Life and Death Cycle

The Dusk Bell, marking the alternation of day and night, and the steam whistle's cry pierced through the deep, damp slopes and shafts, echoing faintly in the dark, cramped sewers. The approaching nightfall only deepened the despair of the cultists hiding in the abandoned lounge.

One of them was gravely ill, afflicted by an unknown sickness, and now he was dying—dying in this dimly lit underground world.

"He's still alive now..." one cultist hesitated, glancing at his "compatriot" lying on the ground. The man's eyes were half-open, his eyeballs slowly rolling in their sockets. The unfortunate fellow could still hear the sounds around him, but he no longer had the strength to open his eyes.

"He's only alive for now," another cultist said in a low voice. "The Dusk Bell has already rung. He cannot die in this room—the Lord's protection will grant him peaceful slumber in the darkness."

The man on the makeshift bed twitched his fingers twice. He clearly understood his predicament and didn't want to die like this. But death had already firmly gripped his shadow, and as things stood, his dear "Sun fellows" were already considering removing this "liability" from their sanctuary before true death arrived.

An oppressive silence enveloped the room, making the dying man's faint breaths audible. After an unknown period of silence, a black-robed figure who had been cursing the Storm Church suddenly broke it: "Let's wait a little longer. At least... people don't change immediately after they draw their last breath."

"...Then let's wait," the low-voiced black-robed cultist conceded. He glanced at the man struggling to breathe and couldn't help but mutter, "But why did he suddenly fall ill? Are you sure this is just a normal illness?"

"I know him... He used to run a failing antique shop in the lower city, the kind filled with fakes," a cultist who hadn't spoken much spoke up. "He was always sick; his health was never good. Perhaps staying in the sewers for too long and being startled recently caused his condition to worsen."

Listening to the explanation from the side, the low-voiced black-robed cultist finally relaxed a bit. Although he wasn't a high-ranking "priest," he had followed the Sun for many years and was now somewhat of an "expert" with considerable knowledge of mysticism. He knew well how many long-term and hidden dangers could linger after a failed sacrifice ritual, and every believer who participated in that ritual could become a "carrier" of these hidden dangers. This person who had suddenly fallen into extreme weakness... could be such a "carrier."

If it weren't for the constraint of "Sun's children are all brothers and sisters," and the fact that a few hesitant cultists were watching, he would have already thrown this unlucky fellow out into the vast darkness outside.

After a long silence, the black-robed cultist suddenly made a move. He took out a pale golden amulet from his embrace and placed it into the chest of the dying "compatriot."

"What is this..." a cultist beside him asked curiously.

"I exchanged this sacred amulet from the Emissary at a great cost," he said in a low, sincere tone. "May the Lord's grace protect our brethren. Perhaps the Sun's radiance can shield him from further erosion in the darkness."

The two cultists beside him immediately had no doubts and looked at the church elder who had "given away" the amulet with admiration. They clenched their fists to their brows and softly chanted piously: "Sun's children are all brothers and sisters..."

The low-voiced black-robed figure also clenched his fist to his brow and followed suit, chanting softly: "Sun's children are all brothers and sisters."

After the Sun had completely set below the horizon, the starless, moonless sky reappeared before Duncan. Pale cracks stretched across the heavens, illuminating the Boundless Sea and the Lost Homeland sailing upon it with a cool radiance.

Duncan stood near the stern deck, withdrawing his gaze from the sky and sighing softly.

No matter how many times he looked, he couldn't see the non-existent stars in that pale, cool radiance.

But compared to the last time he saw this Starless Night, his mood was much better.

On one hand, he had accepted the world's various strange aspects and was actively adapting to his current life. On the other hand, the fish today was indeed good.

He was a very optimistic person, and any small improvement in life was worth celebrating—especially since nature's bounty was more than he had expected.

If things continued at this pace, even if he couldn't establish stable contact with the mainland in the short term, he could at least improve the living conditions on the ship.

Lost in thought, he turned to look at the pigeon standing on his shoulder and said casually, with a hint of jest, "You know... would it be simpler if I did something a pirate captain should do? Like finding a busy shipping lane to raid or something..."

The pigeon tilted its head, its eyes seemingly looking in different directions: "Is that proper? Is that proper? Is that proper..."

"Yeah, that doesn't fit my personality," Duncan chuckled. "And it's easier said than done. To raid, you at least need to find shipping lanes with merchant ship activity."

This vast sea was empty. The Lost Homeland had drifted so far from civilized society that he hadn't seen another ship in sight since the collision with the ship transporting Anomaly 099 last time—he didn't even know where to find victims to rob.

But just then, a voice suddenly came from beside him, interrupting Duncan's thoughts: "Captain, are we going to raid?"

Duncan followed the sound and saw Alice sitting on a high wooden plank nearby, looking at him curiously.

Under the glow of the pale scar in the sky, the gothic doll, dressed in a court gown, sat high on the ghost ship, her mercury-like long hair gleaming with a cool luster in the night. She sat gracefully, her eyes filled with curiosity—this scene was like a classical and mysterious painting.

Duncan was a little surprised. After experiencing several chaotic "real-life matters," he had almost forgotten the elegant, mysterious impression the doll had given him when she was first lying in the wooden crate. Seeing Alice in her quiet state now, he was somewhat taken aback.

Alice, unaware of the captain's thoughts, simply asked again curiously, "Captain, are we going to raid?"

This question somewhat ruined her image.

Duncan looked at the doll with a wry smile. "Do you like raiding?"

"No," Alice shook her head. "It sounds rather boring."

"But you were 'raided' onto the ship by me," Duncan reminded her with a smile.

"...That's true," Alice thought for a moment and nodded. Then she asked again, "So, are we going to raid now?"

"No," Duncan waved his hand and calmly walked towards his captain's cabin. "I also think raiding is quite boring—compared to that, a walk is more suitable as an after-dinner exercise."

Duncan returned to the captain's cabin. After briefly instructing Goat Head to take the helm, he entered his bedroom as before and closed the door.

He had decided to conduct his second Spirit World Walk tonight.

But unlike last time, this time he intended to test this ability through the pigeon, "Ai Yi."

A cluster of faint green sparks flickered on Duncan's fingertips. The moment the flames leaped, the pigeon, which had been strolling on the table, vanished in the blink of an eye and reappeared on his shoulder.

Feeling the faint connection between Ai Yi and himself, Duncan slowly calmed down. He then recalled the "feeling" he had when he last activated the brass compass and began to try communicating with Ai Yi using the Spirit Body Fire in his hand—

The invisible green flames transformed into a thin line, wrapping around Ai Yi's wings. The next second, the white pigeon was suddenly engulfed in flames!

As the flames burned, the pigeon's feathers all turned illusory. The rising green fire seemed to reshape its flesh and bones. Ai Yi spread its wings in the flames, and the brass compass hanging on its chest "clicked" open—the dial, adorned with many mystical runes, glowed faintly, and the pointer in the center, after spinning wildly, pointed straight into the distance.

The surrounding scenery disintegrated. The familiar dark space appeared in Duncan's eyes, followed by those familiar streams of light and countless specks of "firelight."

Duncan followed the feeling in his heart and looked at those starlights, searching for the next suitable "target" to connect with.

Suddenly, he was drawn to one cluster of starlight.

He didn't know if this was what Goat Head always called "Captain Duncan's intuition," but he decided to follow this feeling. No matter who was behind that starlight, he now had a connection with Captain Duncan.

In the abandoned sewers on the outskirts of the Pland City-State, the few Sun God cultists who had narrowly escaped the Church's guards remained silent.

The world above had fallen into deep night, while down here, only a faint light from a single lamp offered refuge in the abandoned room.

Even the most brutal and inhuman cultists felt a growing sense of dread and terror in the encroaching darkness.

On the tattered bedding beside them, the dying man was about to exhale his last breath.

Listening to the increasingly shallow and difficult breaths, several pairs of eyes turned in unison towards the dying man.

They stared intently at their "compatriot" on the bedding, each one knowing full well that this man would not survive the night.

Under the gaze of several pairs of eyes, the man on the bedding took one last breath, his chest rising and falling—he exhaled the last breath of his life.

"May the Sun continue to shine upon your soul in the darkness," a cultist in a black robe said slowly from the side, his voice low. He then gestured with his hand, "Take him..."

The next second, his words were choked off.

Before his eyes, the corpse, which had been lying with its eyes closed, began to breathe again.

(Time for a book recommendation! This time the title is "My Anime King Story Is Definitely Not Wrong," from a fellow reader's work. You can probably guess the content from the title, right? I'll just paste the synopsis directly:

Xia Yu was an ordinary otaku who, with the ACG Encyclopedia System, transmigrated to a parallel world with a very barren ACG culture. He was determined to spread ACG culture throughout the world and plant the banner of the two-dimensional world across the globe.

Starting with "Pokémon," he began to make a name for himself. Afterward, Touhou, magical girls, Kantai Collection, Love Live!, Vocaloid, Gundam—all sorts of beliefs began to emerge.

A new era had arrived.)