Dusk Island

The morning sea was carpeted in fragmented gold, sunlight filtering through thin clouds and churned into flickering patches of light by the gentle waves.

This maritime entertainment ship had been completely taken over by Yue Shi, and all the irrelevant clutter had been cleared out.

The Ghost had hacked into the ship’s control system, though he didn’t actually need to do much; the power provided by the ocean currents would push the vessel forward.

At this moment, Yue Shi sat on the railing at the stern, fishing. One leg dangled in the air while the other was bent, foot resting on the railing, and he held the snow leopard in his arms.

The snow leopard half-squinted its eyes, its tail occasionally sweeping across Yue Shi’s wrist as a purring sound rolled in its throat.

Yue Shi held a fishing rod in his hand—not the miraculous fishing rod that could fish across the myriad realms, but just an ordinary one.

But where the fishing line dipped into the water, the sea shimmered with an unusual, ethereal blue fluorescence.

The Ghost drifted back and forth nearby. His X addiction seemed to have been cured; he never mentioned playing with the mechanical member again.

“That snow leopard... what exactly is it?” the Ghost asked, glancing sideways at Yue Shi.

A while back, because of the matter regarding the mechanical bionic body, the Ghost’s attention had been entirely focused on the fact that he had regained human touch. He didn’t know when this snow leopard had appeared by Yue Shi’s side, desperately vying for favor.

The snow leopard didn’t even need to do anything to receive Yue Shi’s boundless tolerance and affection.

Something was wrong.

Yue Shi wasn’t the type to like fluffy little animals, so this snow leopard definitely held a great secret.

Yue Shi did not answer the Ghost’s question.

The bobber sank.

Yue Shi flicked his wrist, the line went taut, and the rod bent into a beautiful arc.

He reeled in the line with one hand, his movements lazy, as if he were walking an obedient dog.

Water sprayed as a strange object was dragged out of the sea.

The thing was pitch black, resembling the remains of some deep-sea fish, yet it possessed three rows of asymmetrical bone spurs. Several strands of translucent, still-wriggling filaments hung from its tail.

Most bizarre was its head—if it could even be called that—which featured a flat face about seventy percent similar to a human’s. Where the eyes should have been were two perfectly round, deathly white beads.

Yue Shi studied it for two seconds.

“Truly ugly.”

With a casual flick, the thing traced an arc through the air and fell back into the sea with a small splash.

“You caught it just to look at it?” the Ghost’s mouth twitched.

“What else? It’s not edible.”

“Do you know what that thing you just caught was?” the Ghost asked him.

Yue Shi turned his head and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t, but you should. Didn’t you spend yesterday cramming your knowledge of common marine life illustrations?”

A string of data flashed through the Ghost’s information body. “The spot where you just cast your hook is about seventy meters deep. The bottom currents in that area come from the southeast and passed through the ruins of an ancient naval battle three days ago.”

“That thing you caught is scientifically known as a Drowned Bone Eel. It’s a mutant formed by the symbiosis of shipwreck remains and specific deep-sea fungal colonies. A neurotoxin can be extracted from its bone spurs; once diluted, it’s a top-tier anesthetic.”

“The eyeballs can be ground into powder to track descendants of specific bloodlines. Certain voodoo cults on the South Continent treat them like treasures—a single bone spur can be traded for ten slaves.”

Yue Shi blinked.

“And?”

The Ghost stared at him, his tone eerie, as if looking at an idiot who had thrown away a diamond as if it were a glass bead.

“Nothing. Keep throwing them back. There are plenty of treasures in this sea anyway; enough for you to throw for a while.”

Yue Shi’s lips curved slightly, but he didn’t speak.

The snow leopard rolled over in his arms, finding a more comfortable position.

The bobber moved again.

This time, Yue Shi reeled in the line half a beat faster than before.

The object that emerged was small, about the size of a palm and entirely transparent. Countless golden veins as thin as hair were faintly visible inside, wriggling slowly.

The Ghost glanced over. “This one’s not bad—a Light-Weaver Jellyfish, very rare. If you keep it in a dark room, those golden threads inside will continuously glow with a brightness equivalent to a candle.”

“And look at that cluster in its abdomen—that’s its egg sac. The offspring that hatch will inherit the mother’s bioluminescent properties. One becomes ten, ten become a hundred.”

Yue Shi looked at the jellyfish, thoughtful.

“You want to keep it?”

“We can go catch jellyfish together,” the Ghost teased.

Yue Shi didn’t say anything more. With a flick of his wrist, he gently tossed the cluster of transparent Light-Weaver Jellyfish into a nearby glass jar filled with seawater.

It was a collection container prepared in advance.

The Ghost leaned in to look, feeling that the jellyfish was already on the verge of death.

Sunlight spilled across the deck, the sea breeze carrying a faint saltiness. In the distance, several seabirds skimmed across the crests of the waves.

Yue Shi cast his line again.

The line traced an arc and fell into that patch of ethereal blue sea.

The Ghost stared at the bobber and suddenly said, “When you said ‘it’s not edible’ just now, were you serious?”

“Of course,” Yue Shi replied.

“You could clearly catch the most delicious things in the sea directly, yet you don’t. You act as if you’re here on vacation,” the Ghost said.

“I am here on vacation.”

“Then why did you hijack this ship?”

Yue Shi turned to look at him, a hint of sincere confusion in his eyes. “Is hijacking a ship and being on vacation mutually exclusive?”

The Ghost opened his mouth, only to find himself speechless.

The snow leopard yawned at the right moment, revealing the tip of its pink tongue as if mocking him.

“Fine.” The Ghost resigned himself and turned back. “As long as you’re happy.”

The silence lasted for a while.

Then Yue Shi’s bobber moved again.

This time, the tension on the line was noticeably different. Yue Shi’s brow twitched slightly, and he added a bit more strength to his wrist.

The Ghost looked over and saw that Yue Shi’s right leg was now planted firmly on the railing, his back leaning slightly away. He had clearly hooked something with some weight.

“A big one?” he asked.

“Possibly.”

The fishing line pulled into a dangerous diagonal in the air, the rod tip bending almost into a full bow. Yue Shi’s reeling was no longer lazy; he pulled with a surge of force.

Water exploded.

A massive dark red object burst through the waves, tracing an arc in the air before landing on the deck with a thud.

The thing was about two meters long and as thick as a bucket, its surface covered in layers of blood-colored scales. One end was rounded and blunt, while the other narrowed until it formed a sharp, bone-like long horn.

The Ghost leaned in to inspect it.

“What is this?”

Yue Shi crouched down, his fingertips touching the surface of the object.

It was cold and deathly still, with only a faint, lingering trace of life.

“It’s a horn,” Yue Shi said.

“A horn of what?” the Ghost was stunned.

Yue Shi’s fingers moved slowly across the object’s surface, finally stopping at the base of the bone-like long horn.

There was a mark where it had been severed.

The cut was smooth and flat, as if it had been cleaved in two by an extremely sharp blade.

He looked up toward the horizon.

In the distance, at the edge of the mist, a faint, blurry outline was visible.

It was an island.

A faint light was radiating from the island.

...

“We’re coming into port! We’re coming into port!”

Someone was shouting at the top of their lungs on the pier.

The port on the eastern side of Dusk Island wasn't large, with only three piers in total, where seven or eight small to medium-sized fishing boats were moored.

It was currently afternoon. The boats that had gone out to sea were returning one after another. The piers were crowded with people, and the fish in the baskets reflected the silvery-bright light.

But that shout wasn't for their own fishing boats.

At the end of the pier, several dockworkers straightened up and shielded their eyes with their hands, looking out at the sea.

A ship was slowly approaching.

The vessel was massive, with sleek lines and a paint job that shimmered in the sunlight.

But the most eye-catching thing wasn't its size; it was the vivid colorful paintings on the hull.

Waves, clouds, and graceful humanoid figures.

A young dockworker squinted. “Whoa, is that ship here for supplies?”

“What supplies? There are no merchant ships on this route.” An older dockworker nearby spat. “It’s probably a cruise ship, just wandering over for no reason.”

“A cruise ship coming all the way out here?” the young dockworker didn't believe it. “What is there to see on our crummy island?”

“You don’t know jack.” The older man spat on the ground. “Those rich people just love seeing ‘original ecology’ like ours.”

The ship drew closer.

The people on the pier gradually stopped their work and looked up.

The ship docked very steadily, as if handled by an experienced old helmsman. The mooring lines were tossed down, caught by someone, and tied to the iron bollards on the pier.

And then.

Nothing happened.

The gangway wasn't lowered.

The hatches didn't open.

The deck was empty; there wasn't even a sailor sticking their head out to look.

“Where is everyone?” the young dockworker craned his neck.

The older man was also stunned, scratching his head. “Is this... are they waiting for people to come down and unload?”

They waited for about fifteen minutes.

The ship remained silent; not a single soul appeared.

The dockworkers looked at each other. Someone summoned their courage and shouted, “Hey! Is anyone on the ship?”

There was no response.

Only the sound of waves lapping against the hull.

...

Yue Shi was already standing on the island’s streets.

Seen from afar on the sea, this island had emitted bursts of light.

Now that he had actually entered, he couldn't tell exactly where the light was coming from.

He carried the snow leopard, with the Ghost attached to his phone, constantly gathering all sorts of information.

The streets weren't wide. The buildings on both sides were crowded together, mostly square or circular buildings of varying heights. The outer walls were made of dusty gray stone, with time having left mottled traces on them.

But strangely, those ancient stone walls were fitted with a large number of mechanical components that clearly belonged to the modern era.

There were copper pipes, riveted metal plates, and occasionally a string of colorful lights hanging from a window.

Simplicity and industry were forcibly kneaded together in a heavy-handed way.

Yue Shi continued forward.

At the end of the street, the view suddenly opened up.

It was a massive plaza.

In the center of the plaza stood several high towers.

These towers were pedestals for enshrining god statues.

Those statues were massive and emitted a soft, warm glow.

The statues were varied in form; some had many arms, some had human faces and fish bodies, and some were just plain bizarre.

The statues shared one commonality: each was placed on a gold-plated platform. Beneath the platforms were towers open on all four sides.

Those high towers were built from a fusion of metal and stone, and none of them existed in isolation.

They were linked to one another by archway-like passages, surrounding the building at the very center.

It was a temple.

The temple was half a level taller than all the surrounding buildings. It was entirely white and looked exceptionally holy in the afternoon sun.

The temple’s design was ancient, with simple lines, looking like a relic left behind by a long-extinct civilization.

Yue Shi watched silently for a moment.

The snow leopard in his arms raised its head, its nostrils twitching slightly as if it had caught a scent.

“This place is strange,” the Ghost’s voice was very soft.

Yue Shi nodded and walked toward a small stall selling grilled fish at the edge of the plaza.

The stall owner was a thin, middle-aged man with the rough redness of a face constantly exposed to the sea breeze. He was looking down, flipping skewers of fish on a metal rack.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up. His eyes met Yue Shi’s, and he couldn't help but freeze for a moment.

The daze was brief, immediately replaced by a professional fake smile.

“Outlander, want a few skewers? Fresh catch, just out of the sea.”

Yue Shi looked down at the fish on the rack. “What is the name of this island?”

The owner’s movements paused. He clearly hadn't expected this person to ask that right off the bat.

“Dusk Island,” he said, his tone carrying the typical flat delivery of a local introducing their home.

Yue Shi didn't buy any grilled fish and continued walking. The Ghost whispered, “Dusk Island? That name...”

“What did you think of?” Yue Shi asked him.

“Twilight of the Gods.”

The snow leopard flicked its tail. A breeze blew across the plaza, carrying the scent of grilled fish and a faint humming sound coming from inside those towers.

In the distance, several locals were looking up toward the port, seemingly wondering why no one had come off that massive cruise ship yet.

They had no idea that the guest from the ship had just walked right past them.

Yue Shi wandered all over Dusk Island.

The island was large, comparable to a major city on the Jinlong Continent.

He deliberately lowered his presence. Turning a corner, he found a noisy scene ahead.

There were rowdy voices and wails of grief, along with the buzzing discussions of onlookers.

Yue Shi stopped.

Ahead was a building that looked like a church, though it was unclear what god it served.

A circle of people was gathered at the church entrance.

In the center of the crowd was an old couple.

The old woman’s hair was completely white and messily scattered. She was prostrate on the ground, her hands slapping the stone steps, letting out a wail with every slap.

The old man sat beside her, his back hunched, face deeply wrinkled, and lips trembling.

“My child...”

“He was a perfectly fine person. He was fine when he left this morning. How could he just be gone!”

“They said the scaffolding broke. Falling from that height, my child was killed!”

“They won’t even let me see the body!”

The old woman’s hands slapped the stone steps, making dull thudding sounds.

Among the onlookers, some sighed, some shook their heads, and some whispered something to each other.

But no one stepped forward to help her up, nor did anyone join in the crying.

Yue Shi stood on the outer edge of the crowd, his gaze passing over the back of their heads to land on the old couple.

The snow leopard in his arms moved, its ears pricked forward.

After a short while, Yue Shi had a general idea of what had happened.

The old couple’s child was a painter. While hired to paint the church, he had unfortunately fallen from the scaffolding and died.

This should have been just an ordinary accident.

But the strange thing was that the church had unilaterally and swiftly disposed of the body, only notifying the family after it was done, preventing the old couple from seeing their child one last time.