvaged something from the nearby sea.”
The voice in the ice fell silent for a few seconds: “Judging by your expression, I think I can guess what it is.”
“Yes, the Number Three Submersible, the eighth clone. It has been sent to a desolate island near Frost called ‘Dagger Island.’ The authorities designated it as a military-restricted area, attempting to uncover the secret of the clones,” Tyrian said, shaking his head. “But that’s not the only news. Recently, rumors of the dead returning to life in Frost have circulated. It’s said the dead broke free from their graves, and people who had died or disappeared for years appeared on the city streets. However, there are also conflicting reports that they are just ordinary city residents, and the overly anxious church guards are indiscriminately arresting passers-by during curfew hours.”
Tyrian shrugged.
“Information on Dagger Island is difficult to obtain due to the news blockade. As for the situation in Frost, I have some informants. According to their reports, strange things have indeed been happening in the city recently, and unfamiliar faces have been coming and going. But the dead returning to life… I don’t think there’s much credibility to it.”
Occult games of clue must be so hard, “It was the abyss cultist demon possession of Mr. Clark with a gun from a different history in the alley in the 5th district.”
“Nay, it was a stray bullet from the steam walker on boulevard in 4th district firing up at sun cultists on the second floor”
Tyrian is acting too guilty ?
maybe one of the dancers looks like his sister