Since shaking off the pursuit of the sculptor Galliard in the waters off Sumatra, the Black Seagull had been like a frightened behemoth. Even with frequent boiler overheating alarms, it maintained maximum speed as it fled westward.
The Indian Ocean's monsoon winds brought little relief to those on board.
On the contrary, as the ship gradually left the tropical rainforest climate zone, the air grew increasingly dry and scorching.
That was the dry, hot wind from the Arabian Peninsula.
Lin Jie sat shirtless in the narrow crew cabin.
William was using a roll of bandage sared with herbal ointnt, wrapping it around Lin Jie's chest in overlapping circles.
The inertial backlash caused by Galliard was more severe than anticipated.
While it hadn't caused a penetrating wound, that instant burst of kinetic energy had nearly shattered all the ribs on Lin Jie's left side.
With every breath, a dull, needle-like pain shot through his chest cavity.
"Two cracked, one displaced."
William's technique was professional. He pulled the bandage tight and tied a secure knot.
"If you don't want broken bones stabbing into your lung lobes, you'd better avoid strenuous activity for the next three days."
"Three days?"
Lin Jie put on his shirt, his movents sowhat sluggish as he buttoned it.
"We don't have three days."
He looked towards the other side of the cabin.
Julian was lying on a moldy hammock.
The scholar's head was wrapped in thick gauze, his face as pale as paper.
In the previous battle, he had been the most severely injured.
While not life-threatening, the severe concussion had kept him unconscious for two full days and nights.
It wasn't until this morning that he barely regained consciousness, but he still suffered from intense dizziness and nausea.
"Are we almost there?"
Julian's weak voice ca.
He struggled to sit up, but Evelyn, who was caring for him, pushed him back down.
"Don't move."
Evelyn's tone was stern, but her eyes held concern.
"If you don't want to beco a fool, lie still."
"I think we're here."
Lin Jie stood up, enduring the sharp pain in his chest as he walked to the porthole.
A gray-yellow coastline appeared on the horizon.
Countless rchant ships and warships flying various national flags crowded the narrow channel, like a migrating herd of wildebeest.
In the distant sky, dozens of black pillars of smoke shot straight into the clouds, staining the azure sky a murky, polluted gray haze.
That was Port Said, the northern entrance to the Suez Canal, the throat connecting the diterranean and the Red Sea.
It was also the busiest, most chaotic crossroads on this planet, overflowing with opportunities and sin.
"Get ready."
Lin Jie turned around, his gaze sharpening.
"We can't go ashore looking like this."
"This is one of the places where the Association's eyes are most concentrated. Any sign of weakness will attract sharks."
...
The dock area of Port Said was like a massive open-air furnace.
There were no clear national borders here.
British colonial officials, French engineers, Ottoman Empire rchants, and Egyptian local coolies mingled together.
The roar of steam cranes, the shouts of vendors, and the call to prayer from distant mosques intertwined into a cacophonous industrial symphony.
After paying a hefty "expedite fee," Captain Deken docked the Black Seagull at a remote coal-loading jetty.
This was a gathering place for smuggling ships.
"I need twelve hours."
The captain wiped coal dust from his face, looking at the slowly moving coal conveyor belt.
"The boilers must be cooled and cleaned, or they'll explode before we even enter the diterranean."
"That's enough."
Lin Jie pulled down the brim of his hat.
To conceal his injuries, he deliberately wore a loose linen robe, looking like a traveler who had trekked through the desert for a long ti.
"William, you stay on the ship."
Lin Jie looked at the veteran.
While William's condition was better than Julian's, he had lost his proper weapon.
The Church Holy Cannon was still locked in the safe at the Baker Street apartnt in London. He only had an ordinary Winchester rifle in his hands.
In a mixed, chaotic place like this, an ordinary gun offered little deterrence. Instead, its military specifications might attract trouble.
"This ship is our last line of retreat."
Lin Jie patted William's shoulder.
"Keep an eye on that Dutchman. Don't let him sell us out for a bounty."
William nodded silently.
Holding his gun, he found a shaded spot with a good view and sat down, his whole person seeming to lt into the darkness.
"Let's go."
Lin Jie led Evelyn and Julian, who could barely walk, down the ship via the wobbly gangplank.
The dock area of Port Said was as chaotic as a pot of boiling porridge.
The chants of coolies, the roar of steam cranes, and the shouts of vendors mixed together, forming a massive wall of sound.
Lin Jie kept his hat brim low, weaving through the crowd.
He turned into a narrow alley filled with filthy water. This was the "gray zone" of Port Said.
Here, the force of law was diluted to its minimum. Money and violence were the common currency.
The buildings on either side were dilapidated, their plaster peeling to reveal the mud bricks beneath.
In the dark corners crouched so ragged individuals.
Their eyes were hollow and numb, but when they saw Lin Jie and his two companions, a flash of greed or vigilance would appear.
Lin Jie noticed that so of these vagrants had strange tattoos.
Descendants of Apophis.
This fanatical cult, once all-powerful in Egypt, seed to have suffered a devastating blow after their plan in Cairo failed and their core mbers were captured.
These remnants had scattered to this port like stray dogs, hiding in the gutters, barely clinging to life.
Lin Jie ignored them.
As long as they didn't actively cause trouble, he had no intention of conducting a so-called "righteous purge" at this critical juncture.
He had only one target now.
It was an address the captain had given him before departure.
A dilapidated blacksmith shop deep in the gray zone, with a "Ship Repair" sign hanging outside.
It was said the owner there was once an Armant Blacksmith for the I.A.R.C. He was "persuaded to retire" by the Association after losing a leg in an experint, eventually ending up here, making a living by modifying ships and weapons for smugglers.
The blacksmith shop's facade was small. A half-open wooden door hung with a rusty anvil sign.
Before even entering, a wave of scorching heat and the clanging sound of tal striking tal hit them.
Lin Jie pushed the door open.
The light inside was dim, only the massive forge in the corner glowing red.
A burly but sowhat hunched old man stood with his back to the door, swinging a heavy hamr, pounding a piece of red-hot steel plate.
His left leg was a prosthetic made of brass and wood, creaking with chanical friction with his movents.
"I don't take rush orders," the old man roared without turning around.
"If it's for repairing ship anchors, go next door to that Arab. If it's for repairing guns, leave it here, co back in three days."
"I'm not here for anchors or guns."
Lin Jie walked forward and placed a black cloth-wrapped bundle on the workbench covered in tal filings.
"I want a pair of shoes made."
"Shoes?"
The old man stopped his work.
He turned around, revealing a face covered in burn scars.
His eyes suddenly turned sharp the mont they saw the bundle on the workbench.
As an old blacksmith who had dealt with Spiritual Materials his whole life, he could sense the unique fluctuations emanating from within even through the cloth.
It was the aura of a UMA.
"This is a blacksmith shop, not a cobbler's shop."
The old man snorted coldly, reaching out to push the bundle back.
"Don't test my patience with dirty things dug out from who-knows-what grave. Get out."
"This isn't dirty."
Lin Jie pressed his hand on the bundle.
"It was scraped off a ship's hull."
Lin Jie lifted a corner of the black cloth.
The gray, gelatinous core was exposed to the air, refracting a strange, fluid sheen under the forge's firelight.
The old blacksmith snatched the fragnt, completely disregarding any potential corrosive properties, and squeezed it hard with his large, calloused hand.
The fragnt deford in his grip, then instantly hardened as he applied pressure.
"Damn..."
The old man's breathing grew rapid.
"This is... a living kinetic energy conversion crystal?"
"I've only seen descriptions of this thing in the Association's material catalog... This is the core of those deep-sea parasitic monsters?"
He looked up, staring intently at Lin Jie.
"Just who are you people? Ordinary smugglers don't have the skill to extract this thing intact."
"You can call 'the buyer'."
Lin Jie didn't answer directly.
"I know you're Tobias, forr second-grade Armant Blacksmith of the Munich Branch."
"I also know you lost your left leg due to an 'unauthorized experint' and were expelled from the Association."
"But none of that matters."
Lin Jie pointed at the fragnt.
"What matters is, this material, only you can handle it."
Tobias fell silent for a mont.
He put down his hamr, took a monocle from a greasy shelf nearby, put it on, and began carefully examining the fragnt.
"You want shoes made?"
Tobias's voice softened a bit, but still carried an edge.
"This thing's property is that it strengthens when force is applied. If you stick it directly to the soles of your feet, when you run, it will instantly turn into several-ton heavy iron blocks."
"You'll rip your own ankles off from the inertia."
"Unless..."
The old man stomped his prosthetic leg on the ground.
"Unless you can find a buffer dium tough enough to withstand that instantaneous tensile force."
"For example..."
"For example this."
Lin Jie pulled another item from the backpack behind him.
It was a piece of snakeskin he had casually cut off while hunting the Giant Nabau Serpent in the South Seas.
Though not a core material, as the skin of that gravity-manipulating giant serpent, it possessed astonishing toughness and adaptability to gravity changes.
Tobias's eyes widened further.
He snatched the piece of snakeskin, rubbing his fingers over it repeatedly, feeling its cool, tough texture.
"A perfect match..."
The old man muttered to himself.
"Using this skin as lining and connectors can buffer the reactive force generated when the core hardens."
"And this thing itself has a certain gravity affinity."
He looked up at Lin Jie.
"You're an expert. I'll take this job. But it's not enough."
Tobias pointed at the core.
"This thing is too precious. Making just a pair of soles would only use a third of it."
"The rest goes to , as the processing fee."
"Deal."
Lin Jie didn't hesitate at all.
For him, materials only had value when converted into combat power.
Moreover, he still had other fragnts peeled from the hull of the Black Seagull. Though not as pure as this piece, they were enough for future use.
"Also, one more small thing."
Lin Jie stepped aside, letting Evelyn behind him co forward.
Evelyn placed the severely damaged Echo Goggles on the workbench.
"The core crystal of this thing is cracked."
Lin Jie said.
"We need it repaired."
Tobias picked up the goggles for a look, his brow furrowing.
"This is delicate work."
"Deep-sea sonar crystal... Once this structure is physically damaged, the spiritual circuit is broken."
"To fix it, welding alone won't work."
The old man rummaged through a shelf and pulled out a small, dust-covered box containing so silvery-white powder.
"I need to use liquid mithril to refill the cracks, but this will alter so of its properties."
Tobias looked at Evelyn.
"Girl, once this thing is repaired, it might not be as sensitive as before."
"It will lose its ability to capture faint sound waves."
"But..."
The old man grinned, revealing a mouthful of broken teeth.
"Liquid mithril has an extrely strong resonance with solid structures."
"Though it won't hear the wind anymore, it might let you 'see' through walls."
"In other words, it will transform from a simple sound wave radar into a structural imager."
"Can you accept that?"
Evelyn was stunned for a mont, then a flash of delight appeared in her eyes.
Structural imaging.
For her, who needed to find structural weaknesses in buildings or analyze chanical constructions, this was an upgrade born from misfortune.
"Yes!"
Evelyn nodded vigorously.
"Then let's begin."
Tobias waved his hand, signaling them to step back.
"Give three hours. In three hours, take your things and get out."
As the bellows were pulled, the forge's flas surged again.
Lin Jie and Evelyn stayed in the blacksmith shop, watching the old man work.
Julian, however, said he wanted to look around the area.
As a scholar, he had a natural curiosity for this black market filled with historical sedintation and mysterious atmosphere.
Moreover, he needed to search for so clues about Europe, about their upcoming destination.
Julian walked out of the blacksmith shop. The sky outside was still overcast.
He tightened his trench coat, trying to look like an ordinary down-on-his-luck tourist.
He walked aimlessly along the alley. The shops here were bizarre.
There were voodoo stalls selling dried crocodile heads, swindlers peddling so-called "Pharaoh's Curse coins," and dicine n hawking various unknown herbs.
But at the end of the alley, a seemingly rickety antique shop caught his attention.
The shop's sign depicted a faded raven, a symbol of death and prophecy in Celtic mythology.
In this port saturated with Egyptian and Arabic styles, such a distinctly Nordic symbol seed out of place.
Julian pushed the door open and went in.
The shelves were piled with all sorts of disorganized items: chipped porcelain, rusty knight swords, yellowed nautical charts.
Behind the counter sat a dozing old man.
He had a ss of red hair, looking like an Irishman or Scotsman.
Julian didn't disturb him. His gaze swept over the piles of dusty books.
As the holder of The Scribe's Papyrus, he had a special sensitivity to text and knowledge.
Soon, in an old book bound in parchnt buried at the bottom of a pile, he detected an unusual spiritual fluctuation.
It was just an ordinary "British Geological Survey Log."
The author's signature was an unfamiliar na: T.W. Pengelly.
The date was 1850.
Julian carefully pulled out the book and opened the page marked by a bookmark.
A folded, yellowed letter was tucked there, with a hand-drawn map on it.
It was of Cornwall in southwestern England.
The map was densely marked with countless lines—the directions of mineral veins.
All the lines ultimately converged on one point.
Tintagel.
And beside that point, in handwriting that was extrely scribbled, as if written in extre fear, was a line of Latin:
"Hic Draco Dormit." (Here sleeps the dragon.)
Julian's heart gave a violent thump.
Dragon.
In Celtic mythology, dragons often represented the power of the earth, or so kind of guardian.
But below this line was an even smaller annotation, written in Old English:
"The mineral veins are drying up."
"That's not for sale."
The old man behind the counter had woken up at so point.
"That thing was left by my grandfather. He was a madman, spent his whole life saying devils were hidden under Cornwall."
Julian closed the book, his face regaining its calm. He took two gold coins from his pocket and gently placed them on the counter.
"Everyone has a price, old sir."
"I'm not just buying this letter. I want all your grandfather's notes about Cornwall."
The old man looked at the two shiny gold pounds, his Adam's apple bobbing.
In this slum, this was more money than he could earn in several years.
"Take it."
The old man snatched the coins as if afraid Julian would change his mind.
"Take it all. That mad talk only brings misfortune."
Julian carefully tucked the letter into his coat and picked up the stack of notes.
Three hours later.
Inside the blacksmith shop.
Tobias threw down his hamr and let out a long breath.
On the workbench lay two newly finished creations.
The first was a pair of sowhat bulky-looking black leather boots. The boot surface wasn't smooth but had a rough, grainy texture.
They were sewn from the skin of the Giant Nabau Serpent.
But the most eye-catching part was the soles.
They were made from a special gelatinous substance slted from the core of the parasitic anchor cluster, presenting a deep dark gray.
Lin Jie picked up the boots and tried them on.
As soon as he put them on, he felt that subtle sense of weight.
These shoes weren't light; each weighed at least two kilograms.
But when he tried lifting his leg, stomping his foot, that sense of weight disappeared, replaced by an extre sense of snug fit.
It was as if a living layer of skin had grown on the soles of his feet.
Lin Jie attempted a very quick, shuffling movent in the narrow shop.
"Thump."
The mont his sole touched the ground, that faint impact force was instantly absorbed by the sole.
Within that millisecond, the sole beca hard as iron, providing an absolutely stable support point.
This hardness didn't reverberate back into his foot. Instead, thanks to the buffering of the snakeskin lining, all the force was converted into grip.
Stable.
Terribly, frighteningly stable.
If the Black rcury allowed him to glide like a ghost, then these shoes let him take root like a nail.
Whenever he wanted to exert force, the ground beneath his feet was solid earth.
"These shoes don't have a na yet," Tobias said, wiping sweat.
"Call them... Gravity Dancer."
Lin Jie looked down at the boots on his feet, feeling that solid, connected sensation with the earth.
Beside him, Evelyn also put on the repaired Echo Goggles.
The cracks on the lenses had been filled with silvery liquid mithril, forming patterns like lightning bolts.
This made the goggles look even more eerie and more technologically advanced.
Evelyn pressed the activation switch and looked at Tobias.
In her field of vision, the old man's skin and clothes beca transparent, revealing the bones beneath, the internal gear structure of that brass prosthetic leg, even the violently beating heart.
This was structural imaging. The superficial appearance of matter was stripped away, leaving only the most essential chanical structure.
"Thank you."
Lin Jie left the remaining parasitic anchor cluster fragnts on the workbench—the agreed-upon paynt.
"We should go."
Julian had already returned to the doorway, his expression sowhat grave.
The three quickly left the blacksmith shop, disappearing into the complex alleyways of Port Said.
They had to cross the Suez Canal before nightfall.
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