Chapter 193

Chapter 193: “Captain”

Subspace could Corrupt everything except Subspace itself, even the Mortal Realm and the flow of years. Yet this seemed to be no problem for the Vanished.

Because in a sense, this ship was already a part of Subspace. In fact, even now its keel was still sailing through Subspace.

You could not drive someone with a sanity score of zero into madness, and you could not Corrupt the Vanished again after Subspace had already remade it completely.

Listening to Goathead’s words, Duncan showed a thoughtful look, but he did not stay lost in thought for long, because Goathead’s voice came again from the chart table: “Captain, you have begun to take an interest in matters inside the borders of civilization. Before this, you were always focused on sailing toward the outer frontier. Is there something in the city-states that has special meaning for you?”

Sailing toward the outer frontier?

Duncan’s heart stirred a little, but his face stayed calm. He only answered casually: “I am simply paying attention. I do not need a reason.”

“Ah, very well. You are the Captain, you have the final say,” Goathead replied at once. Then it fell silent for two seconds, as if hesitating or thinking, before speaking again in a low voice: “Then, just in case, I want to ask you a question.”

Duncan raised his eyebrows.

He heard its hoarse, low voice come from inside the wood carving: “Name?”

“Duncan Abnomar,” Duncan said with no expression, his fingers lightly interlaced. But this time, after speaking that name he suddenly smiled and asked in return: “To be honest, I’m curious. What would happen if I gave another name?”

This was the first time he had asked this question, and it was also his boldest boundary crossing so far. His life on this ship, his many contacts with Goathead, and his growing understanding of his own power and nature had finally led him to test this step.

Mutual testing and watching had built the most basic kind of tacit understanding between them. Duncan’s counter-question revealed a fact that both sides already knew deep down. After that question, Goathead fell into a long silence. It was a full minute before its low, hoarse voice sounded again in the captain’s cabin: “Then you should try not to tease me like that, Captain. The Vanished still needs you at the helm.”

Duncan laughed.

Just as he had thought, if Goathead had been “Captain Duncan’s” deputy for the past century, then its understanding of that ghost captain might even surpass the captain’s understanding of himself. And considering how many strange supernatural things existed in this world, how could a first mate who knew the captain so well fail to notice the captain’s changes or fail to think of the possible reasons?

No matter how careful a disguise was, it had flaws, and those flaws would only become more obvious as time went on. Yet no one had brought up this flaw, which meant that this level of disguise was just right and also necessary.

The Vanished needed a captain, and that captain’s name was “Duncan Abnomar”. What lay behind that name was not important. Whether the captain himself was “real” was not important either. As long as there was someone qualified to hold the wheel, that was enough.

Duncan was only a little curious why it had to be him, and whether his having his own will now was actually an accident. By his general understanding of ghost ships, if a cursed ship had to keep “grabbing” people to be its captain, then the chosen person should in fact be under the curse’s control. Yet he clearly was not bound by anything.

But he did not ask these questions, because Goathead’s attitude was faintly reminding him:

Some things were fine as long as everyone knew them. There was no need to say them out loud.

Before he understood all the secrets behind the Vanished, this topic could end here.

“You still need your loyal first mate to serve you, and the Vanished still needs its great Captain to steer it personally. What do you think?” Goathead’s voice came from the side, sounding a bit expectant, even earnest.

Duncan turned his head, fixing his gaze on those obsidian-carved eyes.

“Of course,” he said with a smile.

Then he stood up and walked toward the door of the captain’s cabin: “I’m going to leave for a while. Look after this ship.”

Goathead had already returned to his usual flunky attitude, his tone cheerful: “Of course. Your loyal—well, you know the rest—will be here waiting for your return. I wish you a smooth…”

Duncan had already pushed the door open and walked out of the room, shutting the rest of Goathead’s words behind the door.

He stood on the aft deck and let out a light breath. A strange sense of ease rose in his heart. The morning sunlight was spilling over the sea, bathing the whole deck in a warm glow. The door that led to the captain’s cabin stood quietly before Duncan, and the letters on the frame—“Door of the Lost Ones”—shone in the sunlight.

He pressed down on the handle and gently pushed forward.

Inside the captain’s cabin, Goathead sensed that the Captain had temporarily left the Vanished.

It stayed silent. Everything in the room was silent. Even the whole ship was silent. But after a few minutes, a low creaking sound suddenly came from beneath the floor. Then some of the furnishings in the room began to sway slightly, making all kinds of faint noises.

Goathead’s voice then broke the silence, muttering to itself: “Oh, man… he isn’t mad, right… he shouldn’t be mad… damn, he really isn’t mad, right…”

The faint sounds in the room grew more obvious.

“I know, I know… It’s not like I’m the one who wants to ask for his name every few days! It’s for the safety of the voyage! If we suddenly fall back into Subspace, we should at least be prepared, right… Stop making noise, stop making noise, I’m still all mixed up here… Next time you can ask, how about that? If you can’t, then stop complaining… You all know I’m the only one on this whole ship with a mouth…

“That doll? Are you out of your minds? How would she know what’s going on… Wait, since when did you get so close to her? Aren’t you fighting all day… You feel guilty because you bullied her too much? Is that even a thing?

“All right, all right, scatter, scatter. Focus on the voyage. The Captain could come back at any time, and he might ask about our progress… Hey, anchor, can you learn how to paddle? Swing yourself a bit to provide some thrust. I’ve seen the propellers on those steamships… Fine, forget I said anything… Then how about those two lifeboats? You two can jump down and churn a bit? All right, forget that too…”

The sounds in the captain’s cabin slowly quieted down.

Goathead let out a silent sigh and went on controlling this huge ghost ship, steering it toward the city-state of Pland.

On the enchanted sea chart shrouded in mist, the flickering point that marked that city-state drew a little closer.

…

Zhou Ming pushed open the door of his studio apartment and stepped into the world he knew.

Outside the window, everything was still wrapped in fog. The world he knew still stretched only this short distance.

Everything in the room remained as it had been when he left. The bedding on the bed was a little messy. The book on the bedside table lay open. In the corner, the computer screen flickered faintly, and the notice “Network disconnected” kept popping up again and again in the lower right corner.

Zhou Ming let out a soft breath and walked at ease to the shelf at the far end of the room.

The miniature model of the Vanished still lay quietly in its cubby, exactly where he had placed it last time.

Zhou Ming picked up the lifelike “model” of the ghost ship and opened the door to the captain’s cabin again to glance inside.

The chart table was still empty. Goathead was nowhere to be seen.

Zhou Ming thought for a while, then put the Vanished back in its place. He turned to the desk, planning to sit down and rest, and to sort through the information he already had in this familiar and quiet setting, to straighten out his thoughts.

But suddenly, something on the desk caught his eye.

Strictly speaking, it was not some “thing”, but some strange… phenomenon.

He saw very, very tiny flames jumping on the empty surface of the desk. The small flames linked together like sparks, and under their weak, ghostly green light, some vague outlines appeared and faded in the air.

It was as if something was condensing on the desk, but the forming was too slow, stuck right at the point before taking shape.

Zhou Ming sat down in front of the desk and quietly watched those leaping flames and the scenes whose outlines were faintly taking shape within them. The ghostly green firelight shone on his face, and his slightly thin features gradually grew serious.

He recognized that some of the outlines drawn by the dancing flames were places he knew—that was certain districts of Pland!

He could even make out some details of the city-state’s coastline.

The fire was still burning, and Zhou Ming remembered that the order he had given that flame was to keep chasing and hunting those “things” that carried black umbrellas.

Now it had almost spread to every corner of the city-state.

The prey… was everywhere!?

Zhou Ming’s brows slowly knitted together. Thoughtfully, he traced and picked out the paths along which the flames spread, looking for the pattern of where they gathered and the place they might converge next, like a hunter tracking the scent of his prey.