Chapter 63 “Return To Port”
This Translation is hosted on bcatranslation.com
Duncan gazed intently and for a long time at the sky, particularly at the vast scar that emitted a faint, glowing light. He seemed to be searching for specific details within the chaotic, flowing light—details he once saw that might confirm the incredible theory forming in his mind.
“Suppose what I saw down in the ship is a part of the World’s Creation, the same fissure hanging up in the sky right now. Then assuming what’s beyond that strange door is a part of subspace, wouldn’t that make the World’s Creation a part of subspace, or at least connected in some way?”
Despite his intense scrutiny, Duncan could not make out any definitive details, leaving his theory as just that—a theory.
The scar was simply too far away; even with a monocular telescope, discerning more details was impossible. From his current view, it only bore a vague resemblance to the scenery he saw below the Vanished’s hull, as though they were somewhat similar. However, it felt more like his nerves were overly tense from his recent exploration beneath the ship, causing him to be suspicious of everything.
Duncan spent a long time on the deck, breathing in the sea breeze and allowing himself to slowly relax while he pondered his thoughts. He also kept an eye on Goathead, his “first mate,” who seemed to have regained his composure and was now diligently steering the Vanished.
However, Duncan still felt an unsettling tension that seemed to permeate the entire ship. With its towering masts, crisscrossing sails, and ropes strewn across the deck, this ghost ship seemed to be silently standing in the darkness, as if they were nervously whispering among themselves about “that door.”
This was the first time Duncan had directly sensed the emotional shifts of the ship through his mind. It appeared that his connection with the ship had deepened after his return from the ship’s depths.
Now, the entire ship seemed attentive to its captain, watching for any anomalies after he had glimpsed through “that door.”
A cool evening breeze swept over, and Duncan, taking a deep breath, slowly made his way towards the captain’s quarters. He tapped his fingers lightly on the ship’s handrail, murmuring to himself, “Relax, this is nothing unusual.”
This time, he distinctly felt a change: the tension within the ship gradually receded, the ropes slackened, and the sails rose higher. The subtle creaking sounds from below deck also stopped.
It appeared that the ship had finally reassured itself that its captain was still the captain.
Duncan approached the door to the captain’s quarters, but instead of swinging it open as he usually would, he paused momentarily, then firmly grasped the doorknob, pushed, and opened the door inward.
The door revealed a swirling mass of dark fog, and Duncan stepped toward this swirling darkness.
“The road ahead is cut off, the road ahead is cut off!” The dove that had been perched on his shoulder suddenly took flight to a nearby mast as it cried out.
Duncan looked curiously at the dove as it fled but continued.
He found himself back in his familiar single apartment.
Zhou Ming lowered his head, checking his own body: familiar hands, familiar shirt, familiar trousers. He wasn’t as robust as Captain Duncan, but rather an entirely ordinary human.
He then raised his head and surveyed the room.
Everything was exactly as he had left it, even the dust was undisturbed.
Zhou Ming thoughtfully inspected the furnishings in the room, then suddenly turned back to the door—recollecting the door he had seen at the bottom of the Vanished, remembering the position and angle of the door crack.
He positioned himself accordingly, first pretending there was someone behind the door, then looked in the opposite direction of the door.
From the position of the door crack, he could indeed see the center of the room, where his somewhat cluttered desk was located, complete with a computer and various other items—his usual spot for reading, writing, or grading students’ homework and tests.
Zhou Ming slowly opened the door a crack, inch by inch, bringing his eye close to the gap.
In that moment, his heart raced—despite his logic telling him it was an illogical thought, he couldn’t help but wonder… what if suddenly an eye appeared opposite the door crack? What if a grim and serious ghost captain suddenly emerged? What if… a pirate sword suddenly stabbed through?
He pressed closer, peering outside.
Outside, there was only the usual swirling surge of dark fog.
Zhou Ming breathed a sigh of relief, yet felt a strange sense of disappointment—a sense of missed excitement, as if he had lost some kind of fun.
He shook his head vigorously, casting aside this odd mindset, then slowly moved to the desk—the items he had left in the room before he departed were all still in their places, including papers covered with random doodles, a neatly arranged diary, and the computer screen that remained on despite the power being cut.
Everything seemed unchanged.
Zhou Ming exhaled, but suddenly froze.
There was a change!
His gaze fixed on a corner of the desk, where a small item had unexpectedly appeared—an exquisitely detailed model, a model of… the Vanished.
Zhou Ming sat motionless in the chair for a full half-minute, absolutely certain that this item had not been on his desk before… especially since it was a “model” of the Vanished!
After a long pause, he blinked, carefully picked up the “model” that had appeared on his desk at some unknown time, and examined it closely.
This beautifully detailed “ghost ship” was just over half a foot long, its weight similar to that of an ordinary model, yet so detailed that Zhou Ming could see every rope, every bucket on the deck…
The only difference from the real Vanished might be its size.
Suddenly, Zhou Ming seemed to think of something; he brought the ship close to his face, and with a careful finger, “unlatched” the captain’s quarters door at the stern, peering inside through the tiny door.
On the miniature navigation table, there was no sign of Goathead.
Likewise, there was no sign of Alice on the ship.
Zhou Ming felt a bit odd, wondering why he would think that “Alice” might appear on this miniature version of the Vanished, which was clearly an absurd thought.
Perhaps the appearance of this ship itself was too absurd?
Zhou Ming cradled the little Vanished and became lost in thought for a long time.
He didn’t know how the ship had appeared on his desk, but clearly, the connection between his locked-up single apartment and the “world on the other side of the door” was deeper than he had imagined.
The change might have occurred after he “took the helm,” or it might have happened after he had peered through that door crack into subspace.
He leaned back in the chair, allowing his mind to slowly settle.
He discovered that he could still “feel” the situation on the other side of the door; he could feel the Vanished, feel Goathead, and even… sense the distant Pland city-state, and the other “shell” in that antique shop.
After an unknown length of time in contemplation, Zhou Ming suddenly came to, blinked his eyes, and looked at the ghost ship still held in his hands, then looked towards an empty shelf at the end of the room.
The shelf had been bought several years ago, but until these strange occurrences, he had not found the opportunity to fill it; now, it held only a few decoration crystal vases bought from deceptive online shopping, the rest of the compartments empty.
Zhou Ming carefully placed the delicate “model” of the Vanished on the shelf.
After positioning it, he stepped back two steps, examining his “achievement” carefully, seemingly quite pleased with the spot he had chosen.
How this item had appeared here was still a mystery, but at least… during these trapped days, he could decorate his little room a bit more.
…
A loud and melodious horn sound broke the calm on the sea, and Vanna, who had arrived early at the harbor, immediately walked to the edge of the lookout tower, observing the situation on the dock.
The entire port had been cleared in advance, the once-busy main port of Pland now empty, with no ordinary loaders and handlers in sight, replaced instead by fully armed security officers and guards from the church.
Twelve steam-powered spider walkers blocked all roads leading to the dock area.
And on the sea outside the harbor, among the gently undulating waves, a beautiful steam-powered ship was slowly approaching.
It was the White Oak.
Wait, what if this is just the first of bodies he will posess? Is he the embers?! Awesome! Thanks for translating, Bcat!
or maybe Zhou Mings room is the equivalent of “Gods realm”?
Zhou Mings might be a contaminant from the deep sea that infected the captain