Chapter 55 Another Sunset

This time, the sun extinguished itself near dusk—thus, not long after the sky was relit, sunlight gradually faded from the sea.

The magnificent double-rune circle of Anomaly 001 slowly sank into the sea, disappearing into the sky with the last rays of sunset, and night fell—in the city districts not directly illuminated by the "glowing geometric body," the cool glow of the Worldscar and the night draped over everything as usual.

The city quieted down, the gas lamps in the streets emitting a slightly murky light in the darkness, and patrolling Guardian squads passed through the alleys, leaving long shadows at intersections—the experience of the sun extinguishing itself seemed like an unreal dream, gradually dissolving into the night.

However, Duncan could feel that this "nightmare" had not really faded away as it appeared on the surface—a certain oppressive atmosphere still lingered in the city, and in these quiet neighborhoods, tension and unease grew like thick mud in the night.

"...Every household has lit all its lights, and there's a tense atmosphere everywhere," Shirley muttered, leaning against the living room window and looking out at the street. "I definitely don't want to go out on the streets right now... I feel like I can't even breathe."

A Gou shook his head beside her: "There are at least twice as many guards outside today. If you go out on the streets now, you'll be pinned down by the night watchmen immediately. You won't even have time to breathe. Then the captain will have to bail us out of the station again, and then you really won't be able to breathe..."

Vanna leaned against the window and glanced down at Shirley, who was leaning on the windowsill: "I didn't expect you to be so sensitive to 'atmosphere'."

"I'm familiar with this feeling. The gas lamps in the lower city always light up later than in other districts. As night approaches, many families can't afford electric lights, and this tense atmosphere appears as the sky darkens—until the gas lamps light up, the whole street breathes a sigh of relief. We know we can sleep peacefully then."

"But even with the whole city lit up tonight, many people are destined to have a sleepless night," Duncan said as he walked over, patting Shirley's hair with one hand and ruffling A Gou's head with the other. "After the sun extinguished itself for the second time, even the most optimistic people probably can't help but start worrying about one thing—whether the sun will rise again the next day."

Shirley tilted her head to the side, then suddenly looked up at Duncan with a startled expression: "...Ah!? It's really not going to rise tomorrow?!"

Duncan looked strange: "...How would I know? It's not like I have any say in it."

"Oh," Shirley scratched her hair, "I guess not..."

Lucrezia walked over from the side at this time: "News from the 'Observatory' is that the signal released by the luminous body has indeed completely stopped. Now they are preparing to send a team inside the luminous body to check if there have been any changes to the 'stone sphere'."

Duncan raised his eyebrows: "Night work?"

"For the sea area where the 'glowing geometric body' is located, it's always daytime," Lucrezia spread her hands. "Sunlight can calm the anomalous forces on the boundless sea. Research work around the glowing geometric body has always been carried out in twenty-four-hour shifts."

Duncan nodded, then suddenly turned back thoughtfully and looked at Alice, who was winding up Rooney not far away.

The doll lady noticed the gaze and looked up, giving a harmless smile.

After the sun relit, the alarm signal in Alice's "eyes" disappeared, and she returned to her daily state as if nothing had happened.

But Duncan was suddenly a little curious... What would happen if he took her to that "stone sphere" at this time? Would this doll, which is theoretically a "creation" of the Sacred Lord of the Abyss, "see" things that ordinary people couldn't see again in front of the fragment of "Anomaly 001" that was also created by the Sacred Lord of the Abyss?

In fact, Duncan had taken Alice to see that glowing geometric body before, but at that time, no one realized that there was actually a near "homologous" connection between Alice and Anomaly 001, so he didn't specifically conduct tests in this area, and Alice herself didn't focus her attention on the glowing geometric body—but this time, he wanted to do some purposeful "tests."

"...Lucy, I need you to arrange something for me," Duncan turned to look at Lucrezia. "I want to take Alice to see that 'stone sphere'."

Lucrezia was stunned for a moment, but quickly understood Duncan's meaning and nodded immediately: "Understood."

Duncan hummed and looked at the mid-air beside him.

A ghostly green flame ignited out of thin air as his gaze focused, and the fat pigeon, burning with spiritual fire, fluttered its wings and appeared in front of him: "Transmission successful! Transmission successful!"

"It's also time to pick up that unlucky 'Keeper of Truth' by the way," Duncan said casually. "Take a trip to Lawrence's place—the White Oak can serve as a beacon. Do you know the way?"

Ayi tilted his head, thought for a moment, and then flapped his wings vigorously: "Air wife! Fantasy wife! Air wife! Fantasy wife!"

"...Lawrence's wife is no longer a fantasy—don't say this in front of Martha, or she'll stew you," Duncan's eyes twitched as he glared at the pigeon, which was getting fatter every day. "I thought about it, you should wait a while before setting off, and then send Ted Riel directly to the stone sphere. I happen to have something to talk to him about."

The pigeon immediately became excited again: "Talk therapy, referred to as talk therapy~~"

Duncan: "..."

...

Ted Riel put on a warm, thick coat and walked slowly on the stern deck. The cold night wind blew from the sea, carrying a salty, fishy smell, and the sound of fine waves lapping against the hull of the ship rose and fell in the night, gradually calming his mind.

After the sun relit, it normally ushered in the sunset, and after the usual dusk came the quiet night. At this moment, even the cool glow of the Worldscar seemed a little kind.

"For a guy who just did the butterfly stroke back from the subspace, you're recovering pretty well."

A hoarse and unpleasant voice came from the deck not far away. Ted looked in the direction of the sound and saw the ugly dried corpse in the sailor's jacket sitting on a coil of rope near the ship's side, smiling in the night.

That smile was enough to cause nightmares all night.

Ted frowned and walked towards the corpse, leaning against the railing next to him.

"You don't really need that thick coat, Mr. Keeper," the "sailor" glanced at the coat Ted Riel was wearing and said casually. "As far as I know, the constitution of 'Saints' is different from ordinary people. Soaking in seawater for a while shouldn't make you feel cold... Or is the chill of the subspace still soaking you?"

"...This is Captain Lawrence's kindness," Ted said, looking at the clothes he was wearing, then frowned again. "I feel like... you seem to know a lot about 'Saints'?"

"I know a little," the "sailor" grinned, laughing in a dull voice. "I know that no matter what you were like before, after receiving the blessing, you can't be considered completely 'alive'. I also know that your skin is enough to resist swords, your bones can shatter and be reborn, and your broken hearts can still allow blood to flow. You can survive for several days without breathing. Even a 'scholar' like you can become fearless of cold, heat, disease, and all kinds of poisons after being promoted..."

At this point, he paused, casually took out a bottle of beer from the side, and continued while shaking it: "Strictly speaking, you 'Saints' are essentially a group of 'anomalies' in an unsealed state, but ordinary anomalies lose control after being unsealed, and you... those who gave you the blessings are still controlling you."

Listening to the dried corpse's rambling words, Ted Riel's expression suddenly became a little serious: "How do you know so much?"

"I'm a 'sailor'. Sailors should know a lot of strange things, because we are wandering souls on the boundless sea—either wandering in life or wandering in death. The longer we wander, the more we know. There's nothing new on the boundless sea," the "sailor" grinned, holding up the beer in his hand and shaking it. "Want a sip? Pure Storm Brew, good wine produced by the Deep Sea Church itself. I secretly took it from the captain's collection."

"...You dare to steal the captain's things?"

"Stealing wine from the captain's collection is also a necessary part of being a 'sailor'—being hanged on the mast afterward is another part," the corpse laughed in a hoarse voice, raising the bottle and gulping down his throat, then the wine flowed out from his riddled chest and a large hole on the side of his neck, dripping onto the deck. "Hiss—good wine."

Ted Riel didn't pay attention to the corpse's interruption. He still looked at this anomaly, numbered 077 and marked as "special out of control state" in the official data, with suspicion, and suddenly asked after a while: "You used to be a person?"

"How would I know," the sailor shrugged indifferently. "Anyway, 'people' can become anomalies under certain conditions. If you think I am, then I am."

Ted Riel noticed that the sailor didn't mean to answer him directly, so he didn't ask further. After a few seconds of silence, he suddenly changed the topic: "Where is this ship going?"

"Lonsa. The captain took a big order to pick up twelve sealed artifacts there and transfer them to another northern city-state."

"...How many?!"

"Twelve."

"...A large transport ship personally escorted by a Saint has a limit of only eight 'anomalies' per transfer—don't you consider the strict containment conditions of anomalies and the possibility of mutual conflict and influence?" Ted Riel stammered. "Who signed your permit?!"

"The Deep Sea Church signed it. What's wrong?" The sailor looked at Ted. "Don't be so surprised. This is 'Lost Home Fleet' wholeheartedly undertaking the transportation—we transport twelve at a time because there are only twelve sealed artifacts in Lonsa that meet the transportation conditions. As for the anomalies losing control..."

The dried corpse stopped, pointed at himself: "I'm the only 'out of control' anomaly on this ship. Now I'm on duty 24/7, fighting on the ship, scrubbing the deck, and if I meet someone swimming back from subspace, I have to be responsible for diving into the sea to fish them out. If you give me a chance to do it again, I'd rather rot in my shroud than wake up—anomalies that need 'transfer transportation' to enhance the sealing effect also have a certain ability to think. Seeing me like this, they're all as quiet as quails after getting on the ship. Those with innate mobility even learned to help close the door after the captain inspects the seal room..."

Ted Riel: "...?"

(End of chapter)