Chapter 36

Chapter 36 “The Day and Night Cycle”

It’s not easy to cook such a huge fish for lunch.

This was not only technical work but a physical one as well.

Fortunately, the fishing man’s sense of enthusiasm and mission for improving his diet drove Duncan to work with full motivation.

After a long struggle in the kitchen, he finally successfully removed the bone spurs on the neck of the ugly monster fish. Then with some stumble, he splits the fatty body into several pieces, leaving only the head that had no meat to the side.

I wonder what others will think if they saw a ghost captain working in the kitchen. Will they be so shocked and faint? Or will they drop their jaws and scream?

Duncan came up with these thoughts while splitting the flesh from the bones. It made him chuckle at the silliness but also a motivation for that day to come – inviting friends over to the ship, sharing a drink on a good afternoon day, and chatting away about various topics without being called a natural disaster. That’s the type of life he wants, not this lifeless solitude by himself.

After a simple cleaning of the catch, Duncan temporarily puts most of the fish into a barrel covered with sea salt before pushing the container into the warehouse. As for the remaining smaller fishes, he’s going to process them later by marinating and drying them against the breeze.

Unfortunately, no alcoholic spirits were found on the ship; otherwise, the fish could have been handled with more means.

It’s certainly a good thing to have fresh fish to eat every day, but Duncan knows that fishing depends on luck. Today’s harvest may be good, but the next time may not – it’s not like he’s going to know how to process the excess ingredients every time as well.

After all, he had no means to verify if the jerky and cheese in the inventory were special, or that the Vanished was doing the preservation with its ability. Also, he’s not going to take a gamble on the hard-earned fishes by letting them go bad. Dried fish still tasted better than jerky and cheese from a century ago.

Tossing the most tender pieces of fish into the simmering pot along with a piece of jerky, Duncan’s going to stew this until the meat falls apart.

After a while, he relaxed and began to dig into the meal with his pet, and indeed, it’s very tasty as Duncan had imagined.

......

As the setting sun draws closer to the walls of the city’s edge, things were as usual with the towering chimneys, pipes, and towers of the City-State of Pland being bathed in the setting golden glow of the evening.

There are chimes from the Storm Cathedral, the whistling of steam valves releasing their pressure after the factory closes, and the people returning to their homes to settle for the night. They all know, the exchange of day to night has begun, and the influences of the “depths” are coming. Thankfully the effects are mitigated if one stayed home end kept to a brightly lit place – gas lamps blessed by the clergy would effectively dispel the malice lurking in the shadows.

In any case, the Holy Storm Cathedra would continue to watch over the city-state of Pland during the time where civilization was at its weakest. Though there’s the occasional anomaly appearing in the city’s premises at times, but those are usually small and harmless problems.

Of course, there are always going to be fools who yearn for the darkness even under the watchful eye of the church. These are the idiots of society, the deplorable ones who drove themselves into a frenzy for a “glorious” age that’s to yet to come.

Fortunately in the city-states where the forces of order dominate, these subversive individuals often only manages to spend their time curled up in the shadows. Like tonight, in the abandoned sewers of Pland, several figures in black hoods are doing just that – curling up in the corner of a forgotten room and cursing at their luck.

“Damn those church hounds...” A weak and confused-looking thirty-year-old man was lying on the ground with his rags.

“We have lost a large number of our compatriots, and the emissary has died in the ceremony...” said another in a hoarse voice, “how can the sacred ceremony suddenly lose control...”

“That sacrifice... it’s because of that sacrifice. He is clearly a heretic...”

“All of you listen,” a black-robed suddenly gestured them to shush and cocked his ears up, “it’s the sound of the twilight bell and steam whistle.”

“...... It’s almost night,” the black-robed who was the first to curse said in a low voice before looking at a fellow “compatriot” who was lying motionless on a sheet. They’re all in pretty bad shape, but one was far worse than the rest, “Damn it... hopefully he will get through this night.”