Chapter 143

Chapter 143

Expecting the Research Institute to build a submarine in just over a month was wildly unrealistic.

Fortunately, according to the System, returning to his old home didn't require a submarine.

[To reach Laleye, you can take the Deep Sea Society's ship.]

[Over the years, the Deep Sea Society has been suppressed to the point of suffocation, nearly vanishing from the public eye. But in the shadows, a group of devout believers has persisted.]

[These believers heed the call of the deep sea, convinced that one day, a new god will descend upon the world. Every year, on the midnight of December 13th, a ghost ship appears. It carries the most devout followers to Laleye.]

[The passengers on this ship are willing sacrifices offered to the deity. The believers trust that through death, they will merge with their god. When the great deity awakens, they too will become part of its dominion.]

Hearing this, Lu Yan couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "And the twenty-million-credit submarine I commissioned?"

The System hemmed and hawed. [You have more money than you can spend anyway. It'll come in handy later. For taking the little dog-dragon on undersea sightseeing trips, for instance.]

Lu Yan: "...Let me confirm one more time. I can't get pregnant, right?"

The System's voice dripped with affection. [Yes, you're absolutely right, my treasure. I couldn't bear the thought of you going through a pregnancy.]

Lu Yan moved on to his next question. "How do we get on the ship?"

[First, find a way to reach Polai Island. It's the closest landmass to Laleye. What I mean is, swim to some remote spot.]

Lu Yan opened the digital map sent by headquarters and searched for Polai Island's location.

Records showed it was an uninhabited island. The nearest city was 5,100 nautical miles away.

Using his clearance, Lu Yan pulled up related reports.

The ocean had always been a hotspot for the Pollution Disease. The farther from the mainland, the higher the contamination readings.

Yet the area around Polai Island registered remarkably low, as calm as the seas before the Cataclysm.

Lu Yan took a screenshot and sent it to Tang Xian'an. We're going here.

He added a message. "By the way, how are the swimming lessons coming along?"

Tang Xian'an's reply was prompt. "Adequate."

The man's standards for himself were punishingly high. 'Adequate' from him meant 'highly proficient.'

"Then let's go now," Lu Yan said.

There weren't many days left until the date the System had mentioned.

**

Three days later, the sea fog over Changjia had thinned considerably. The only issue was Ye Liangshan, who was eating far too much and vomiting every day after boarding the ship.

He looked sickly, sometimes retching up blood and bits of internal tissue, a sight that twisted Xie Haiqing's heart.

Through the wispy veil of mist, the outline of the Changjia coastline finally came into view.

For the first time in years, a ship from the outside world approached these shores.

Song Jingchen, First Believer of the Sea God Sect, now taught at the school nearest the coast.

With Changjia's civilization suffering a severe generational gap and a critical shortage of teachers, he pulled over a dozen shifts a day.

Today's subject was literature. Song Jingchen was reciting poetry, having just reached the line, "Beyond the Sword Pass, news came of retaking the north; first hearing it, tears soaked my clothes," when the school's broadcast system crackled to life.

The speakers, recently installed by survivors, usually only signaled the start and end of classes. This was the first time a human voice came through.

The speaker's voice sounded choked, as if something were lodged in his throat. He managed only three words. "The fog... it's gone."

For those living in Changjia, there was only one "fog"—the sea mist that had trapped them for countless years.

Song Jingchen was young, never having seen the outside world. The teacher in the next classroom, however, was in his sixties, a survivor from decades past. Hearing those words, his eyes instantly reddened.

The school erupted. Cries, cheers, a cacophony of sounds that, for no particular reason, made Song Jingchen think of the poem's next line.

Classes were over. The school gates swung open, students of all ages streaming toward the coastline. Song Jingchen found himself running with them.

Amid the shock and joy, a faint, private hope flickered in his heart.

He hoped he might see his "Teacher."

By the time he reached the shore, a crowd had already gathered. Journalists were on-site, documenting Changjia's current ecological state.

Ning Huai stood at the center, a cigarette dangling from his fingers as he briefed the officials who had rushed from A-City. The three eyes on his face were half-lidded, all traces of his former gentility gone, replaced by a rough-edged demeanor.

After verifying their credentials, Ning Huai asked casually, "I don't see Lu Yan. Where is he?"

The staff member looked momentarily confused. "He was here yesterday. Said he had urgent business and left."

"Left? What business is that urgent?"

The man scratched his head. "Said something about... visiting family back home?"

*

December in the southern hemisphere was summer.

Lu Yan had set off wearing long sleeves. After a few days, he switched to short sleeves, only to change back to long sleeves as they sailed further south.

They were aboard a research vessel that made an annual voyage to Antarctica, following the same route for decades.

Most crew members were foreign scientists. They knew two scholars from the First District had joined this year's expedition.

Everyone kept to themselves, maintaining a peaceful coexistence.

As the ship neared its destination, Lu Yan found himself sleeping less and less.

The nightmares had returned.

He couldn't recall their content, but the sensations—suffocating, icy dread—lingered at the edges of his nerves long after waking.

Since becoming an Awakener, he'd needed only three or four hours of sleep, sometimes going for extended periods without any.

But the recent onslaught of nightmares left him visibly drained.

Each time he jolted awake, he met Tang Xian'an's concerned gaze.

Tonight was no different. Lu Yan's mouth opened, but no sound emerged, as if a monster had seized his throat. It took a long moment for him to find his voice. "A nightmare. It's nothing."

His body temperature, always on the lower side, felt frigid now, even buried under multiple layers. His hands and feet were cold, his heartbeat sluggish.

Tang Xian'an took Lu Yan's hand, then gently folded his legs, pressing them against his own stomach like a living furnace. The steady, radiant heat did bring some comfort.

Fine fish scales had appeared along the side of Lu Yan's face. Unlike before, these wouldn't recede. Dehydrated, they curled slightly at the edges, likely not a pleasant sight.

In Tang Xian'an's eyes, Lu Yan saw only heartache.

The two hadn't left their cabin since boarding. Fortunately, the room was well-equipped, and meals were delivered daily.

Day six of the voyage.

Lu Yan's fourth finger joint abruptly extended, leaving several shallow cuts on Tang Xian'an's skin. The new growth was sharp as a blade.

Lu Yan tried to curl his hand into a fist, but Tang Xian'an gently pried his fingers open, enfolding the palm in his own.

"Don't cut yourself. It was an accident." He subtly activated his Dragon Bone talent.

Lu Yan didn't respond immediately. Instead, he called inwardly, "System."

[Here.] Lately, mirroring Lu Yan's shifting mood, even the System had grown quiet. [Spiritual Power Threshold: 10,445. Contamination Value: 93.7.]

Without him even noticing, his Spiritual Power Threshold had quietly breached ten thousand.

In stark contrast, his lesion rate had skyrocketed, doubling in just a few weeks to a dangerously critical level.

"Cause?" Lu Yan asked.

[Your brother is awakening. And he's beginning to influence you.]

Lu Yan fell silent for a long while, then suddenly asked, "Who am I?"

[That's a rather philosophical question. I'm afraid I can't answer it.]

Lu Yan didn't press further. He wrapped his arms around Tang Xian'an's neck, burying his face in the crook of his shoulder.

The scent was faintly minty. Tang Xian'an didn't smoke.

For a fleeting moment, Lu Yan nearly lost control, an impulse to sink his teeth into Tang Xian'an's throat surging through him.

In the end, he bit Tang Xian'an's lip instead.

"Want you," Lu Yan murmured, the words slurred.

It wasn't driven by strong desire, but a simple, deep-seated need. A need to merge.

Tang Xian'an stroked his back and waist, a soothing motion. "You can play with the tail. The walls are thin."

A draconic tail pushed aside the blankets, emerging from behind Tang Xian'an to curl nearby.

Tang Xian'an was generous with most things, largely because he didn't care. But with matters concerning Lu Yan, he became possessive, almost miserly.

Nestled in his embrace, clutching the warm tail, Lu Yan suddenly heard Tang Xian'an's low whisper above him. "Will you be better... after we go home?"

He wanted to ask more. Why did 'home,' for Lu Yan, mean Laleye? But under the circumstances, the answer didn't matter.

He just wanted Lu Yan to be alright.

Lu Yan didn't actually know if he would get better. But after a moment's thought, he gave a firm reply. "Yes."

*

Polai Island.

Late night, December 11th.

They had no navigation on the open sea, but with the System's guidance, getting lost wasn't an issue.

Polai Island was shaped like a slender thread, dominated by three tall mountains. Most of the island lay under ice and snow, with only patches of tundra at the foothills.

Howling waves crashed against sheer cliffs, the coastline dropping almost vertically into the sea.

[Head here. In the past, Lu Cheng brought the City Lord here. The carved pocket dimension should still be functional.]

An orange dot lit up in Lu Yan's mind.

The System's claim of 'functional' was an understatement. The temperature inside the pocket world was noticeably warmer than outside, as if encased in a transparent, protective shell.

Tang Xian'an used his dragon's breath to dry their clothes. A pointless gesture, given they'd be soaked again soon, but at least wearing them would be more comfortable.

At three in the morning, a strange sound carried from the shore.

Lu Yan narrowed his eyes, focusing on the source.

One after another, fish-men struggled up from the ocean depths, leaping and landing heavily on the rocky beach. They writhed, dragging themselves into pre-dug burrows.

Their limbs retained human characteristics, some still wearing tattered clothing, but their faces were grotesquely transformed. Bulging eyes, gills, fins where ears should be. Translucent yellow mucus seeped from their auditory canals.

They seemed to have forgotten how to walk. They crawled, bodies undulating like giant worms.

Lu Yan knew these monsters. The aberrations in K-City had looked much the same. The "meat-fish" from the Mermaid Club later had sported identical features.

[These believers set out every August from various points. Months of migration, swimming the entire way here. Like salmon returning to spawn.]

[Many die along the journey, eaten by fish. Those Deep Sea Society followers who make landfall have completed their aberration. Or their evolution. Their brains undergo irreversible changes. They retain thought, even a unique language, but lose the capacity to recognize their own condition as abnormal.]

[Yet even in this state, they are not pollutants.]

[After all, pollutants don't taste good.]

Lu Yan listened intently.

Tang Xian'an's brow furrowed deeply. "These aberrations... how has no one discovered them?"

The ocean was vast, and these humans transformed midway. Anyone encountering them would likely dismiss them as marine pollutants and eliminate them on sight.

Over the next few days, more fish-men crawled ashore.

The desolate coastline soon teemed with the squirming, packed bodies. They gathered in heaps, emitting strange, guttural cries.

Occasionally, fights erupted among the ugly throng. The loser was gutted on the spot, becoming that day's "meat-fish."

The early hours of the 13th. All the fish-men assembled, lifting their malformed faces to the moon and unleashing a chorus of piercing, mournful wails. The sound was a horn, a signal calling them home.

From the distant horizon, a rust-stained cruise ship glided into view.

No crew was visible on deck. Paint peeled from the hull. Seaweed tangled around the stilled propeller. The engines, upon closer inspection, were dead.

Yet the ship drifted to the shore. A cargo hold door groaned open on its own.

The fish-men scrambled aboard, excited, rasping shrieks tearing from their throats. Those lacking the spring in their mutated legs used frog-like limbs to claw their way up the ship's side.

The vessel looked familiar.

Back at Cromer Manor, behind a painting, Lu Yan had found a photograph.

In it, Lu Cheng stood with two others before a ship, grinning broadly. Only a corner of the vessel was visible.

But comparing the hull patterns in his mind, Lu Yan was certain. This was the same freighter. At the very least, an identical model.

After the master of Cromer Manor died, the merchant's maritime trade company collapsed, its assets sold and rebranded. The freighter changed hands, its livery painted over.

Lu Yan had every reason to suspect this was the very ship Lu Cheng had taken over two decades ago.

The System's voice cut in. [Find a way around to the other side and board. Try not to alert anyone inside. This is the only route in the world that goes to Laleye.]

[Getting kicked off would be... inconvenient.]