Chapter 36 - When Day Turns Into Night

Chapter 36 When Day Turns Into Night

Cooking a meal from such a giant fish wasn’t an easy feat.

It wasn’t just about the technique. It also required stamina and strength.

Fortunately, Duncan was driven by his sense of duty as a fisherman and his passion for improving his diet. This gave him plenty of energy to deal with the big fish that he managed to catch today.

He worked for a long time in the kitchen and finally managed to dismantle the bone spike on the head of the hideous fish. After that, with great difficulty, he managed to cut up its fat body into many pieces. The meat on the head of this strange fish was quite sparse, so he decided to toss it aside first. But there was some high-quality meat on the belly and back of it, which were very suitable as ingredients in the Lost Home’s kitchen.

Although it seemed strange that the captain was working in the kitchen personally, Duncan enjoyed it. That said, he wondered what the ordinary folks would think when they saw him like this, given how terrified they were of the ship. Would they be shocked at how the ghost captain could carry out normal daily activities in such an approachable manner? Or would they compliment his outstanding fishing skills?

While separating the meat of the strange fish into portions, Duncan couldn’t help but laugh as he thought about those questions. He started thinking that perhaps there would really be a day when he could invite some people onto his ship as guests. The Lost Home wouldn’t always be synonymous with disaster, and he didn’t plan to be a cruel, cold-blooded ghost captain forever. After learning more about this world, naturally, he had to start adapting to the civilization here.

Duncan decided that when the time came, he would treat the guests on his ship to a fish meal.

After cutting the fish into portions, Duncan stored most of it in a wooden barrel half-filled with sea salt. He then pushed the bulky barrel into the storeroom deep inside the kitchen. He intended to prepare the rest of the fish later on. He was going to dip them in salt and then sun-dry them on the deck. If nothing goes wrong, the sea breeze will turn them into dry fish jerky.

Unfortunately, he didn’t find any spirits with a high alcohol content on the ship. Otherwise, he would have had more ways of preparing the fish.

Of course, it’s a good thing to have fresh fish to eat every day, but Duncan knew that fishing depended on luck. He had a rather good catch today, but that didn’t mean that the same would happen in the future. He had to think about how to store the excess food.

Although the meat jerky and cheese on the Lost Home showed no sign of decay or rotting, Duncan wasn’t sure if it was because there was something special about the ship or something special about the jerky and cheese. He didn’t want the fish that he had taken great effort to catch to go bad.

Salt-cured fish is still better than the salt-cured meat that was made a century ago. At least it’s a change of flavors.

Duncan left the meat that looked the most tender and fresh. He threw them into a pot together with the meat jerky to make a stew. The meat jerky was used as a seasoning in his cooking process.

This primitive cooking process was ruining the previous meat. Any real chef would get high blood pressure if they saw what Duncan was doing to this top-grade fish. The best way to prepare such fresh, tender fish meat is to make it into sashimi or gently sear it in a pan. Duncan knew that as well, but he decided to cook it this way to be safe.

He didn’t recognize this fish that he caught from the ocean, so he didn’t dare to just eat it. Although theoretically, fish from the ocean wouldn’t carry parasites that are harmful to the human body, and the “ghost captain” was probably immune to ordinary poison and venom, but who could know for sure?

Compared to the other preparation processes, stewing is the best way to cook unknown ingredients.

He had to use this method to ensure that this fish was actually edible before considering other ways of cooking it.

Halfway through the afternoon, he finally finished preparing lunch.

He scooped up a bowl of fish soup and put it on the table. The alluring aroma it made was extremely appetizing. Despite that, Duncan cautiously picked up a piece of fish meat, blew on it to cool it down, then placed it in front of Ai, the pigeon.

Of course, pigeons don’t eat meat, but Ai wasn’t an ordinary pigeon.

Duncan needed to satisfy his curiosity. There were too many things that he needed to try on the Lost Home.

As for what to do if this abnormal pigeon actually got poisoned after eating the fish…Duncan had prepared for that as well.

Firstly, he had already tried his best to prepare the fish, so letting the pigeon try it was not essential. Secondly, if something really happened to Ai, Duncan could immediately pull it into its astral form with his green fire. He had tried it before. In its astral form, the feedback from Ai was the same as the brass compass. She was basically an “object” controlled by his spirit fire. He could even disintegrate Ai’s astral form and teleport it to any position around him. In such a state, ordinary poison would definitely not work on her.

Ai tilted her head to one side and looked at Duncan. After confirming that the fish was meant for her, she pecked on the table beside the fish, then looked at Duncan before turning her gaze toward the ceiling. “Are you sure this fruit is ripe?”

Duncan said, “Just say, are you going to eat

it?”

Ai flapped her wings a little, then mocked Duncan’s tone and parroted, “Just say, are you going to eat it?”

Then it lowered its head and pecked at the cooled fish meat at a surprising pace. It managed to finish the meat in a few quick bites, despite it not looking like food meant for pigeons at all!

After finishing the meat, Ai craned its neck and started strutting around on the table arrogantly. It seemed to be in a very good mood. After walking one round, it returned to Duncan and said loudly, “Delicious! Delicious!”

Duncan’s eyes widened as he looked at the pigeon. For some reason, Duncan couldn’t help but think-this little guy is able to copy what I say, change his mind, and repeat his own words!

With these three characteristics, it basically embodies a human (Earthling). Based on the principle of freedom in form, this little dude might just be considered a human on Earth…

After a while, Duncan confirmed that the pigeon had no adverse reactions to the meat, which made him feel at ease.

The captain of the Lost Home and his pet started feasting quietly in their kitchen.

The fish tasted amazing, just like Duncan had experienced in his dream.

The sun gradually went down and approached the edge of the high walls at the fringes of the city. The tall chimneys, pipes, and towers in the City-state of Pland were showered in the golden rays of sunset.

In the city’s central area, the majestic chime of the great bell resounded from the highlands, where the Great Church of the Wind was located. It was followed by the sharp whistle of a pressure relief valve as large swaths of white mist spewed out from the top of the towers on the wings of the church. It was as though clouds had shrouded the sky above the highlands, reflecting the golden sunlight from the surface of the ocean.

This was the signal that day was crossing into the night. It was a warning that the power of the sun was dissipating rapidly. The Wound of the World was about to take over the skies.

Order in the world would transition from stability to precarity from this point on. The influence stemming from the “deep end” of the world was strengthened rapidly as the night fell. This process would continue until the second day when the sun rises again.

At night, cautious individuals would choose to stay at home. People who had to leave their homes would try their best to stay in brightly lit places. The gaslights blessed by the clergy would be able to chase away the malice in the darkness as much as possible.

Regardless of the circumstances, this was a large, prosperous, and stable city-state. Under the legion of the holy Great Church of the Wind, even the influence of the Deep End of the World was suppressed to a safe value. The abnormal phenomena that happened in the city occasionally were inconsequential and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. All ordinary citizens knew how to protect themselves behind their doors. There were also guards from the church that patrolled the city at night, taking over from the sheriffs to ensure order in the city at night.

However, regardless of how bright a streetlight was, there would still be dark shadows that its brilliance could not reach. Even under the noses of the church guards, some fools yearned for darkness and chaos. They feared and resented the existing order in the world and fanatically looked forward to a “beautiful era” that they hadn’t even seen themselves.

Fortunately, in the city-state, where the power of law and order took the dominant position, these subverters could only curl up and hide in the shadows.

Near the border of the city, at the entrance of an abandoned underground sewer, several individuals donning black robes had curled up in the corner of a room.

This was once a resting room for workers maintaining the sewer. It had been abandoned and forgotten due to changes in city planning. This unkempt corner became a safe harbor for cultists after frantically escaping from the light. A dim oil lamp was hung on the wall. Its flickering flame illuminated several depressed, terrified faces lined with hatred.

A man in a black robe, around 30 years old, lay on the “carpet” made of tattered cloth. He gritted his teeth. His face was pale, and his breath was weak and unstable. The others spoke around him. Someone cursed softly, “Those damned church dogs…”

“We lost many of our people. Even the emissary died during the ritual…” Another person said, with a husky voice, “Why did the holy ritual suddenly lose control…”

“The sacrifice… it must be because of the sacrifice. He’s clearly a minion of our enemy…”

“Listen,” One of the men suddenly turned his head, seemingly listening for something. He pointed upward and said, “It’s the sound of the dusk bell and steam whistle.”

“…It’s going to be night soon,” said the person who had started cursing first. He had a deep voice. He then looked at his “comrade” lying on the ground, clearly in critical condition. “Damn it… I hope he survives tonight…”