Chapter 303

Chapter 303: .

Duncan had Ai perched on his shoulder as he was the first to pass through the hole and step into the upside-down corridor. The others followed one after another behind him, and this time Vanna took the rear, in case of a sudden ambush.

The group moved carefully along the corridor. Everyone watched their surroundings at all times and studied every feature of the corridor as they went.

Once they entered the corridor, they did notice some details they had missed at the entrance.

The corridor was not just upside down. Distortion and strangeness were everywhere.

Doors of all kinds of mismatched sizes were set haphazardly into the walls on both sides, some upright, some upside down. round portholes appeared from time to time, but the other side of the glass was either a wall or yet another door or window. Strange geometric bulges jutted from the walls and floor, looking like pieces of rooms from somewhere else that had been fused into the corridor in the wrong way.

The inside of the Obsidian felt like the innards of a huge beast after a terrifying doctor had butchered and rearranged them. All its organs were twisted and piled together at random. Rooms overlapped, doors slanted, exits and entrances linked to this corridor, which seemed to be the main passage, in utterly random ways. And at the far end of the corridor… who knew what might be lurking in the dimness.

The ghost ship was very quiet. Only the sound of their footsteps rang out as they struck the “floor” that should have been a ceiling. The sound echoed through the hull, and there seemed to be something else mixed into the echo.

Nina and Shirley looked somewhat nervous. Alice, on the other hand, seemed fine. It was not that the doll was brave; she simply lacked common sense. All her experience with ships and sailing came from the equally cursed and bizarre Vanished, so she did not think there was anything here worth fearing.

They walked on for who knew how long. The long corridor seemed to stretch endlessly into the dark, and the area ahead looked dimmer and dimmer. Duncan poked the pigeon on his shoulder: “Light.”

Ai let out a sharp cry at once: “Take up this battle axe of the Sun! Embrace the glory of combat!”

As the pigeon shouted, bright green flames rose over its body. The blazing fire quickly drove away the darkness in the corridor.

Vanna stared in shock at the scene and whispered to Morris in front of her: “This pigeon… can be used like this?”

Morris sounded very calm: “The captain does this all the time. When the pigeon is not with him, he uses himself as a light source.”

Vanna stared: “…?”

But this time, before she could once again lament the gap between the legendary Captain Duncan and the one in the Mortal Realm, a sudden noise cut off everyone’s movements.

“Thump, thump, thump…”

It sounded like a dull knocking, from behind a nearby door.

Everyone stopped at once. All eyes turned to where the sound had come from.

It was a blue door, with the words “Captain’s Cabin” written on it.

On a normal ship, the captain’s cabin could never be in a place like this. But on this ghost ship, where everything was already in chaos and all the cabin entrances were piled together at random, any door could appear anywhere.

“Thump, thump, thump…”

The knocking came again, louder than before and now a bit urgent.

It sounded as if a survivor of a shipwreck were hiding behind the door, and after hearing movement in the corridor, had started pounding on it in panic to call for help.

Vanna silently reached back to grip the greatsword on her back. Shirley lifted the black chain in her hand. Nina slipped behind Alice, and Alice raised her arms to cover her head.

With a blank face, Duncan walked up to the door.

The dull knocking continued without stopping.

But Duncan did not seem about to open the door. He only bent his fingers and knocked twice in return.

The knocking inside stopped at once, as if the one making the sound was taken aback. After a few seconds of silence, a hoarse, low voice suddenly broke it, coming from behind the blue door: “Is… someone out there?”

“Yes,” Duncan said calmly.

“Ah, that’s great! I am the captain of the Obsidian. I don’t know what has happened on the ship, but I am trapped,” the hoarse voice said at once. “Kind sir outside the door, what is your name? Could you help me open it?”

“Just call me Duncan,” Duncan said. At the same time, he pressed a hand down behind him to signal the others to stay calm. “Before I open the door, I want to confirm something, are you really the captain of the Obsidian?”

“Of course! My name is Cristo Barbelli. You can check my name and identification number at the Harbor Office. My papers are right here in the room,” the voice answered at once. “But… for some reason this damned door will not budge at all, and I really have no way to come out and prove my identity to you…”

“Next question,” Duncan said. He ignored the rambling behind the door and went on: “What year is it?”

“This year?” The voice inside clearly froze for a moment, probably thinking the question was odd, but still answered: “Why, it’s 1894, of course. Is there something wrong with that?”

Duncan glanced back at Morris, and the latter gave a slight nod.

1894. That was the year the Obsidian was lost at sea.

Thinking of that shipwreck, Morris suddenly stepped forward and asked: “Excuse me, Captain, do you know if there is a passenger named ‘Brown Scott’ on your ship?”

“A passenger?” The voice behind the blue door sounded a bit unsure. “I cannot remember the name of every passenger on board, but… are you talking about Brown Scott? Ah, I remember now, that one I do know. The folklorist? He is a man of some repute. I spoke with him several times. I recall he is a rather thin gentleman, with his hair and beard always neatly kept. He has studied the funeral customs of various city-states, and he is very interested in the frozen seas north of Frostholm…”

Listening to the voice behind the door, Morris nodded slightly and said to Duncan in a low voice: “No discrepancy.”

“His mind is clear, his memory intact, and he can state his name accurately,” Vanna, who had been silent until now, suddenly said. “But that does not rule out an evil creature that has absorbed human memories and emotions and is using them to set a trap. Such things are not rare on ghost ships.”

“Oh, that does not really matter. As long as it truly has that captain’s memories, it’s enough,” Duncan said carelessly. “Monsters can talk reason first too. If reason does not work, we use physics. One way or another, it will understand.”

Vanna stared for a moment. “…That is true.”

Duncan put his hand on the blue wooden door’s handle.

“I’m going to open the door now, Mr. Barbelli,” he said to the person inside.

Then he turned the handle. Unlike the other completely rusted cabin doors they had seen, this one showed no signs of damage. As he turned it, he heard the soft click of the lock turning at once.

The door opened.

Under everyone’s slightly tense gaze, Duncan pushed the door open.

A twisted, upside-down room appeared before them.

All the walls were crooked, and the ceiling slanted as if it were about to collapse completely. The room’s original furnishings had been randomly fused into the nearby walls and floor, as if buried in wood and metal. Only broken halves of tables and chairs stuck out here and there. On the wall facing the door there was an especially large hole, and beyond it was only darkness. It was impossible to tell where it led.

The twisted room itself was empty.

Duncan swept his gaze over the empty room, but the next second he heard Captain “Cristo Barbelli’s” voice coming again from behind the blue door: “Ah, did you open the door? I think I felt it move, but it still does not budge in my hand… Is something wrong with my senses or my perception? Could you help me? I may have been stuck out at sea for too long and started to show some bad symptoms. If there is a priest willing to lend a hand, that would be even better…”

Duncan frowned.

He stepped into the warped room and slowly turned the door around to look at the back of the door panel.

He saw “Cristo Barbelli”.

There was a mass of something, clinging to the door like a half-melted, broken wax figure. In the sagging, twisted shape he could vaguely make out an arm pressed flat against the door panel, a few strands of tissue connecting to the hand, and a large lump of “body” whose true form could not be seen at all.

This horrible, twisted thing had fused with the door. When Duncan’s gaze fell upon it, it was still swelling and shrinking slightly, squirming as it spoke in a hoarse, low voice from somewhere inside its structure:

“Ah, I cannot see you. Have you come in? The room may be a bit messy. There was a big tremor earlier, and I have not tidied up since… My sight seems to have some problems, but they are not too serious. The worst part now is that I cannot move my body. I think I have forgotten how to control my hands and feet. By the way, did you bring a doctor?”