Grand Voyage : Surviving on a Ghost Ship-Chapter 205 - Gathering Salt

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The Ironhead sailed towards the rendezvous coordinates as planned.

“Something’s not right…”

Zhao Ironhead hesitated, peering through his telescope at the distant Nightmare Star.

It was a special ship, over 35 metres long, its hull mostly constructed from bones, jagged and angular. White skeletal arms writhed along its surface, and even its sails were formed by interlocking hands.

【An eerie vessel. Your sanity decreases by 10.】

For a moment, Zhao wasn’t sure if he’d got the coordinates wrong. He double-checked the sea chart.

“No, it matches… Could this really be One-Eye’s ship?”

Looking again, he noticed sea salt spread across the deck of the Nightmare Star. That confirmed it was a player’s vessel, otherwise, everything about the ship screamed “hostile force”.

A raft was tossed from the Nightmare Star.

Yang Yi, clad in his sharkskin swimsuit, stood on it, rowing across the milky-white seawater with a plank, heading toward the Ironhead.

The waves of the Bountiful Sea weren’t large; even a raft could sail smoothly, as long as one kept an eye out for the drifting flesh chunks.

“I’m coming over. Move a little closer,”

Yang Yi messaged Zhao Ironhead and waved.

The two ships were only seven to eight hundred metres apart, and under the clear sky, visibility was perfect.

Zhao put away his telescope, glanced at the message, and immediately steered the Ironhead closer, preparing to bring Yang Yi aboard.

Since the man wasn’t an impostor, Zhao had no choice but to carry out his mission.

…

Ten minutes later.

Yang Yi reached the side of the Ironhead.

The ship was about thirty metres long, entirely in iron, making it solid and reliable. It had no sails, only a massive, sharp black ram at its prow, making it resemble a giant black beetle.

Zhao Ironhead had already enabled boarding permissions. In one hand, he carried two buckets of sea salt, scattering them across the waves to drive away the flesh chunks attempting to drift closer.

Bang!

A sharp gunshot cracked the air, startling Zhao.

Yang Yi had blasted apart a chunk of flesh blocking his way.

That was how he’d handled them all en route, shattering them into pieces. Though not killing them outright, the fragments took time to regroup, clearing his path.

He secured his raft to the Ironhead’s side and climbed up the handholds.

On deck, Zhao Ironhead stood tense and ready.

After all, One-Eye’s reputation was daunting, weighing heavily on him.

Soon, a man over 1.8 metres tall, stocky but solidly built, pulled himself aboard.

Exposure to sea wind and sun had bronzed Yang Yi’s skin, and faint scars marked many places. They weren’t unhealed wounds but rather patches where new skin differed in shade from the old.

“O-One-Eye?”

Zhao swallowed hard, staring at the young man before him, wearing an eyepatch and a half-mask shaped like a bird’s beak.

The latter nodded.

Suddenly, his abdomen writhed, as though something inside was trying to escape.

Smack!

Yang Yi slapped his stomach hard. The movement ceased, and he gave a slightly awkward but polite smile.

“I’m One-Eye. You must be Zhao Tie. Nice to meet you!”

He extended his right hand for a handshake, but Zhao froze for a moment.

“One-Eye definitely has something hidden beneath his clothes!” he thought grimly, forcing himself to shake hands.

Then he noticed something odd: Yang Yi’s antique flintlock pistol had vanished from his left hand, and in its place a tiny black worm was biting his pinky.

“You’re being bitten by something!”

Zhao immediately warned, reaching for the old revolver at his waist.

“Oh, you mean this? It’s actually a ring, one of my pieces of equipment.”

Yang Yi replied casually, telling Zhao not to be so tense…

“So, this is exactly why I don’t like dealing with powerful players…” Zhao Ironhead muttered under his breath, his face slightly flushed.

Yang Yi gave him a quick once-over.

He could tell Zhao was a sturdy, rough type of man, definitely not someone who neglected training. His stats couldn't be low.

Since it was their first meeting, they didn’t waste time on small talk. They went straight to business and headed into the Ironhead’s cabin.

This ship was somewhat unusual. The captain’s quarters, or living space, were built inside the cargo hold, taking up a portion of the room. As a result, the space available for storage was relatively small.

The twenty-plus tons of sea salt had nearly filled the Ironhead’s hold.

Yang Yi scanned the cargo and quickly estimated by the number of bags. It had to be about twenty-three tons in total, easily enough to all fit inside his stomach pouch.

Thirty cubic metres of space was more than enough. (One cubic metre of water weighs one ton, and salt is denser than water).

He pulled out the stomach pouch, fed it a piece of ultra-delicious cake to make it open, and began packing the salt bag by bag.

“That stomach pouch… are you the one who sold the pirate ship blueprints?” Zhao asked suddenly.

The more he looked at the pouch, the more familiar it seemed. Once he confirmed its function and usage, he recalled everything.

The pouch had once belonged to the New World Fleet but had been traded away in exchange for blueprints.

Although, its appearance seemed different now, fatter somehow…

“That was me.”

Yang Yi nodded without denying it, turning himself into a merciless salt-collecting machine as he stuffed bag after bag into the pouch.

“No wonder he insisted on retrieving it himself… with such a massive storage tool.” Zhao realised, his mind clicking into place.

“But the pouch looks different now… could it have evolved into a top-grade item?”

He wanted to ask, but in the end, kept quiet.

In barely ten minutes, Yang Yi had stored all twenty tons of sea salt in the pouch, leaving the rest untouched.

After all, the Ironhead also needed salt reserves for safety on its return trip.

If supplies ran short later, Yang Yi could always ask Shen Guanquan for more.

Once finished, he immediately prepared to leave. He had no intention of lingering aboard the Ironhead.

Hopping onto his raft, he paddled towards the nearby Nightmare Star.

Zhao stood at the bow, silently watching him go, while secretly contacting Shen Guanquan.

He sent photos of the Nightmare Star and of Yang Yi himself.

“He’s alone? No companions?”

“Yes.”

“And he left after taking only twenty tons of salt?”

“Correct.”

“Then bring the fleet back. He doesn’t seem to like being followed.”

“Understood!”

Receiving his orders, Zhao turned the Ironhead around, steering back towards the New World Fleet.

It wasn’t far.

On the Hope.

Shen Guanquan studied the photos of the Nightmare Star and Yang Yi.

“Alone… and a skeleton ship. Then what did he mean when he said he had crew?”

He frowned in confusion.

Zooming in on the images, he searched for signs of other people aboard. But there were none, only several skeletal arms, twitching faintly.

“Could One-Eye’s so-called crew… be referring to those things?”

Shen Guanquan’s expression stiffened.

Back on the Nightmare Star.

Yang Yi had noticed movement behind him, the Ironhead was turning away.

By the time he returned to the deck, the ship was already far off.

But even at that distance, it was still within the range of his Scrying skill.

He continued steering after the Farmer, while keeping one eye on the Ironhead, watching to see whether it was truly leaving or secretly following.

When he saw the fleet of more than a dozen ships sailing away without looking back, only then did he close the projection.

It seemed Shen Guanquan had no intention of tailing him to scavenge leftovers.

Otherwise, things would have gotten ugly.

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