Krafft's Anomaly Notes

Chapter 418 Bottom of the Ship
"Wendeng Port? We're not even sure if we can get to Wendeng Port." The old sailor grabbed the troublemaking newcomer, threw him into a corner of the cabin, and tied his arms behind his back to a pillar with a rope.

The sailors who were watching the spectacle with glee watched as the fight broke out and they learned the whole story from the shouts and curses.

He's another brainless guy who goes against the captain at every crucial moment. You could say he's lucky to have taken a few punches. If it were a hot-tempered, uncompromising captain, he would usually be thrown overboard to feed the fish.

The lights flickered, and the sounds of cursing and beating continued, only to quickly cease.

Everyone, including those who participated and those who observed, noticed that this time was different from usual.

There were no cries of pain or pleas for mercy, nor any resistance. It was as if a goat had been bled dry, its internal support removed, leaving only an empty shell.

For a moment, they all thought that guy was dead.

Clearly not. His chest was still heaving, his heavy breathing escaping, white mist rising before his blood-stained and bruised face.

Those eyes, with their constricted pupils, remained fixed on the left bulkhead.

Those who were looking directly at each other instinctively looked away, glancing behind them, only to find nothing there.

He just stared at it, incredibly focused, as if that one action alone had exhausted his energy, leaving him no time to pay attention to anything else.

"Playing tricks!" The crew member who dragged the man down slapped him, but the head that had been turned away immediately turned back, in the exact same direction as before.

They covered the eyes with strips of cloth they had torn off at random, said "We'll deal with you later," and quickly climbed out of the hatch, preferring to face the wind and snow on the deck rather than stay any longer.

The cabin quieted down, but the atmosphere was no longer one of watching a spectacle.

Even the most oblivious person sensed something was off and began to wonder if this guy was just putting on a convincing act or if something was really wrong.

The rope was tied very tightly, around the wrists and elbows, and twisted around the shoulders, fixing the body firmly to the pillar, unable to move.

Logically speaking, this is a very uncomfortable posture, but his neck doesn't seem to feel any soreness or fatigue, maintaining a slanted angle, as if he was suddenly attracted by a target, turned his head, and then froze at that moment.

Occasionally, there will be some bumps and undulations, causing the body to lean forward or backward, but this will not cause any deliberate movements. Once things have calmed down, the gaze will slide back to the original spot due to inertia, staring at a certain place through the strips of cloth and wooden boards.

There is no evidence, but one would instinctively feel that the focus is not inside the cabin, but on the sea and the waves just beyond the wall.

Someone tried waving in front of his eyes, but received no response. It wasn't that he ignored it, but rather that his perception wasn't there; his vision was merely attaching itself to it.

Without shouting or babbling, I was quietly drawn in.

The people closest to them quietly moved their bunks away a bit. A madman outside the realm of common sense is often worse than a noisy madman.

They tried not to think about what they were looking at, but something had already taken root in their minds and wouldn't go away.

Even with my eyes closed, I can still hear the sound of my cervical spine turning between the waves, shattering the sleepiness I've finally managed to build up—my stiff, congested neck drives my bones, chasing an unseen target.

Someone whispered a suggestion: once the waves calmed down a bit, they should persuade the captain to lock the people in the cargo hold separately, so that everyone could sleep peacefully.

The proposal was met with widespread approval.

The cabin fell silent again, with the sounds of people turning over and tossing and turning, but no more snoring.

They were still observing the other side from time to time, and what was somewhat reassuring was that even a madman could not defy the limits of his body.

Perhaps the neck muscles could no longer bear the weight of the head, and the gaze that had been level with the distance gradually lowered and sank.

First, her jaw tightened slightly, then her forehead tilted forward slowly, the movement so small that it was almost imperceptible.

Only those who are staring intently can clearly see that his face is gradually lowering, as if he is about to fall asleep.

The crew member who wanted to confirm leaned forward and untied the cloth strip, but was suddenly startled and took a few steps back, pointing at those eyes.

Their eyes remained wide open, their pupils contracting as if bathed in bright light. He stopped as his chin approached his chest, not from fatigue or drowsiness, but rather as if his gaze had caught something.

My eardrums suddenly jolted.

It's like when you stick your head into a half-full barrel of wine, something suddenly hits the side of the barrel.

A low, dull, heavy vibration, enveloped in liquid, traveled along the wood and resonated in the air. The contact was brief, but the tinnitus lasted for two breaths.

When they came to their senses, they belatedly realized that the tremors were coming from beneath the ship.

"The waves have formed a base."

Perhaps due to the instability of the water layer, the cavities created by the waves can occasionally cause knocking-like vibrations, which is indeed rare, but not inexplicable.

The affirmative tone convinced myself, and it also convinced most people.

Another muffled sound.

This time the location was more precise, and the slight groaning of the wooden planks could be heard.

"It seems the sea conditions are bad?" Someone listened to the wind and felt the rhythm of the waves. The frequency and direction of the waves remained unchanged, and there was no sign of turbulence.

"Probably."

The cabin was eerily quiet; they were waiting, waiting for each next second.

The silence was so long that almost everyone thought the voice had let the ship go.

The third muffled thud clearly came from the bottom of the ship.

It wasn't like a slapping motion, but more like... brushing against, sliding along the hull of the boat.

"Running aground? Ice floe?"

No one echoed anymore. The impact of rock against ice was hard, an abrupt pause, occurring from the side or front, accompanied by the crisp sound of cracking planks.

This sound was clearly not like that; it had a brief but precise buffer, possessing an indescribable "resilience," holding the bottom of the boat aloft for a moment before breaking away.

Ice floes and reefs will move away after being scraped and bumped, but it didn't.

It was still there, below the waterline, sliding along the keel again and again, like a wave suddenly becoming something tangible, slowly bulging up under the ship, causing that dull tremor.

"The ship has changed course."

Someone pointed it out. They heard the iron shafts transmitting power through the ship's hull turn, then vanished in a flash.

After two undulations, there was another round of friction and rotation. The rudder deflected underwater, causing the hull to tilt slightly and right itself due to the change in direction.

The captain on deck was adjusting the course, not to avoid anything, but enough.

If it's a reef area, it will break away quickly; if it's ice floes, the contact surface should also change.

But the tremor didn't even wait long, arriving unexpectedly amidst the waves. The heavy, damp pressure remained beneath the keel, unshaken.

"What are you looking at?!" Finally, a connection was made. The angry question, trembling in his voice, locked onto the person still tied up in the corner.

He kept his head down as usual, without responding, only pressing his chin closer to his chest when the tremors came.

Happy New Year everyone! (˙▽˙)
Another exceptionally busy year has passed in the blink of an eye. I hope that in the new year, both adults and children will be healthy and stay away from hospitals!