Capítulo 36: Chapter 36 When Day and Night Alternate
Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Preparing such a huge fish for lunch was no easy task.
This was not only a skillful task but also a physically demanding one.
Fortunately, the fisherman's sense of mission and zest for improving meals drove Duncan, allowing him to tackle the big fish he caught today with great energy.
After much time in the kitchen, Duncan had finally managed to remove the ugly spikes from the monster fish's head and clumsily divided its plump body into several parts. The fish's head, which had little meat, was temporarily set aside by him. The belly and back of the fish had some good quality meat, perfect for becoming ingredients on the Homeloss.
It seemed a bit odd for a captain to be bustling about in the kitchen, but Duncan quite enjoyed it—though he wondered what sort of reaction ordinary people, who were terrified of the Homeloss, would have if they saw this scene. Would they be shocked to see the fearsome ghost ship captain displaying such a down-to-earth and domestic side, or would they first commend Duncan's impressive fishing skill?
As Duncan was cutting the monster fish into chunks, this thought suddenly occurred to him, and he couldn't help but laugh, contemplating that perhaps one day he would warmly invite some people aboard—Homeloss would not always be synonymous with disaster, and he had no intentions of actually being a cold-blooded, merciless ghost ship captain. After further understanding this world, he naturally planned to integrate with contemporary civilized society.
By then, he would simply invite the guests onboard for a fish meal.
After he finished the simple slicing, Duncan put most of the fish meat temporarily into barrels lined with sea salt, then rolled the heavy barrel into the deep storage of the kitchen. The smaller pieces of fish he planned to process later, intending to marinate them and hang them on the deck to dry in the sea breeze, hoping that they would turn into salted fish if all went well.
Unfortunately, he couldn't find any spirits on board, otherwise, there would have been more techniques available for processing the fish.
Having fresh fish every day was certainly good, but Duncan knew that fishing was always a matter of fortune; he fetched a bountiful catch today, but the future might not always be so—hence, considering how to process and preserve excess ingredients was necessary.
After all, although the stored jerked meat and cheese on Homeloss showed no signs of spoilage, he couldn't be sure whether this was due to the unique nature of Homeloss itself or if there was something abnormal about that "jerked meat" and "cheese"—it wouldn't be good if the hard-caught fish went bad.
At least salted fish was better than century-old salted meat, even if just for a change of taste.
Duncan saved the most tender parts that seemed of the finest quality and tossed them into a pot with the dried meat to stew—it served as a seasoning during this process.
This was a wasteful practice; any true chef would have their blood pressure surge through their scalp at the sight of Duncan's method, as the best way to prepare such fresh, tender fish was to make fish minced dish, or at least to fry them moderately—Duncan knew this, but he went ahead for safety reasons.
With sea creatures whose names he did not know, he dared not eat them raw. Although theoretically, sea fish should not carry parasites harmful to humans, and as a "ghost ship captain," he was probably immune to ordinary poisons, there was always the uncertainty.
Compared to other methods, stewing was the most effective way to handle unfamiliar ingredients.
He wanted to test this first. If the fish proved edible, then he would consider other preparations.
By nearly mid-afternoon, his belated "lunch" was finally ready.
A bowl of fish soup was served up, the delicious taste stimulating Duncan's appetite, but before digging in, he prudently forked a piece of fish, cooled it, and placed it in front of the pigeon, Ai Yi.
Pigeons, of course, do not eat meat—but "Ai Yi" was hard to classify as a normal pigeon.
Duncan needed to satisfy his curiosity. On Homeloss, there were too many things he wanted to experiment with.
As for what would happen if this "abnormal pigeon" did get poisoned after eating the fish... Duncan had his reasons prepared.
Firstly, he had treated the ingredients as safely as possible, letting the pigeon try it was just a formality. Secondly, if Ai Yi really showed adverse symptoms, he could instantly use green fire to turn it entirely into a spiritual body—he had tried this before; in its spiritual body state, Ai Yi's feedback, just like with the brass Compass, was like an object controlled by the spirit's fire. He could even disassemble and reassemble spiritual Ai Yi and transport it to a designated spot near him. Under such circumstances, ordinary toxins definitely would not take effect.
Ai Yi cocked its head, observing Duncan's maneuvers, and after confirming that the piece of fish was for him, it first pecked the nearby table surface with its beak, its eyes flitting between Duncan and the ceiling, "Is this melon ripe?"
Duncan, "Just tell me if you will eat it or not."
Ai Yi flapped its wings and mimicked Duncan's tone, "Just tell me if you will eat it or not!"
Then, it lowered its head and pecked at the cold fish with surprising speed, swiftly devouring the food that hardly seemed suitable for a pigeon!
After finishing, Ai Yi stretched its neck vigorously and then strutted pompously on the table. It seemed very pleased, circling around before returning to Duncan and loudly chirping, "Delicious! Delicious!"
Duncan stared at the pigeon, dumbfounded, as a sudden thought popped into his mind—the creature now embodied "pigeon, delicious, parrot" all in one!
With these three key elements intact, it practically shone a human (Earth) light, and with just a bit of random scrambling, it might even pass for a human...
After a while, once Duncan confirmed there were no unusual reactions from the pigeon, he finally relaxed.
The captain of the Homeloss and his pet hid in the kitchen, devouring the provisions.
The fish was indeed delicious, just as Duncan had dreamed.
...
The setting sun was gradually nearing the high walls at the city's edge, and the towering chimneys, pipes, and towers of the Plunder City-State were slowly bathing in the pale golden light.
In the city center, loud bell tolls emanated from the elevated terrain of the Storm Cathedral, accompanied by the piercing whistles of steam escaping pressure valves. A vast cloud of white smoke billowed from the cathedral's side towers, enveloping the sky above the highlands and reflecting the golden sunlight from the sea.
It signaled the transition from day to night—the sun's power was swiftly waning, and the Creation of the World would soon dominate the sky.
The worldly order would start to waver after this, and the influence from the world's "deeper layers" would strengthen rapidly with nightfall, continuing until the sun rose the next day.
During the nighttime, careful individuals would stay home, and those who had to go out would stick to well-lit areas—gas lamps blessed by clergymen could dispel the night's malice to the greatest extent.
But still, this was at least a prosperous and stable City-State under the protection of the sacred Storm Cathedral. Even the deepest influences of the world were suppressed below a safe threshold, and the occasional anomalies in the city were minor issues. The ordinary citizens knew how to secure their homes, and the church's guardians took over the duties of peacekeepers after dark to ensure the city's order.
However, just like the shadows unseen by even the brightest streetlight—there were always fools who yearned for darkness and upheaval right under the eyes of the church's guardians. They feared and loathed the current order, fanatically longing for an "era of prosperity" they had never seen.
Fortunately, in a City-State dominated by the force of order, these subversives spent most of their time cowering in the shadows.
On the edge of the City-State, several figures in black robes were curled up in the corner of a room at the entrance to a disused sewer.
This room, once a temporary resting place for sewer maintenance workers, had now been forgotten due to changes in city planning. An unattended corner became a refuge for the Heretics fleeing in panic—a not very bright oil lamp hung on the wall, its flickering light revealing several gloomy, fearful, and resentful faces.
A thirty-something in a black robe lay on a makeshift bed of rags, clenching his teeth, pale-faced, with feeble and disordered breathing, while others sat nearby. One muttered in a low voice, "Those damned church hounds..."
"We've lost many comrades, and the messenger died during the ritual..." another said hoarsely, "How could the sacred ritual suddenly spiral out of control..."
"It must be because of that sacrifice... he clearly was an agent of heresy..."
"Listen," a robed figure suddenly made a gesture of listening intently and then pointed upwards, "It's the sound of the evening bell and steam whistle."
"…It's almost night," said the first who cursed, his voice deep and uneasy as he glanced at the comrade lying on the ground, clearly in a very bad state, "Damn... I hope he survives the night…"
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