From the Ship of Fools to Earl of Wugang

The morning sunlight streamed through the gaps in the hotel's heavy curtains, casting a streak of light on Edmund's face.

He lay in bed staring at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling for a few seconds, then slowly sat up.

He had been lying on the iron bed on the Fool's Ship for almost half a month, and the soft mattress and high-thread-count cotton sheets made him feel somewhat uncomfortable.

As he went into the bathroom to wash up, the image of Lane Hall in the mirror still occasionally gave him a sense of disorientation.

Deep-set eyes, a straight nose, and a slender but well-defined jawline.

He was indeed good-looking, but the hollows below his cheekbones reminded him that his body hadn't been eating properly and needed to rest.

However, speaking of this... Ryan's consciousness seems to still exist in this body, but so far it has been very well-behaved.

Edmund didn't have a good solution for the time being, and could only hope to become a superhuman as soon as possible and then find a way to resolve the issue.

After getting dressed, he went downstairs to the hotel restaurant.

Breakfast here is a buffet, and Edmund ate while flipping through the morning newspaper on the table.

More than a month after I was locked up by the cult and cut off from the world, the world remained as ordinary as ever, and there was nothing noteworthy in the newspapers.

It wasn't until a news item in the corner of the sixth edition that caught his attention: "Insomnia is spreading in several coastal states, including Veredia, Tandon, and Murray; health departments have launched an investigation."

Aside from the factual description, the report contained only a few lines of carefully worded commentary, attributing the insomnia to "possible water contamination" and "seasonal psychological stress," and stating that health officials had been dispatched to conduct tests.

Edmund folded the newspaper and set it aside; it was no longer of much concern to him.

After finishing breakfast, he took a taxi to the intersection of Belmont Avenue and 7th Street.

There is a renovated three-story building here, with a lightbox sign that stands out prominently among the nearby buildings.

The signboard reads "Extreme Angle: Internet and Coffee" in bold handwriting, with a smaller line below that reads: "Coffee, Internet, Future".

He admired with interest the posters about the new modem pasted on the glass window, then pushed open the door and went inside.

The first floor was just a typical coffee shop area, but his destination was the second floor—a hand-drawn notice was posted at the top of the stairs: "Internet access on the second floor, 20 yuan per hour, including a drink."

The second-floor space was filled with a constant, low hum. The space was divided into two rows of semi-open cubicles, each containing a beige desktop computer. The green glow of the CRT monitors cast a bluish hue over the entire space.

The receptionist was a long-haired young man. Edmund placed two banknotes in front of him: "One camera."

"You can sit anywhere that's empty." The receptionist, engrossed in the magazine, didn't even look up. "Remember to save your things when you leave; we're not responsible for keeping records."

Edmund chose the machine furthest to the back in the corner. After the operating system desktop appeared on the screen, he moved the mouse and clicked on the icon labeled "Browser".

The dial-up connection lasted for about ten seconds, then a browser window popped up, loading a colorful portal website homepage.

He started the dialer, entered the node number, and connected to a BBS after a handshake noise.

"Golden Dome" is a forum where a group of netizens working in financial systems and computer financial services exchange ideas.

In an era when most people didn't even know what the Internet was, this place was home to some of the most astute tech minds in much of the western continent.

Edmund entered his ID: Eye of the Storm.

This was the account he registered during his time with the Abyss Cult. His internet skills were unparalleled within the cult, and this information retrieval ability was a crucial aid to his rapid promotion.

Twenty years of internet experience in my previous life is a game-changer in this era, a kind of game-changer in every sense.

In this forum, he used his experience to solve several server crashes and data backup problems, and was elected as one of the active administrators.

Login successful. The main interface pops up, showing seventeen people online.

Edmund opened his private message inbox and found several unread messages, the most recent one from a week ago.

[Sender: Pure Golden Light]

[Title: None]

[Content: The weather's been great here lately, and I just got a new batch of good stuff. Maybe that travel plan you mentioned can finally be done.]

This was precisely the person he had previously considered for the next step of his plan.

He met this person about half a year ago when he saw someone on a forum asking for help with a compiler error. He casually replied and solved the problem. The other person thanked him readily, and they kept in touch intermittently afterward.

Edmund consistently communicated with the other party as an "independent investor," and "Pure Golden Light's" messages only revealed that she was a woman living in a city in the northern part of the Veridiar Federation. This online friend routinely developed system tools for the financial industry, and the two discussed technology, the market, and occasionally exchanged a few words about their respective lives.

About two months ago, during a chance encounter, the two discussed some matters related to private servers and casually mentioned the possibility of meeting in person to discuss cooperation. Edmund casually said, "I'll visit you when I have time," and the other party jokingly sent him location information—a coastal city called Flamingo in the northern part of the Republic.

Before Edmund could make any further arrangements, his plan to abscond with the money was discovered by the cult, and he was subsequently stuffed into a sack and thrown into the sea.

In his recollection, he created a new encrypted message.

[From: Storm Eye]

[Title: None]

[Content: Plans have changed. I happen to have some free time to travel far away to discuss the equipment we discussed before. If it's convenient for you to host an old friend, I'll arrive within a week.]

send.

After sending the message, Edmund leaned back in his chair and waited for a reply.

Based on his understanding of "Pure Golden Light," this person is online almost 24/7, and usually replies within half an hour.

To kill time, he casually browsed the forum's news section. Several post titles caught his eye:

"Several ports in the southern part of the Republic have reported large-scale insomnia. Does anyone know the inside story?"

"I've been having an unusually high number of dreams lately. Could this be related to spiritual energies?"

"Selling a used encrypted modem, in good condition."

Edmund opened the first post and quickly skimmed through its brief content. The poster claimed to have heard about it from a relative who had been suffering from insomnia for almost a week. Most of the replies were sarcastic speculations, with no one mentioning anything substantial.

The second post, however, drew his attention for a little longer.

The poster described his recent recurring nightmares in a cryptic way—about an upside-down city suspended underwater by currents. At the end of the post, the poster asked if this was related to "spiritual tides."