Chapter 32 “Breakfast On The Vanished”
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As night began to recede, the spectral streaks across the sky gradually faded away. Duncan stood at the back of the vessel, straining his neck to get a clear view of the expansive sky above. He was determined to capture every aspect of this mystical change, the fleeting moments when night surrendered to dawn.
The ethereal scar in the sky grew more and more transparent, resembling a dream awakening from slumber. The pale-grey haze surrounding it was the first to blend into the burgeoning daylight, followed by the scar itself. Interestingly, the position of the “scar” remained fixed throughout this transformation.
As Duncan blinked, a new theory formed in his mind. If the scar stayed in the same place, could it be that it was not a distant celestial entity but rather a spectral “impression” within the atmosphere, in sync with the Boundless Sea?
Perhaps the planet that hosted the Boundless Sea was aligned with the scar. Or maybe the scar was moving, but the period of observation was too brief to notice any movement with the naked eye.
Duncan’s mind was filled with hypotheses, but he recognized that these were merely speculations without concrete evidence or scientific validation. Natural phenomena could be interpreted in numerous ways, but without a solid theoretical basis and empirical support, these remained mere conjectures.
Soon, the “sun” began to rise. Initially, a golden radiance touched the edge of the celestial ocean, quickly followed by the dramatic emergence of a massive glowing orb rising from the sea’s surface. As it climbed higher, the radiant sphere, encircled by twin rune rings, came into Duncan’s view.
Guided by the delicate movements of the rune formations, the sun solemnly ascended. This majestic occurrence seemed to be accompanied by a sound—a deep, authoritative rumble that subtly vibrated in Duncan’s mind. However, when he attempted to pinpoint its origin, it ceased abruptly.
He furrowed his brows, pondering if he had just experienced an auditory illusion. Nevertheless, the memory of that sound was too vivid to ignore.
Was it a proclamation from the rising sun in this unique realm, or merely one of the many illusions conjured by the Boundless Sea?
With no one around to confirm his suspicions, the Boundless Sea, vast and mysterious as ever, continued to keep its secrets.
Meanwhile, the dove named Ai, usually resting on Duncan’s shoulder, suddenly stood up and flapped its wings vigorously. It gazed intently at the ocean’s surface and loudly cooed, “French fries on the hour! French fries on the hour!”
Duncan couldn’t help but chuckle at the bird’s unexpected pronouncement. He looked at the peculiar dove and realized that its presence, though eccentric, was not entirely unwelcome—its random, nonsensical chatter often evoked a warm, homely feeling.
“Regrettably, we have no French fries on board,” he responded casually, flicking Ai’s beak gently before heading towards the captain’s cabin. “But you’re right about one thing; it’s time for some nourishment.”
Later, the captain of the Vanished began his routine of preparing the usual breakfast—the famed breakfast of the ghost ship. Inside the captain’s cabin, Duncan transformed the navigation table into a makeshift dining area, arranging several dishes beside the maritime chart. Today’s breakfast was identical to last night’s dinner, yesterday’s lunch, and every meal before that—dried meat, cheese, and plain water.
Duncan seated himself at the navigation table, carefully placing a napkin before him. The Goathead statue silently observed him from across, while the cursed doll, Alice, who had greeted him earlier that morning, sat to his left. The quirky dove perched on the table to his right.
A sudden realization struck Duncan—he perfectly embodied the role of the “Ghost Captain” in this scenario—with the wooden goat head symbolizing a demon, the cursed doll that could not be discarded, the articulate bird offering insights into otherworldly matters, and the infamous Captain Duncan at the head of the table. This scene could easily pass for a movie poster without any changes.
However, only those aboard the Vanished knew the true quality of the food onboard.
Duncan sighed, lowered his gaze, and examined the food on his plate. The grand introductory scene was over, and now it was back to the mundane daily routine of survival on the Vanished.
He grabbed the knife, forcefully slicing through the cheese, which emitted a distinct squeaky sound. Then, using a fork, he prodded the dried meat beside it, producing a crisp clinking noise.
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Alice watched with curiosity and finally asked, “Captain, is today’s meal the same as yesterday’s?”
“Tomorrow’s will be the same too,” Duncan replied, looking at the cursed doll before playfully adding, “Want to give it a try?”
Alice hesitated for a moment, then suddenly grabbed a piece of dried meat with her tiny hand and popped it into her mouth. She chewed with visible effort but soon spat it out with a series of “pui pui” sounds. “It tastes dreadful!”
“Even if it tasted splendid, you wouldn’t be able to digest it—do you have a stomach?” Duncan inquired, reaching out to take the remaining half of the dried meat from Alice’s hand. “You wanted to try it, so I indulged you.”
With that, his attention returned to the food on his plate, his expression filled with quiet resignation.
The ship’s pantry held a monotonous supply of the same fare—dried meat as appealing as salt-cured cardboard and cheese that closely resembled granulated sawdust. No matter which cooking methods he attempted, these food items emitted an off-putting aroma. Despite his persistent culinary efforts, the taste and texture of these provisions stubbornly remained unpalatable.
The only advantage was that these foodstuffs showed no signs of spoilage and posed no risk of food poisoning. On the downside, the relentless passage of time had transformed these non-perishable items into a deeply uninviting form—Duncan had good reason to believe the cheese was older than he was. If the dried meat could tell stories, it would recount a century of changes and upheavals.
While the captain of the Vanished might not have to worry about scurvy, Duncan longed for a more nutritious and balanced diet. At the very least, he wished for the food on his plate to be younger than he was, or, optimistically, the same age.
His thoughts drifted back to the “Vanished’s supply replenishment plan” and the “land exploration plan,” ideas he had pondered the day before.
However, such grand plans could not be realized immediately.
With a resigned sigh, Duncan resumed his laborious effort to cut the “sawdust-like” cheese on his plate. Ai, the bird who had been watching from a nearby tabletop with its head tilted, moved closer out of curiosity. The bird looked back and forth between its master and the items on the plate before asking, “Insufficient crystal ore reserves?”
Duncan glanced casually at the dove, then pinched some scattered cheese crumbs and flicked them towards the bird. Ai pecked at them twice, but then its movements abruptly stopped as if it had experienced a sudden system freeze.
ooooooh. Thanks for the translation!
So, the original duncan dived too deep and got replaced by Zhou Ming here?
I think so. If that is the case, i think that little “walk” the mc did was actually super dangerous