Sunset bled across the Endless Sea, and the Jellyfish lit her lamps one by one. Shadows swallowed the deck in slow waves.
Ethan followed the sailor past cargo hatches and narrow corridors until the ship’s dining hall opened up in front of him.
The room was larger than he expected—long table, benches, and enough food laid out to make it feel almost festive. Maybe they were close to Storm Island. Maybe sailors just ate like men who never trusted tomorrow.
A broad‑shouldered man with a weathered grin lifted a bottle. Captain John.
“Rules of the sea,” John said, voice warm with rum even before the drinking started. “When the ocean’s favorite boards my ship, we toast the sea.”
He poured two glasses full—no half measures—and raised his own. “Cheers. To the sea.”
Ethan thanked him, then drank the rum down in one go. The burn hit his chest like a small fire and left his head strangely clear.
John’s laugh boomed. “Good. You’re a straightforward one.”
Dinner rolled into conversation. The crew was friendly, curious, and full of the kind of stories people only tell when they think you’ll never meet their families.
Ethan learned the Jellyfish was a merchant steamship that ran rum to Storm Island—hundreds of barrels at a time.
He learned that John wasn’t the owner. The ship belonged to Dorsen Shipping Co. John and the rest were employees—working men, not lords.
And he learned what he’d been trying to learn since day one: what regular people knew about the Awakened.
“In Windrest City,” John said, “there’s an old bishop. Frey. Good man.”
The crew nodded along. More than one touched a charm at their neck.
“He treats folks,” John continued. “Sailors, dockhands, the poor. Gives out healing draughts. Works like miracles.”
Potions. Supernatural goods. The crew spoke of them like a rumor that happened to be true.
They tossed out other names and stories—evil criminals, terrifying incidents, powerful enforcers—but Ethan noticed the pattern. Ordinary people knew the Awakened existed, yet most of them didn’t understand anything beyond headlines and miracle medicine.
The meal ended on laughter. Ethan thanked the captain and crew, then made his way back through the ship by memory.
Rain still slicked the planks. The sea slapped the hull with an almost musical rhythm.
For the first time, Ethan realized he liked the sound. Like breathing. Like a heartbeat that didn’t belong to him.
“Splash…”
“Splash…”
“Shh… shh…”
It was the sound of wind in trees.
On the ocean.
His spine went cold.
The rustle grew louder, bleeding over the waves until it nearly swallowed them.
Moonshadow Elixir.
Side effects.
Ethan stopped enjoying the night and started moving. He quickened his pace toward his cabin, boots slipping once on the wet boards.
Behind him, a shadow—small, feline—followed with obvious confusion. Skye.
Inside the cabin, Ethan shut the door, lit the lamp, and sat hard on the edge of the bed.
He dug through his inventory with shaking fingers. Strange whispers meant one thing: his Sanity had dipped again.
He needed to restore it—fast—before whatever liked that sound decided to look for the source.
Problem: a large ship wasn’t a good fishing platform. The hull sat too high above the water, and the cabin held nothing worth hooking.
So he looked at what he did have.
[PANEL] Inventory (Quick List)
– Fishing Rod
– Dragonblood Dagger
– Common Luck Potion
– Irregular Pearls
– Water Element Essence ×20
The dagger and the potion were unique. He’d already taken their one good pull.
That left the blue crystals.
Ethan took out twenty pieces of Water Element Essence. Each one was a pale-blue shard sealed in a clear ice skin, barely the size of a grain of rice. They glittered under lamplight and radiated a thin, chilly breath.
He didn’t hesitate. He anchored the medium in his palm and triggered Rodless Fishing.
[ITEM] Pure Water ×1
[SYSTEM] Sanity Restore +1%
[SYSTEM] Sanity Restore +5%
[SYSTEM] Sanity Restore +2%
[SYSTEM] …
He kept counting. Ten essences consumed. Roughly thirty percent of Sanity clawed back. Then the restoration stopped climbing—
—because he’d hit full.
The rustling vanished as if it had never existed. Only the waves remained.
Thank god SSS-Rank Infinite Fishing can patch Sanity, he thought, exhaling hard.
He put the untouched essences back into his pack—emergency rations for his mind.
The ten spent ones he kept in his hand, turning them slowly just to watch the light fracture.
“How do you have Water Element Essence?”
The voice came from above. Ethan looked up.
Skye was perched on the frame of the small ceiling window, golden slit pupils locked on the crystals like they were prey.
Ethan didn’t answer. He wasn’t going to explain where he’d gotten a supernatural material that most alchemists would kill for.
Instead, he asked the only safe question. “You want them?”
Skye’s ears twitched. She tried to look unimpressed and failed.
“You… would give them to me?” she asked, suspicion and hunger braided together.
Ethan’s mind ran a dozen paths at once. Then he chose the one that bought him a weapon he couldn’t craft himself.
He extended his hand.
Skye dropped soundlessly to the floor—
—and just as she reached for the crystals, Ethan closed his fingers into a loose fist.
“Twelve hours after we make landfall,” he said calmly. “Get me Mithril Bullets.”
He tilted his fist. The crystals chimed softly against his skin.
“Do that, and these are yours.”