I'm Trapped in the Block

The captain of the transport ship was all smiles, and it didn’t take him long to get friendly with Captain He.

"You said you’re from Oasis City? Is this your maiden voyage?"

Captain He nodded. "That’s right. The sea entry point is right around here, and the route is very safe. We didn’t even encounter any large marine creatures."

The captain was quite surprised. "So, you’re saying this area will open up in the future? It might even become a regular port?"

"Exactly."

Hearing Captain He’s confirmation, the captain grew pensive, seemingly already calculating future prospects. "This area is about to get lively."

Their conversation was just a brief interlude.

Captain He was very surprised to see Li Luo preparing to switch ships.

"Are you heading toward the end of the route?"

"Yes, I’m going to the fourth floor," Li Luo nodded.

"Be careful on the third floor. It’s not land, after all. You have to be cautious about everything. Don’t be afraid to ask for help; the people who make it this far are a tight-knit bunch," Captain He advised caringly.

Li Luo earnestly agreed.

She was no longer as withdrawn as she had been when she first entered the Abyss.

After bidding farewell to Captain He, Li Luo headed for the transport ship.

Snippets of conversation drifted from behind her:

"Help look after her. She’s a young one from Oasis City, her first time down on the third floor."

"No problem..."

This kindness continued to be passed along.

Surprisingly, Li Luo was the only one switching ships. The captain even found a small room for her outside the cargo hold.

"We’ll be at Fishman Island in about half a day. If you get bored, feel free to wander around the ship. If you need anything, come find me, or just ask anyone on board."

"Okay."

And so, the transport ship slowly began to move forward.

The peculiar sand ship grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

Soon, only a vast, endless sea remained in view.

This transport ship wasn’t large, and it carried very little cargo—mostly old, everyday items.

There was an especially large amount of things like clothes, food seasonings, cooking utensils, and lighters. The variety was wide, as if someone were moving house, all stuffed into simple boxes with very basic packing.

Different types of items were even packed together. It was done so carelessly it didn’t look like cargo meant for trade at all.

’It’s like they’re throwing out a bunch of used junk,’ Mo Ling couldn’t help but think, looking at all the clutter.

Resources were extremely scarce in the Abyss; everything had to be used sparingly.

But it was impossible to keep everything forever. Things were bound to be replaced. This cargo was likely just a collection of discarded items.

Mo Ling even spotted a handleless kitchen knife among the odds and ends. The blade was incredibly dull, and there were even rust spots on its surface.

’Can this really be considered cargo?’ Mo Ling wondered.

Fortunately, though it looked like a pile of junk, the cargo was all very clean, as if it had been carefully wiped down.

The cargo hold was packed full of these second-hand goods. Tall stacks of them swayed back and forth as the transport ship sailed.

Surprisingly, the shoddy packing job held up. The piles just looked a bit precarious.

...

Time on the ship passed quickly. Amid the rocking and swaying, the transport ship began to slow down.

’Are we there yet?’ Mo Ling quickly looked out from the ship.

The transport ship was still at sea, but its speed was steadily decreasing.

’What’s going on? Why did we suddenly slow down?’

Just as Mo Ling was wondering, the transport ship plunged headfirst into a thick bank of fog.

The cargo hold instantly grew dark.

Then, the thick fog began to seep into the ship’s interior.

’The sky was clear just a moment ago. How did such a thick fog suddenly roll in?’

The fog was so dense it was almost black, filled with a strange, damp, rotting smell. As it flooded the hold, murky water droplets condensed on the cargo.

The relatively clean piles of cargo were suddenly "filthy," looking extremely old.

The hazy fog caused visibility to drop rapidly. In the blink of an eye, the transport ship was enveloped by the fog bank.

’Did we slow down because of the fog?’ Mo Ling guessed.

’It must be a safety precaution.’

A flashing red light in the hold looked particularly eerie in the fog. Its glow diffused into a blurry orb, like the eye of some creature.

The lights in the ship’s corridors also seemed affected by the dampness, flickering off and on.

Beads of moisture quickly coated the walls, trickling down rust stains and making the already weathered transport ship appear even more dilapidated.

As visibility dropped, her other senses became unusually sharp.

A CREAKING, grinding sound of metal came from the bottom of the hold.

There was also the faint clatter of cargo shifting, the clinking of kitchenware echoing through the small hold.

The damp air made the stench of decay and neglect even more pronounced.

Mo Ling felt she could even smell the distinct, stale odors coming from the cargo:

The faint smell of cooking fumes on the utensils.

The sour smell of human sweat on the clothes.

The bizarre, fermented funk of expired spices.

...

This blackening fog seemed to possess a strange magic, capable of aging objects and hastening their decay.

The stale, acrid stench in the air grew stronger, and the transport ship’s speed continued to drop, as if it were stuck in sludge.

Li Luo also sensed something was wrong and went up to the deck with Block.

The thick fog had indeed enveloped the entire ship. The deck was extremely slick, covered in beads of water that were accumulating rapidly.

The ship’s searchlight cut through the fog, stabbing into the distance before its beam vanished on the sea’s surface just a short way off.

Her vision was limited, so Mo Ling couldn’t see what was ahead. She could only feel the ship’s speed decreasing until it was nearly at a standstill, merely drifting forward on its own momentum.

In the dim surroundings, the sound of crew members talking on deck was unusually clear.

"We’ll have to clean the whole ship again when we get back. Such a pain. I’m so sick of working on this boat."

"You’d have to clean on any other ship, too. Ours is just a bit more of a hassle. But the trip is short, it’s safe, and the pay is high. What other ship is this good? You should be grateful."

"Sigh, I’m just venting. What’s the deal with Fishman Island, anyway? This fog has been getting worse lately. Think it has something to do with that traditional festival they have on the island?"

"How should I know? Go ask the Fishmen, or those weirdos on the island. They might know."

"No way I’m going. I can barely breathe if I stay on the island for too long. Don’t you think it stinks? The whole place smells like dead fish, and the Fishmen reek of it too."

"Of course I can’t stand it either, but you just have to put up with it. The Fishman Race is pretty friendly, all things considered. So what if it stinks? For all we know, they think it smells great."

"Sigh, maybe... Let’s just get this trip over with and head back home..."

"Quit complaining. It’s time to drop anchor. Get to it."

Their conversation came to an abrupt halt.

It was immediately followed by the CLANG CLANG CLANG of the anchor chain.

The transport ship had just reached the shore, where dim lights began to flicker on.