Chapter 304

Chapter 304: Sludge at the Bottom of the Hold

That was the “captain” of the Obsidian, Cristo Barbelli – a tangled mass of matter that almost no longer made anyone think of a human body, a heap that had floated up from the Deep Sea… a replica.

He seemed completely unaware of his own condition, and his mind also seemed a little broken.

He did not know time was passing, and he could not sense the twisting of his own flesh. After losing all sight, most of his sense of touch, and all ability to move, he still seemed far too calm, as if he was trapped in some strange dullness.

That faintly squirming, swelling mass of living tissue kept making a low, hoarse sound. “Cristo Barbelli” greeted the people who came into the room, asking about the current state of the Obsidian and asking what had happened.

Nina saw this strange and terrifying scene. She let out a low cry, then quickly forced it down, covered her mouth with one hand, and instinctively backed away two steps.

For a seventeen-year-old girl like her, this scene was a bit too much.

“The Obsidian had an accident, but we still don’t know the cause,” Duncan said. Facing this so-called Captain Cristo’s questions, he answered while quickly thinking about how to deal with him. “We were just passing by.”

“Ah, that is terrible… I have been trapped here all this time. I have no idea what is happening on the ship,” the mass of tissue stuck to the door let out a regretful sigh. “Is everything else still all right? What about the crew members and passengers? Did you find them?”

“…No, but we did not find any bodies either. They might already have escaped,” Duncan said casually. “Only this room was locked. We heard you knocking.”

“I kept knocking on this door. It is the only thing I can touch in the dark,” Captain Cristo said. “Storm Goddess Gamona preserve us, I hope everyone else is safe…”

The northern city-states were the domain of the God of Death Bartok, but on the Boundless Sea, the Storm Goddess’s divine authority was beyond doubt. No matter their homeland or faith, all captains prayed to the Storm Goddess when they went to sea.

As they listened to his prayer, Vanna and Morris both frowned.

This thing, which was clearly a twisted product, could still say a deity’s name correctly, and could even pray in a clear, sane way?

Duncan had clearly noticed this too. He also thought of what he had learned earlier from Tyrian about the Abyssal Trench Project.

During the Abyssal Trench Project’s runaway state, the “No. 3 Submersibles” that kept surfacing from the Deep Sea had all produced replicants that crawled out of them with no reason and no ability to communicate.

Even the first replicant – even that “replica” that looked the closest to humans – had only let out a few vague, muddled whispers.

That had been an important piece of information from the very beginning. Based on it, Tyrian had judged that those extraordinary manifestations in the Deep Sea near Frostholm during the runaway state could only copy replicas without reason or souls. Yet this twisted entity in front of them, although its thinking and understanding seemed a bit off, clearly had normal reason and memories, and could even speak smoothly with others.

Where was the problem?

Was it because the Obsidian was not, as they first guessed, the same kind of replica as the “No. 3 Submersible”? Was the source of the twisting on this ship something else altogether? Or had the Deep Sea’s extraordinary manifestations near Frostholm changed in the past half century, so that the replicas it now created had begun to develop minds of their own?

Or…

Duncan quietly looked at “Captain Cristo,” who was stuck to the door.

Or maybe the captain’s own mind really was inside this mass of tissue – his soul had somehow been shoved into this twisted replica.

The more Duncan thought about it, the more he felt this was the most likely explanation.

“Are you still there?” Maybe Duncan stayed silent for too long, because Cristo’s voice came again from inside the tissue. “Can you help me get out of here? Or is my condition actually very bad? Is it… severe nerve damage?”

Duncan let out a sigh.

He knew he had to tell the man the truth, even if it was cruel.

Cruel things on the Boundless Sea were beyond counting.

But just as he was about to speak, Vanna’s voice suddenly came from the side and cut him off: “Mr. Cristo, your condition is indeed not good. We cannot move you for now. You may need to stay here a bit longer – after we finish searching the other areas, we will think of a way to help you.”

Duncan gave Vanna a questioning look. She raised her hand and pointed at the wall on the far side of the room.

There was a huge hole in that wall. On the other side of the opening was a sloping passage that led to somewhere unknown, dark and eerie inside.

Duncan understood what Vanna meant at once.

This ship still had far too many unexplored areas. Before they figured out what had happened to the Obsidian, they could not be certain what this “Captain Cristo” really was or where he had come from.

It was best to calm this strange “replica” for now and finish searching the whole ship before deciding what to do with him.

Duncan gave a small nod.

A professional was a professional. That sharp sense for danger clearly came from dealing with too many heretics and malevolent spirits.

“All right… I understand,” Cristo said. His voice carried some regret and unease. “I will wait here. But how long will you be gone?”

“Maybe a few hours, but we will come back as soon as we can,” Vanna said. “Please don’t worry, we will not abandon you. Your condition is not good, but nothing serious will happen in the short term. Stay still, stay calm, and wait a while.”

“Then… fine. Come back soon.”

The squirming, swelling mass of tissue quieted down.

He seemed very anxious about his condition, but after Vanna’s reassurance, he became surprisingly cooperative and calm.

Was the “captain” always like this by nature? Or was this calmness also a sign of his twisted thoughts and understanding? Duncan had no way to know.

Now, everyone’s attention turned to the big hole in the wall at the far end of the room.

Of course a normal room would not have such a hole, and would not have a crooked ramp hidden in that hole. This opening was clearly another result of the Obsidian’s twisted inner structure.

It looked deep and long. Where did it lead?

Duncan walked across the upside-down, jumbled room to the hole, leaned forward, and peered inside. He saw only darkness stretching down into the hollow, and a slanting passage that seemed to be pieced together from corridors and several twisted staircases. The passage extended downward. From time to time a draft of air blew up, as if there were more passages or a larger space at the bottom.

He stepped in. The others followed close behind.

The pigeon AI, wreathed in spirit form flames, once again became the search party’s torch. In the light of the spirit form fire, the corridor, already deep and gloomy, looked even stranger.

“The twisting down here seems even worse than above…”

Morris lifted his head and glanced at the shadowy ceiling where the light and dark crossed, speaking in a thoughtful tone.

Above the passage, they could vaguely see all kinds of tangled structures: stair railings, doors from who knew where, machine parts, pipes and wires, and even tables and chairs.

If the upper decks still held some vague trace of a normal layout, then this ramp leading deeper into the Obsidian was like a heap of junk made by grinding everything up and sticking it back together. It was a crisscrossing nightmare that stretched down into the steel giant’s inner organs.

“It seems the closer you get to the replicant’s center, the worse the copying accuracy becomes,” Vanna said, then added, “If this ship really is a replicant similar to the ‘No. 3 Submersible’.”

“When we get back, I will have to talk with Tyrian,” Duncan said from the front. “He may be very interested in what happened to the Obsidian.”

“But I think before that, he will first be scared half to death by you,” Vanna could not help muttering. “I have spoken with him. He has some serious shadows in his heart.”

Duncan slowed down and looked back at Vanna.

Vanna instantly felt a bit awkward. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Duncan laughed. “I was just thinking that you can finally talk to me like a normal person. This feels right.”

Vanna opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say something more, but at that moment, the light from AI in front of them suddenly dimmed. Right after that, their field of view opened up.

The passage had reached its end.

Below them was indeed a wide-open space.

“A cargo hold?” Morris frowned as he looked at the broad, dim place ahead. He saw a flat, open area. Compared to the twisted ramp they had just come down, this place was almost impossibly “orderly,” yet he could not tell what this space had originally been used for.

“Don’t tell me the deepest part of this ghost ship is just an empty cavity,” Nina muttered nervously as she looked around. “Did everything get piled onto the upper two decks?”

No one could answer her.

Alice looked around curiously and walked forward a few steps.

“Eh?”

Miss Doll suddenly stopped and let out a short cry. She stared in shock at the floor under her feet and began wiping her shoe on the ground beside her.

“I think I stepped on something!” She turned back and said to Duncan with an innocent look. “It’s sticky and kind of gross…”

“Sticky?” Duncan frowned and quickly walked to Alice’s side. He looked down at the spot she had just stepped on.

He saw a dark patch of matter that looked like sludge. In the middle of that black, sticky stuff, he could still faintly see Alice’s shoe print.

But the shoe print was vanishing fast.

The “sludge” was squirming!

It was alive!