Chapter 2

Chapter 2: the Vanished’s Captain

This was not the first time Zhou Ming crossed this door to the “other side”.

Ever since a few days ago, when Zhou Ming woke up and found that some kind of “phenomena” had trapped him in his room and a strange, heavy fog had covered the whole world, he had discovered the bizarre place on the other side of the door.

After all, that door was now the only exit from his “room”.

He still remembered the confusion and helplessness the first time he opened the door and saw a deck outside. He remembered even more clearly the shock and panic the first time he looked down and saw that his body had changed. But after that, in order to find a chance to break out of his situation, he had forced himself to boldly explore “this side” several times. Now, although he still had no idea what had really happened to him, and still did not understand what was going on with this strange, huge ship that had appeared outside his apartment door, he had at least gained some experience and a rough understanding of the ship.

As in the past few times, Zhou Ming forced himself, in as short a time as possible, to shake off the dizziness brought on by passing through the door. Then he immediately checked the condition of this body. He examined the short pistol in his hand, comparing every detail with his memory. In the end he confirmed that the things he carried were the same as when he last left the deck.

“…Looks like every time I pass through this door, the body ‘switches’ seamlessly… If only I could put a camera out here on the deck. Then I could check whether this body changes when I open the captain’s cabin door and go back to the apartment…

“Too bad objects from the two ‘worlds’ can’t pass through the door, so there’s no way to bring a camera over…

“But the phone in my apartment did record what happened when I passed through the door from that side. I really did walk through that black fog… so it really is that the body ‘changes’ into this form when it goes through the fog?”

Zhou Ming muttered to himself. He knew that standing on the deck and talking like this would look a bit ridiculous to anyone watching, but he had to make some noise. On this vast, empty, eerie ghost ship… he needed something to prove that he was still “alive”.

A fishy, salty sea wind blew across the deck and fluttered the dark blue captain’s coat of unknown material on his body. Zhou Ming let out a soft sigh, but he did not walk deeper across the deck. Instead, he turned around and looked at the door behind him.

He put his hand on the doorknob.

If he turned the knob and pushed the door inward, he would see a thick gray-black fog. If he walked through that fog, he would return to the single apartment where he had lived for many years.

He tightened his grip and yanked the door outward instead.

The slightly heavy oak door creaked. Behind it was a dim cabin. In the unclear light he could see fine tapestries hanging on the walls and shelves full of ornaments. There was a wide chart table in the center of the room. At the far end of the room there was another small door, with a wine-red carpet laid in front of it.

If he pushed the door inward, he would return to his apartment. If he pulled it open, it led to the captain’s cabin—and the latter was clearly the “normal facility” on this ship.

Zhou Ming stepped into the captain’s cabin. As he passed the doorway, he habitually glanced to the left. A full-height mirror was fixed to the wall there, and in it he clearly saw what “Zhou Ming” looked like now.

It was a tall man with thick black hair and a stern short beard. His eye sockets were deep, and his face alone carried an air of authority that did not need anger to be frightening. He looked to be over forty, but his bold features and heavy gaze blurred any sense of age. The well-made captain’s uniform he wore made the man in the mirror look even more special.

Zhou Ming rolled his neck and then made a face at the mirror. He thought of himself as an easygoing, friendly person, and the image in the mirror really did not match his temperament. But he quickly gave up, because he felt that the man in the mirror did not look any friendlier. Instead, he looked less like a stern captain and more like a psychopathic serial killer…

As Zhou Ming was doing all this, a faint clicking sound came from the direction of the chart table. He looked over without surprise and saw a wooden Goathead statue on the table slowly turning its face toward him. The dead wood seemed to come alive for a moment, and the obsidian eyes set in its wooden face stared gloomily this way.

The memory of his panic the first time he saw this eerie scene flashed through his mind, but Zhou Ming only curled the corner of his mouth. He walked toward the chart table, and the wooden Goathead on the table turned its neck bit by bit with him. A hoarse, gloomy voice came from its wooden body: “Name?”

“Duncan,” Zhou Ming said calmly. “Duncan Abnomar.”

The wooden Goathead’s voice instantly changed from hoarse and gloomy to warm and friendly: “Good morning, Captain. I’m very glad to see you still remember your own name. How is your mood today? How is your body today? Did you sleep well last night? I hope you had a good dream. Also, today is a fine day to set sail. The sea is calm, the wind is just right, cool and comfortable, and there are no annoying navy ships or noisy crew members. Captain, do you know what a noisy crew member…”

“You are noisy enough already,” Zhou Ming said. Even though this was not his first time dealing with the eerie Goathead, he still felt his brain throb. He glared at the thing almost viciously and squeezed the word out between his teeth: “Quiet.”

“Oh, oh, oh, of course, Captain. You like quiet. Your loyal first mate, second mate, chief sailor, sailor, and lookout all in one knows this very well. There are many benefits to keeping quiet. There was once a man in the field of medicine… or maybe philosophy, or architecture…”

Now Zhou Ming felt not only his brain but even his bronchi starting to tremble. “I mean, I order you to be quiet!”

The moment the word “order” left his mouth, the Goathead finally fell silent.

Zhou Ming let out a small breath of relief and stepped over to sit in front of the chart table. For now, he was the “captain” of this empty ghost ship.

Duncan Abnomar. A strange name, a tongue-twisting surname.

The first time he stepped through that layer of gray-black fog and onto this ship, these facts had appeared in his mind. He knew that this body he had on “this side” was named Duncan. He knew he was the ship’s master. He knew the ship was on a long voyage far beyond imagination. He knew these things, and only these things.

The memories left in his mind were so vague and thin that only those key fragments remained. All other details were blank. It was as if he knew the ship had some astonishing voyage planned, but had no idea where it was going. The ship’s original master—the real “Duncan Abnomar”—seemed to have died a very, very long time ago.

And the things left in Zhou Ming’s mind felt more like the last, deepest impressions a ghost captain had left in the world after completely dying.

Instinct told Zhou Ming that there was something very wrong behind this “Captain Duncan” identity. Especially since there were supernatural phenomena’s on the ship—like a talking wooden Goathead—the mystery around Captain Duncan might mean some danger he had never even imagined. Yet he had to keep using this name in order to move safely around the ship.

Because, just like the wooden Goathead just now, certain things on the ship were constantly trying to verify the captain’s identity.

Even the ship itself seemed to be checking the captain’s identity at all times.

It felt like some kind of safety measure, as if the ship’s captain might forget his own name at any moment, and once he forgot it, something extremely terrible and dangerous would happen. So the ship had “checks” set up everywhere.

Zhou Ming did not know what would happen if “Captain Duncan” forgot his name, but he was sure that nothing good would come of giving the wrong name.

After all, even the wooden Goathead on the chart table alone did not look like a kind soul.

But as long as he wore the name Duncan Abnomar, everything on the ship seemed fairly mild and friendly.

Anyway, none of them looked very smart.

Zhou Ming—or maybe he should call himself Duncan now—ended his short moment of thought and memory, then looked at the enchanted sea chart spread out on the table.

However, there were no recognizable routes, markings, or land on the enchanted sea chart at all. There was not even an island. On the rough, thick sheet of parchment he could only see large patches of gray-white clumps constantly surging and rolling. Those gray-white, fog-like things seemed to cover whatever routes should have been on the paper. The only thing visible in the center of the enchanted sea chart was the faint silhouette of a ship looming in the thick mist.

In the several decades of his life, Duncan (Zhou Ming) had never had any experience sailing out to sea, but even someone who knew nothing about sea charts would know that a “normal” enchanted sea chart should not look like this.

Clearly, like the wooden Goathead on the table, this enchanted sea chart was also some kind of supernatural item. Duncan just had not yet figured out how to use it.

It seemed that once the captain’s attention finally stayed on the enchanted sea chart, the Goathead that had been quiet on the table for a long time started moving again. It began to make clicking sounds as the wood rubbed, and its neck twisted back and forth in small movements. At first it turned rather carefully, but soon the clicking grew impossible to ignore. In the end, its whole head started shaking on the base as if someone had turned on a vibration mode.

Afraid that if it kept twitching it would start drilling sparks into his chart table, Duncan finally could not help glancing at it. “Speak.”

“Yes, Captain. I must repeat: today really is a fine day to set sail. The Vanished, as always, is waiting for your orders! Shall we raise the sails?”