Chapter 376: Telegraph
According to the schedule, it was rest time after dinner. Feeling content from the meal, Weister made his way to the sailors' cabin.
As of now, he had yet to be promoted to be a full-fledged helmsman and was thus spared from the night shift and could rest like other sailors.
Those sailors in charge of the deck's maintenance didn't have to do the round-the-clock shifts required of the turbine and steering teams.
However, the arrangement came with its ups and downs. Though they got to enjoy a regular sleeping schedule, that was just the only benefit. On the flip side, their wages were the lowest among the ship's personnel.
The smell of sweaty feet and tobacco assaulted Weisters' nostrils the moment he pushed the door open to his rest area. Luckily, he had become desensitized to the smell over time. After all, it was an expected consequence of cramming seven to eight men into a confined space.
Despite being the largest cabin on the Narwhale, the sailors' quarters felt cramped, with four bunk beds, a table, and personal belongings cluttering the space.
Amidst the hazy smoke, Weister spotted Second Mate Feuerbach gambling with the crew members who had just finished their meals. He was the banker, and judging from his radiant smile, he seemed to have won quite a bit.
Under usual circumstances, Weister typically abstained from gambling, except when he could gamble with fresh blood with the vampire Audric. He was firm in his resolve to save his earnings for his family's future home and would never waste it on gambling.
Approaching his bed, he removed his boots before climbing up to the upper bunk. He settled in comfortably and grabbed a thick novel from beside his bed.
He used to favor novels revolving around sea adventures, but ever since he became a sailor, his tastes had shifted toward love stories on the islands.
Despite having read this particular novel once, he was captivated by its thrilling plot and decided to revisit it before he turned in for the night.
Just then, Feuerbach's excited shout echoed through the cabin, "HA! 19! I won again. Pay up, pay up!"
Weister tried to distance himself away from the commotion, but the limited area of the sailors' quarters meant he couldn't escape the chatter of his fellow crew mates.
"Sigh, by the way, have you guys heard? Those crazy lunatics from the Divine Light Order are going to remove our newly installed telegram machine."
Feuerbach's voice sounded out once more, and his voice was laced with a hint of frustration as he continued, "I don't know what crazy thing those guys are up to. Just when we have a means to stay in touch with our family I wanted to contact my son more frequently and now, it's out of the question. My son's going to forget who I am with all the time I spend at sea."
Weister jolted upright. With a look of anxiety, he dashed toward the table and questioned, "Really? Why are they removing it? I haven't even gotten the chance to send a telegram message to my mother!"
"Then you'd better hurry there now. I heard that they're in the midst of dismantling it."
A wave of anxiety washed over Weister. He immediately tossed the novel onto his bed and ran toward the cabin that housed the telegraph.
Making his way through the narrow corridor, it didn't take him long to arrive in the cabin with the telegraph. The moment he opened the door, he saw several members of the Divine Light Order in the process of dismantling the telegraph.
"Wait, everyone! Just let me send one more telegram! Just one!" Weister shouted as he made a beeline for the telegraph encoding book on the wall. However, a bald man blocked his path of advance.
With a hostile look on his face, he shoved Weister away. "As per the Pope's order, no one is allowed to send any more telegrams."
"Mate, just another one. My mother will be extremely worried if she suddenly can't get in contact with me!" Weister rushed forward again, only to be pushed back with much greater force.
The violent shove caused Weister to crash into the wall behind him with a loud thud. Before he could collapse on the ground, a cold hand grabbed his neck and held him up.
A pair of eyes glimmering with malevolence stared into his,
"Why do you insist on sending a telegram?! Are you the spy?!" the Divine Light Order disciple accused.
Weister struggled desperately to get out of his grasp, and his face quickly turned red from suffocation.
"CoughI I don't know what you are talking about! Cough cough! I just want to let my mother know that I'm safe."
"Oh, really? Then let me test if you are speaking the truth or lying," Wright sneered. With a flip of his tongue, he pulled out a long, sharp needle.
As the needle neared Weister's eye with a threatening precision, a green branch swiftly intervened, curling protectively in front of him.
"Let him send"
Wright turned around to see a figure wrapped up in bandages from whom the greenery extended from between the fabric's gaps.
Swish!
With a swift motion, Wright slashed at the branch with the needle and severed the green barrier that stood before him.
"The Pope's orders are absolute! No. Exceptions!"
The moment Wright's arrogant words left his lips, a surge of vegetation sprouted from the bandaged figure. Unlike before, they were no longer harmless branches but vines armed with sharp thorns.
Within moments, the room was overwhelmed by these thorny vines, with Bandages standing at the center.
With his characteristically deliberate speech, Bandages declared, "I am the First Mate of this ship Let him send it"
Bandages' voice, though not loud, carried a commanding authority that filled the space.
A hint of anger crossed Wright's countenance. His knuckles rapidly deformed in preparation for a confrontation. However, before tensions could escalate into a fight, a disciple of the Divine Light Order reached out to gently pull at Wright's clothing from behind.
"Wright, restrain yourself. Have you forgotten what the Pope said? We cannot get into a conflict with the people on this ship. Are you planning to defy his orders now?"
After a momentary glance at the threatening thorns encircling him, Wright shifted his focus back to Weister, whom he was holding. With a cold huff, he begrudgingly let go of Weister and stepped to the side with a scowl.
Weister couldn't care less about the close-to-break-out conflict and dashed toward the telegraph to send his message.
The threatening vines that had extended from Bandages began to recede, quickly drying up and detaching from his form. He gave a brief, sweeping glance over those gathered before making his exit.
"First Mate! Thank you!" Weister called out in appreciation, his voice trailing after the departing figure of Bandages.
Images of Weister bidding farewell to his mother flashed through Bandages' mind, and a hint of confusion crossed his eyes. However, he didn't halt in his tracks. Continuing down the hallway, Bandages made his way back to the bridge of the ship.
Anothertwo hundred nautical miles Bandages thought to himself as he looked at the map on the wall.
His bandaged hand slowly extended toward the map, and his finger landed on their target destination.
"Bandages, what happened? Did you find something?" Dipp asked curiously as he manned the helm.
"I seem to have been to this place before I think I remembersomething"
"Hello, can you increase your accuracy rate a little? I've been on so many voyages with you, and you claim to have been to almost every island we visited. Is this entire seascape your home?"
"No this time it's different different" Bandages' brows slowly furrowed under his bandages.
"Then should I inform the Captain about this, Bandages?" Dipp asked with apparent hesitation in his voice.
"No forget it Maybe I remembered it wrong maybe."
Dipp rolled his eyes at Bandages' reply and continued steering the ship.
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