Chapter 36: The Alternation of Day and Night
Preparing such a huge fish for lunch was no easy feat.
It was not only a matter of skill, but also one of physical labor.
Fortunately, the mission-driven spirit of the fisherman and his passion for improving the crew’s diet jointly fueled Duncan, energizing him to tackle the big catch of the day.
After a long ti bustling around the kitchen, he finally managed to remove the spiky bones from the ugly monster fish’s head and, after so stumbling, divided its plump body into several pieces. The monster fish’s head, practically atless, was temporarily set aside; the belly and back, however, contained so good-quality parts, perfect for becoming ingredients aboard the Holoss.
It was sowhat odd to see the captain himself bustling in the kitchen, but Duncan thoroughly enjoyed it—how the ordinary people who regarded the Holoss with dread would react upon witnessing this scene, he did not know. Would they be shocked to find the fearso Ghost Ship’s captain showing such an approachable and dostic side, or would they first admire Duncan’s excellent fishing skills?
While cutting up the monster fish into pieces, Duncan suddenly thought of this and, in high spirits, couldn’t help but laugh. He mused that perhaps one day he might warmly invite so guests aboard—Holoss wouldn’t be synonymous with disaster forever, nor did he plan to be a cold-blooded and ruthless Ghost Ship captain. After further understanding the world, he would naturally integrate with contemporary civilized society.
By then, he’d have his guests aboard enjoy the fish.
After completing the simple butchering, Duncan stored most of the fish at in barrels lined with sea salt and pushed the hefty barrels into the back of the kitchen’s storeroom. He planned to process the smaller pieces later, curing them and hanging them to dry on deck. If all went well, they would beco salted fish dried in the sea breeze.
It was a pity there was no strong liquor on board, or there would have been more ways to process the fish.
Having fresh fish to eat every day was surely wonderful, but Duncan knew fishing was all about chance. Today’s bountiful catch might not be repeated in the future—he had to consider how to preserve any surplus ingredients.
After all, although the dried at and cheese stored on the Holoss showed no signs of rot, he couldn’t be sure whether this was due to anything special about the Holoss itself or if there was sothing unusual about the “dried at” and “cheese”. It would be a sha if the hard-caught fish went to waste.
Salted fish was at least better than century-old salted at, even for a change of taste.
Duncan kept the most tender pieces that looked to have the best texture and threw them into a pot along with the dried at to stew—the dried at acted as seasoning in this process.
This was a wasteful practice; any real chef witnessing Duncan’s thod would see their blood pressure surge through the roof. The delicate fish at was best suited for making sashimi or moderate grilling—Duncan was aware of this but he chose this thod for safety’s sake.
He dared not carelessly eat raw the unfamiliar creature caught from the sea, although theoretically, sea fish shouldn’t carry parasites harmful to human bodies, and as a “Ghost Ship captain” he probably wouldn’t be affected by ordinary toxins. But what if?
In comparison, stewing was the most effective way to safely prepare unfamiliar ingredients.
He wanted to try it this way first to confirm that the fish was indeed edible before considering other thods.
By the ti it was nearly mid-afternoon, his belated “lunch” was finally ready.
A bowl of fish soup was served, and the delicious taste made Duncan’s appetite soar, but before digging in, he prudently first forked a piece of fish at, cooled it, and placed it before the pigeon Ai Yi.
Pigeons, of course, don’t eat at—but “Ai Yi” could hardly be called a normal pigeon.
Duncan needed to satisfy his curiosity; aboard the Holoss, he had too many things to try.
As for what he’d do if the “abnormal pigeon” actually got poisoned after eating the fish at… Duncan had a plan for that too.
First, he had processed the ingredients as thoroughly as possible, and letting the pigeon taste it was just a formality. Secondly, if Ai Yi did show signs of distress, he could imdiately pull it into a Spiritual Body state using green fire—he had tried this before. In the Spiritual Body state, Ai Yi, like the feedback from the brass Compass, would be like an item controlled by the fire of the Spiritual Body. He could even disassemble and reassemble Spiritual Body Ai Yi and teleport it to a designated position next to him. Under such circumstances, ordinary toxins would surely be ineffective.
Ai Yi cocked its head to look at Duncan’s actions, and after confirming that the piece of fish at was intended for it, it first pecked at the table beside it, its eyes glancing fleetingly between Duncan and the ceiling, “Is this lon ‘ripe’ enough?”
Duncan replied, “Just say whether you’ll eat it or not.”
Ai Yi flapped her wings, mimicking Duncan’s tone, “Just say if you’re going to eat it or not!”
Then she lowered her head and pecked at the cooled fish flesh with surprising speed. In just a few nibbles, she had finished off what didn’t look like bird food at all!
After eating, Ai Yi stretched her neck and then strutted proudly across the table. She seed very pleased and, after circling around, returned in front of Duncan, loudly chirping, “Delicious! Delicious!”
Duncan watched the pigeon with his mouth agape, suddenly thinking to himself—this creature now embodied “pigeon, delicious, and parrot” all in one!
With these three elents combined, it was practically a light of humanity (Earth), according to the flexible “free nine-square grid.” It wouldn’t be a stretch to consider it an Earthling…
After a while, Duncan confird that the pigeon was not showing any abnormal reactions and finally put his mind at ease.
The captain of the Holoss and his pet were thus hiding in the kitchen feasting on food supplies.
The fish was indeed delicious, just as Duncan had dread.
…
The setting sun was inching toward the high walls at the city’s edge. The towering chimneys, pipes, and towers of the Plunder City-State were gradually bathed in a pale golden glow.
In the city central, the loud bell from Storm Cathedral on the highlands rang out, accompanied by the sharp whistling of steam escaping from relief valves. A large cloud of white steam burst forth from the towers flanking the cathedral, enveloping the sky above the highlands like layers of clouds, reflecting the golden sunlight from the sea.
This was the signal for the day-night transition—a reminder that the power of the sun was about to wane rapidly and the Creation of the World would soon take dominance in the sky.
The order of the mundane world would shift from stability to instability after this transition, and the influence from the world’s “depths” would strengthen quickly as the night set in, continuing until the sun rose the next day.
At night, the cautious stayed at ho, and those who had to go out made sure to stay in brightly lit places—the gas lamps blessed by clergy could dispel the night’s malice to the greatest extent.
Nevertheless, this was still a prosperous and stable great City-State; under the protection of the sacred Storm Cathedral, even the deepest influences of the world were suppressed below a safe threshold. The occasional anomalies that appeared in the city were minor issues, and ordinary citizens knew how to ensure the safety within their hos. Furthermore, the church guardians took over the duties of the peace officers at night to maintain order in the city after dusk.
But like the shadows that escape even the brightest streetlight, there were always fools longing for darkness and upheaval under the very noses of the church’s guardians, fearing and loathing the existing order of the world, and feverishly anticipating an “era of bliss” they had never seen themselves.
Fortunately, in a City-State where the forces of order were dominant, these subversive elents could only cower in the shadows most of the ti.
On the fringes of the City-State, in the depths of an abandoned sewer entrance, a few figures in black robes huddled in a corner.
This place was once a temporary resting room for sewer maintenance personnel, but now forgotten with the changes in urban planning, the neglected corner had beco a refuge for heretics fleeing in haste—a dimly lit oil lamp hung on the wall, its flickering light revealing faces filled with gloom, fear, and resentnt.
A black-robed person around thirty lay on a makeshift bed of rags, clenching his teeth, pale-faced with weak and chaotic breaths. Others sat near him; one muttered in a low voice, “Those damned church hounds…”
“We’ve lost many brethren, and our ssenger died during the ritual…” another said hoarsely, “How could the sacred ritual lose control so suddenly…”
“It was that sacrifice… it’s clear it was because of that sacrifice, he obviously was a pawn of the heretics…”
“Listen,” said a black-robed person suddenly, making a gesture of listening intently and then pointing upward, “It’s the sound of the evening bell and the steam whistle.”
“…Nightfall is upon us,” the first to curse in a low voice said anxiously glancing at their “brother” lying on the makeshift bed, who was clearly in a dire state, “Damn… I hope he makes it through the night…”
Reviews
All reviews (0)