Chapter 383: Anomaly 077

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com

The thunderous roar of cannon fire shattered the air, followed by the piercing shriek of artillery shells slicing through the sky. These deadly projectiles arced high before plunging down, smashing into the water and creating massive geysers both within the harbor and beyond. Some narrowly missed the White Oak, causing enormous waves that rocked the ship violently. The ship’s structure groaned ominously, a distressing testament to the intense bombardment.

Amid this chaos, Captain Lawrence, his First Mate Gus, and a dozen crew members scrambled up the rope ladder, eventually reaching the relative safety of the White Oak’s deck. As they distanced themselves from the epicenter of the cannon fire, the menacing silhouette of Dagger Island loomed behind them, a grim reminder of the dangers they faced.

A towering boatswain, rifle in hand – an almost irrelevant weapon in this maritime confrontation – rushed toward Lawrence. His anxious eyes scanned the captain for injuries. Confirming Lawrence was unscathed, he exhaled deeply in relief. “Thank God! You’ve returned. There was an earth-shaking blast from the island. When you didn’t come back, the second mate feared something might have happened to you…”

Lawrence’s mind flashed back to the recent events at the dockside square. He vividly remembered the sudden appearance of four additional sailors and the strange green flames that had added an eerie aura to the scene.

But this was neither the time nor place to discuss those matters. “We’ll talk later,” he said curtly, dismissing the boatswain’s inquiries. “What’s our situation? Where’s Jason?”

“The second mate is coordinating our defenses from the bridge. We’re under attack by an unidentified warship,” the boatswain reported quickly. “As soon as it appeared on our radar, it started firing. It’s been closing in on us, and we’ve just taken a hit on the stern. The damage is minor, but we need to retreat immediately. A warship’s firepower far exceeds the White Oak’s.”

“Set our course away from this chaos,” Lawrence ordered without hesitation.

The ship’s steam core rumbled ominously as it unleashed a surge of powerful energy, propelling the White Oak’s propellers into motion. The exploration vessel sped away from the danger-riddled harbor, its pristine white hull cutting through the water. Behind them, Dagger Island disappeared into a dense curtain of fog, yet their pursuers remained relentless.

Lawrence moved to the bridge, where he could assess the escalating naval situation through the stern’s expansive window. In the distance, against the undulating sea, he discerned the intimidating silhouette of their adversary – a medium-sized warship. It continued to fire its main cannon from the bow, each shot igniting a brilliant flash that pierced the darkness, casting an eerie light over the surrounding sea.

It was fortunate that their pursuer was a smaller warship and not a massive battleship. Otherwise, the White Oak would have been reduced to wreckage by now. However, the enemy ship demonstrated remarkable agility. Despite the White Oak pushing forward at maximum speed, Lawrence could see the inevitability – their pursuers would soon gain on them and overtake their pace. The enemy warship was unrelenting, steadily closing the gap.

“We can’t outpace them,” the first mate’s voice was tinged with despair. “Their speed is unmatched… and our weaponry can’t compete with a warship’s.”

Lawrence remained silent, his mind racing with tactical calculations. The White Oak, though classified as a civilian vessel, was far from vulnerable. Built for extensive journeys across the vast and unpredictable Boundless Seas and designed to transport hazardous, sealed artifacts between city-states, it was equipped with a military-grade steam core and a sophisticated anti-sinking structure. Its keel, hull, and superstructure were significantly fortified, giving it durability akin to a military vessel of similar size.

However, its major shortcoming was the lack of significant firepower. As a civilian ship, it had only a handful of small-caliber cannons, meant to deter minor pirate threats or repel aggressive marine creatures. Against a warship bristling with advanced weaponry, these defenses were inadequate.

Given these circumstances, the White Oak’s capture seemed imminent. As the enemy ship closed the distance, their gunfire would become more accurate.

Suddenly, a shrill whistle echoed from afar, followed by a thunderous explosion that jolted Lawrence from his deep reflections. The impact’s force resonated in his ears, and the deck quaked beneath his feet. In the corner of his eye, he saw a terrifying inferno rip through the White Oak’s side, scattering twisted metal and splintered deck fragments.

“We’ve taken a hit on the starboard side… Extinguish the fire!” the boatswain roared.

Even amidst the violent upheaval, Lawrence maintained his balance. His countenance abruptly changed, suggesting a sudden, decisive idea had dawned on him.

“Bring me the cargo,” he ordered his first mate, who was desperately trying to restore order on the bridge.

“The cargo?” The first mate hesitated, but then a flicker of comprehension crossed his face. A mix of dread and determination reflected in his eyes as he promptly complied, handing Lawrence the ship’s logbook.

Lawrence quickly flipped through the logbook, his eyes scanning the entries until they rested on one particular line.

“Unlock the number two containment room and bring ‘Anomaly 077’ to the bridge,” he commanded with resolute determination. “Make sure a fresh blanket and a new binding rope are ready for secondary sealing.”

The first mate’s expression turned grave, despite anticipating such a command. “Captain, are you certain…”

“We have no other options,” Lawrence asserted with absolute conviction. “There are precedents for unsealing the cargo in critical situations. If the church wishes to reprimand us later, I’ll take full responsibility.”

The first mate appeared to want to argue, but under Lawrence’s firm gaze, he swallowed his reservations and nodded. “Aye, Captain!”

The order was executed promptly. A team of sailors, specially trained to handle sealed artifacts, quickly descended into the ship’s belly. They unlocked containment room number two and followed the precise protocol to deactivate the seal around Anomaly 077.

Shortly after, amid the relentless cannon fire, a group of sailors emerged onto the bridge, carefully carrying Anomaly 077. They placed the object before Lawrence.

Lawrence looked down at the “anomalous object,” his face solemn. Lying before him was a withered corpse, tightly swathed in layers of cloth.

Anomaly 077, often called the “Sailor,” was a mystifying relic Lawrence knew well due to its frequent presence among his ship’s distinctive cargo.

This artifact was first discovered on an exploratory vessel that had vanished for three years, believed to be the cause of the ship’s disappearance. Anomaly 077 presented as a 1.7-meter-tall mummified figure that, once unsealed, showed signs of life. It could even speak and displayed cognitive functions, consistent with its description as a ‘sailor.’

Once unsealed, it had an inherent compulsion to assume control of the nearest ship, regardless of its specifications or control systems. It would then teleport the ship to a random location on the ocean, a process that occurred within minutes. However, this teleportation was always accompanied by a raging storm. It was unclear whether Anomaly 077 chose the storm as the destination or if the tempest was an inadvertent byproduct. Nonetheless, surviving the storm was a challenge few had managed.

Lawrence knew that handling Anomaly 077 wasn’t overly complex. Once unsealed, it would activate its abilities, but could be easily re-sealed. Tying a new binding rope around its neck would deactivate it, and wrapping it in a shroud would induce dormancy. The mummified entity exhibited no extraordinary physical prowess or battle capacities.

The only hurdle post-teleportation was navigating through the fierce storm – a challenge Lawrence and his crew had faced and triumphed over before.

Bending over the corpse cloaked in mystery, Lawrence gently placed his hand on the cloth.

The crew stationed on the bridge watched with a blend of apprehension and grim fascination, their eyes riveted on the scene.

Drawing a deep breath, Lawrence gingerly untied the knot that fastened the shroud.

Almost immediately, he heard a subtle gasp for air, the sound seemingly emanating from the mummified entity beneath the cloth.

The shroud slipped off as though propelled by an unseen force, revealing Anomaly 077. The figure was a gaunt corpse clad in the remnants of ancient sailor’s garments. Its sparse hair was dry and brittle, its frame skeletal, and it lay motionless on the deck.

The mummy’s chest began a rhythmic pattern of subtle rises and falls, growing so pronounced that Lawrence felt he could hear the beat of a heart and the tempo of breath.

Anomaly 077 had awakened.

Slowly, the mummy opened its eyes and laboriously pulled itself into a sitting position, its joints creaking.

“Assume interim control of this ship,” Lawrence instructed, his face a mix of emotions. “We need to make a quick exit.”

Anomaly 077 stood, its gaze wandering before settling on Lawrence. Inexplicably, Lawrence detected what appeared to be apprehension on the ancient face.

Astonishingly, he saw the mummy shiver.

“This isn’t… a prank!” The mummy’s voice echoed, a grating whisper filled with terror. Then, under the crew’s collective scrutiny, it shut its eyes, pretending to be lifeless while clutching the shroud to cover itself again.

Lawrence: “…?”

The crew: “…?”

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