Chapter 6 “Missing Cargo”
This translation is hosted on bcatranslation.com
As the crew of the ship gathered, the atmosphere was charged with an uneasy tension, reminiscent of the calm before a storm. Lawrence, their leader, together with his steadfast first mate, quickly moved to secure their clergyman. Their rapid footsteps echoed across the cold iron floors of the ship, resembling urgent distress signals piercing the night’s silence. Outside, a thick fog shrouded the recent turmoil, and the ghostly image of another ship had disappeared into the abyss, momentarily offering a brief respite in a whirlwind of uncertainty.
Lawrence’s main concern was to determine what the vessel known as the Vanished had stolen from their ship, the White Oak, and what remained. There was no time to waste in this race against the relentless march of time.
Lawrence was also deeply worried about the significant risk of re-entering their material world without ensuring all spectral threats were eradicated. The thought of accidentally bringing back ancient artifacts capable of causing world-altering disruptions weighed heavily on him, like the blade of a guillotine—potentially as disruptive as a tempest in a teapot. Yet, the danger of lingering too long in this ghostly realm posed an even greater threat to his crew.
The sound of unrest from the deck above slowly penetrated his deep thoughts. He turned his attention back to the clergyman and the vital holy items he carried. Overwhelmed by concern, Lawrence asked, “Mr. Ron, where exactly are we on this cliff’s edge?”
The cleric, struggling with a persistent cough that seemed to sap his strength, took out a weathered compass and traced a religious symbol in the air, murmuring verses of a holy prayer. The compass needle spun wildly before settling, pointing steadfastly in a specific direction.
“We are precariously balanced between the physical and spiritual worlds, though currently, we lean slightly towards the former. Thus, the influence of the spiritual realm on us is minimal at the moment,” he explained, his face marked by unease as he examined the compass. “What’s truly odd is our stable position, despite the deactivation of the artifact that brought us here. We are not being further drawn into this spiritual realm.”
Lawrence attempted to lighten the palpable tension with a hint of humor, saying, “Perhaps our unexpected encounter with the Vanished has inadvertently steered us onto a path that turns out to be beneficial,” his faint smile flickering across his lips despite their dire situation.
The cleric reciprocated with a weary smile, which quickly twisted into a grimace as he was seized by another violent bout of coughing. “Captain, your humor is as cheerful as a shipwreck at the bottom of the sea. Nevertheless, we urgently need to inform the Storm Church. The appearance of the Vanished is a disturbingly ominous sign. The legends of its existence have been passed down through generations, yet we’ve never had concrete proof until now. The goddess assisted us this time, but once we return to Pland, we should prepare for a prolonged stay on land.”
Before Lawrence could respond, the first mate interjected, “We’ve accounted for every soul on board, sir, and there’s no sign of any unwelcome entities either. I’ve verified the location of every sailor on the deck and checked our mechanics toiling tirelessly in the boiler room. All responded correctly with the names of their gods when questioned.”
The news struck Lawrence like a bolt of lightning, rendering him momentarily speechless. Under normal circumstances, such an update would likely trigger a burst of jubilant cheers, but the surreal nature of their situation made it hard for him to digest the information. “No casualties?” he repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. “And the sacred relic?”
“The relic is fully functional, Captain,” the first mate confirmed, his voice resonating with firm assurance. “Our navigator has carefully prepared the incense and essential oils needed. We are just waiting for your orders now.”
Instead of feeling relieved, Lawrence was overwhelmed by incredulity. He muttered to himself, “Did the sacred artifact truly serve as our protector?”
Optimistically, the first mate declared, “It seems we’ve had quite the stroke of luck today, Captain. Our encounter with the ghost captain claimed no lives. Maybe he was just a passing visitor, and our ship accidentally crossed his path.”
Lawrence looked skeptically at the first mate. “Do you really believe that?” he asked, his voice threaded with a hint of cynicism. “If we were truly fortunate, we wouldn’t have crossed paths with that notorious captain in the first place.”
Before Lawrence could express his thoughts further, a sudden blast of noise from outside the cabin interrupted him. The door burst open so violently that it shook the room. A sailor, his face deathly pale and dripping with sweat, staggered inside.
“Captain! Anomaly 099 is missing!” he gasped, his voice hoarse and his breathing ragged from extreme exhaustion.
A tense silence fell over the ship, a momentary calm that felt like the eerie stillness before a storm. Anxiety and fear were silently exchanged in the uneasy glances among the crew members. Yet, Captain Lawrence felt an unexpected rush of relief.
“At last, we have identified the root of our ongoing problems,” he thought to himself. “The elusive issue that has been plaguing our ship has finally revealed itself.”
Summoning what strength he had left, Lawrence swiftly exited the cabin, his loyal first mate following closely behind. He deemed it essential to personally inspect the situation and led his crew to the deepest parts of the steamship.
They arrived at an isolated cabin that looked particularly ominous in its solitude.
The cabin door was adorned with cryptic occult symbols, intricately etched into the imposing black iron frame, resembling a complex tattoo. These symbols formed a barrier, a fortified cage meant to contain whatever unknown entity was housed inside—potentially a monstrous creature.
Lawrence examined the symbols carefully, ensuring they were intact, then looked up towards the “relic room” on the level above. This room acted as a safeguard, limiting Anomaly 099’s influence and preventing it from dooming the ship to a watery grave.
Despite these strict measures, the precious cargo—under the stewardship of the steamship White Oak—had mysteriously vanished.
With a fortifying breath, Lawrence opened the heavy iron door, revealing a faint light within the pitch-black void. Gas lamps in the corners cast light into every hidden nook, ensuring nothing could remain unseen. Yet, as he entered, a deep disappointment washed over Lawrence, realizing their prized “cargo” was gone, leaving behind only crossed chains and a layer of ash scattered across the wooden floor.
The chief deckhand, a seasoned mariner with calloused hands and a weather-beaten face, delivered his report in a somber tone. “The sealed room containing the ‘coffin’ was under strict precautions. We kept it continuously illuminated, secured the coffin-like enclosure with reinforced chains, and spread ash in a ritualistic manner on the stone floor every two hours. Yet, in the commotion caused by the sudden emergence of the Vanished, the crew member responsible for these duties was delayed. It took us a full seven minutes to realize that Anomaly 099 had disappeared.”
“Seven minutes should not have been enough for the entity inside the coffin to break the seals and pose a significant threat,” Captain Lawrence argued, his brows knitting together as he reflected deeply. “These seals are not just decorative; they serve a crucial protective function. Even in the worst circumstances, the ‘coffin’ could only move within the confines of this room.” He turned his gaze to the deckhand, “We’ve confirmed that it’s no longer on our ship… but let’s not point fingers at the sailor.”
The deckhand’s expression showed a mixture of uncertainty and discomfort as he sought clarification, “So, are you suggesting that the Vanished is responsible for Anomaly 099’s disappearance?”
Lawrence replied, his tone heavy with the weight of their situation, “Exactly. The leader of the Vanished, or ‘captain,’ likely took Anomaly 099.”
Silence filled the room. Eventually, Lawrence broke the quiet with a tired sigh. “We should consider ourselves lucky that the Vanished were only interested in that particular anomaly, sparing us and the rest of the ship any major harm.”
The deckhand met his captain’s gaze, hesitantly surveying the now empty, sealed room. He expressed his worries, “But… how do we explain the loss of such vital cargo to the maritime authorities?”
Amid the whirl of concerns, Lawrence remained a pillar of calm. He placed a reassuring hand on the deckhand’s shoulder. “The Vanished is classified as a type of natural disaster, and our maritime insurance is specifically designed to cover such unforeseen events,” he explained.
Surprise appeared on the deckhand’s face as he questioned, “But will the insurance company really agree to cover the loss of something as unique as Anomaly 099?”
“If they refuse our claim, we’ll take the issue to the Explorers Association and suggest a new bounty on the Vanished,” Lawrence declared, his voice filled with firm resolve.
The deckhand looked skeptical and started to express his doubts, but Lawrence cut him off. “I understand your concerns, but sometimes we need to adapt to our circumstances and try to turn them to our advantage. Let’s concentrate on fulfilling our own responsibilities.”
“Captain, don’t you think you’re being a bit…”
Preferring to avoid a prolonged argument, Lawrence interrupted him decisively, “Enough,” effectively closing their discussion.
Thanks for the chapter!
This is amazing. Literally everything I was looking for in a novel. Thank you so much for translating!
Yup. Guessed it. But i guess Duncan is even more confused than anyone now.
SCP-895 has breached containment.
Duncan the mc is going to be like that old meme from spider man where two Spider-Man’s are pointing to each other lwho are you? No who are you
between whoever was in the coffin