Chapter 97 “Who is making the list?”
After a little recollection, Duncan finally remembered where he had seen this face—this was the prestigious female inquisitor of Pland, Vanna Wayne!
Her name and picture appeared in the newspapers.
Why am I seeing such a scene? And why is the person a follower of the storm goddess? Is there a hidden connection between her and me? When did it get established? How come I didn’t notice it before?
Countless thoughts popped up in Duncan’s mind for a moment, but the next second, the messy thoughts were interrupted by something that swept into his line of sight – the document Vanna was reading.
The content was written in a rigorous format, with the sacred symbol of the storm goddess printed on the paper. The first sentence at the beginning was as follows: I hereby inform the captains and accompanying priests and guides that Anomaly 099, the puppet coffin, has recently gone out of control. The most holy and wise have witnessed the cursed thing being lost in the storm, and the characteristics are hereby as listed….
Duncan’s eyes slowly widened as he gazed over Vanna’s shoulder. The document described various details relating to Alice. Like where she originated from, what curses she possessed, how she was concepted, and the nickname Alice Guillotine…
Eventually, his gaze locked onto a bit about the White Oak being attacked. He wanted to read more, but Vanna’s tall stature blocked off the important bits from view.
“One side, just move a little bit to one side…” Duncan cursed inwardly and kept repeating the phrase.
Still unaware of the snooping ghost captain, Vanna suddenly felt a wisp of cold breeze blowing around her earlobe. Out of reflex, she subconsciously looked to the window where she had left a crack open for air. The lady’s not afraid of course. The flames from the oil lamps will dispel any malicious shadows at night.
“Go ahead and store it. The wording by the head bishops is very good. It’s safe to begin distribution.” She hands the document back to the cleric.
The regional bishop nodded, then stepped forward to take away the document. Turning on the electric lamp in the room to brighten the darkness, the cleric asks: “Are you going to rush back to the central cathedral tonight?”
“Bishop Valentine is still waiting for me to discuss things,” Vanna bowed her head slightly, “The city is restless lately. We may need to conduct a large-scale prayer service to strengthen the protection around the state.”
After saying that, she glanced up at the chandelier hanging from the roof where the light bulbs were shining. Sighing at the image: “Aigh…. if only electric lights have the same effect of dispelling evil spirits like a flame. Their range is so much farther…”
“I know Milady,” the regional bishop spread out his hands, “it’s a pity that electricity is not sacred.”
Vanna shook her head and said nothing to comment. It was time she left, which she did by bidding farewell to the cleric and striding out of the lounge.
After Vanna left and the cleric dispersed, only the burning oil lamp remained near the window, flickering and burning eerily with a green tint to the orange. Then it faded, returning to the common yellowish orange.
Duncan had retracted his connection away from the mirror and dispelled the layer of green film. He’s seen enough. In the last second when Vanna turned around, one line instantly caught his eye: Vision 005 – the Vanished.
“So the classification of the Vanished is indeed that of a ‘vision’, and the rank is so high too…” He returned to his desk and muttered thoughtfully until another question wandered up. “But then again, why is the ship’s ranking so high?”
According to Nina’s textbook, the ranking of anomalies and visions are based upon the rules left behind by the Kingdom of Crete from ancient times. But what are the determining criteria? How do they interpret the threat? Does historical importance play a factor?
Initially, Duncan never thought about these issues, but now he’s got a lot of questions that need answering.
This number… Is it in the order of discovery?
If it is arranged in the order of discovery, then the Vanished shouldn’t be this high. There are plenty of other things that came before the ship. In theory, 005 should’ve been occupied long ago.
But if the ranking isn’t due to the time of discovery, then what’s the key factor? The danger it poses? Wouldn’t the ranking be in need of constant change then? Such a big constant task would be too constantly. That couldn’t be it.
Although Duncan lacked credible knowledge, the textbooks mention that in most situations, most upper numbers are more dangerous and frightening than the lower ones.
Now this brings up a very interesting question worthy of note: if the existing list was a relatively stable and easily unchanged ranking board, then its arranger must be no different than a prophetic figure. The person must be able to predict the “ranking” of almost every anomaly and vision. Not only to accurately assign the position when discovered but also to leave “empty spaces” between each number on the table for future discoveries.
Duncan definitely had a lot of interest behind those making a list, but the curiosity soon died down for the time being. The reason being? He didn’t expect Alice’s name to be so famous!
“I’m going out for a bit.” Duncan casually said to the dove on the table and strode out of the captain’s bedroom.
The goat head in the charting room heard the noise and immediately turned his head with a creak. After seeing it was Duncan who came out, he routinely asked: “Name…”
“Duncan Abnomar. Stop asking me about that. Where is Alice?”
“Ah, captain…” The goat head wanted to habitually do his balabala again but was blocked with a snarl. Creaking his neck to answer, “You looking for Miss Alice? She might be counting her hair in her room…”
“Counting her hair?” Duncan was stunned, “What new problems have she added… Forget it. I’ll go check on her myself. You keep sailing the ship.”
After saying this, he didn’t wait for the other party to respond and turned for the ship’s deck, leaving behind the goat head, who appeared taken aback by the captain’s swift departure.
“I haven’t even had time to say more…” After holding back for a long time, the goat head mutters depressingly, “Did my ability to find a topic weaken…?”
As soon as his words came out, a crack swooned open from the captain’s bedroom, and out came Ai the dove. She’s swaggering around the mapping table like she owns it.
“Five bucks for a talk?” The bird tilts her head and blinks those red beady eyes.
“Okay, okay, I’ll take anyone who can chat with me!” The goat head happily agrees. He hasn’t had a decent conversation and was dying to talk. “What do you want to chat about? Can you speak normally? I keep getting the feeling…”
“Make some fries.”
“Huh?” The goat head couldn’t keep up, “No, I mean, do you have self awareness…”
“Make some fries.”
“…… If you’re going to talk about cooking at sea…”
“Make some fries.”
“Can you say anything else?”
“Make some fries.”
Goat head: “…”
Duncan did not pay attention to the silly noise behind in the room and promptly went down to the cabins below deck. Eventually, he found his way over to Alice’s room and knocked: “Alice, it’s me.”
A stammering voice soon came from the other side: “Ple-Please… Please come in…”
As soon as Duncan heard this, he subconsciously raised an eyebrow and pushed the door.
The doll in the gothic dress was sitting at the table next to the bed, her face directed at a mirror while being held up by her hands at the table. “Cap-Captain… goo-good evening…”
Duncan: “Put your head back on first before talking.”
“Oh, okay.”
