Chapter Seven: Night Wanderings

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Upon opening his eyes again and feeling the darkness before him, Hughes sighed deeply.

“Looks like I’m back again. This seems to be the fastest time yet.”

“Not unexpected, but at least there’s a clue—there really are extraordinary creatures in the deep sea.”

“Another descent… hmm?”

A vague unease stirred within Hughes. Instinctively, he rolled over, inhaling the dampness the evening breeze carried from the tide. His foggy mind began to clear. After a few seconds, Hughes suddenly sat upright on the bed.

“This isn’t right! This is that island—I’m not dead!?”

He searched his body, finding neither injury nor missing parts. He was dressed in loose pajamas. The room was pitch black, with no light filtering in from the balcony.

Nightfall?

He scrutinized the room carefully—it was indeed his bedroom. At the foot of the bed, a maid was slumped in a chair, head tilted, sound asleep.

Nearby, on a raised surface, a meticulously polished metal calendar stood open to the third day of the Blooming Flowers Month.

The third day... His memory only reached the first day of Blooming Flowers Month, the day before the descent. He had encountered the swollen monster on the second day at the dock, so...

“I’ve been unconscious for a whole day?”

After some thought, Hughes shook his head. “The calendar is updated daily by the cleaning staff each morning. It must be late at night now; I’ve probably been unconscious for two days and a night.”

“Well, at least I didn’t miss anything—the pirates aren’t coming to negotiate until tomorrow.”

Hughes slipped off the bed with ease, walked over to the desk, and poured himself a glass of water.

The crisp, sweet water flowed down his parched throat, revitalizing him completely. Then, certain details caught his attention.

“When did my eyesight get this good?”

The curtains were drawn—thick velvet curtains that blocked nearly all light. Besides, it was deep into the night; no lamps were lit inside.

Beside the maid’s chair sat an oil lamp, its flame dimmed to a tiny flicker, barely brighter than a soybean, the only source of light.

Hughes looked down at the cup in his hand. It was made of silver mixed with some copper and a small amount of tin. Intricate patterns decorated it, including irises—the emblem of the Cohen family.

Copper and tin? He recognized the composition of the silver cup at a glance.

Hughes swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and suppressed the surge of excitement within him.

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The so-called “symbiosis ritual” apparently wasn’t just about taking—it seemed he could now see in the dark, even discerning the materials that made the silver cup!

It was a strange sensation, as if tapping into some existence beyond ordinary perception. Recalling the fleeting glimpse he had before losing consciousness, Hughes closed his eyes and tried to engage his new senses to perceive the world.

Have you ever tried to perceive the world without using your eyes?

Humans are incredibly adaptable, especially in certain respects.

The retina forms an inverted image, but the brain adapts seamlessly—this is ordinary.

But what if, one day, the image were no longer inverted?

He had designed a special pair of glasses that did nothing else but flip the image upside down.

Everyone who wore these glasses staggered about, unable to distinguish up from down, left from right, their lives in disarray.

At this point, one might conclude that the human body has inherent flaws, evolutionary limitations.

But the experiment didn’t end there.

He made the subjects wear the glasses all day—eating, living, never removing them.

Within about ten days, the participants fully adapted to the inverted world and resumed normal lives.

The world in your eyes is upside down. You might feel absurd, terrified, or bewildered, but your body tells you: it’s no big deal, just adapt.

Human potential always exceeds expectation.

This was exactly how Hughes felt now, as if immersed in warm water, countless streams of information washing over him.

He was stunned to find he could analyze this information.

At some unknown point, many changes had occurred within him.

Could this be the symbiosis ritual? Indeed, “symbiosis” meant not only sharing vitality but also part of the sensory ability.

Hughes suddenly understood—might his days unconscious have been spent adapting to these new senses?

Experimenting with these new perceptions, he found they seemed related to water; he could easily detect nearby bodies of water, with larger expanses appearing clearer.

Given that this ability derived from the monstrous fish, it made perfect sense. Hughes tried sensing the nearby waters.

The easiest to detect should be the sea.

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Without effort, Hughes perceived the sea. Just a few hundred meters beyond the balcony lay the ocean... no, even closer!

Beneath the manor, beneath layers of soil and brick, warm ocean currents flowed.

“Hm?”

Hughes raised his brow, focusing his attention.

As he probed carefully, an intricate map of underground water veins unfolded in his mind’s eye. Not only beneath the manor itself, but throughout the island, he faintly sensed steadily flowing currents.

And as he continued, a familiar presence entered his perception.

It was...

“The swollen monster?”

Hughes was startled. He had assumed the swollen monster was either killed on the spot by soldiers, fled far away, or somehow became a guest in the manor—but here it was, within the underground water veins beneath the estate.

Why was it still here? Was it waiting for him?

Speaking of which, beneath the manor...

Frowning, Hughes thought back carefully. He had not been here long as a frontier count. Who was the previous owner of this manor?

Apparently a merchant?

Of course, “merchant” was just the official title. The empire did not recognize the pirate king who ruled here or his black sail fleet; thus, these were merely outlaw traders.

The Storm Ocean, the empire’s eastern gem, constantly under the queen’s watchful gaze. Yet the navy was newly established and the empire’s borders ended at the sea.

At this thought, Hughes smirked. That he, a bastard son, could be directly titled count spoke volumes about the queen’s desire and urgency concerning this maritime region.

Quietly, Hughes moved to the bedroom door and carefully opened it, feeling the direction of the tide as he touched the wall.

In the tranquil night, he could hear his own heartbeat pounding.

He wanted to meet that swollen monster—it was his first real encounter with the extraordinary. Swallowing hard, he stepped through the doorway and left the bedroom.