Shipwreck Secrets and Lurking Shadows
I circled the edges of the wrecked ship, which turned out to be far larger than I'd imagined, searching for a way in. Normally, I'd need a ladder or something to climb up to the upper decks, but with no such gear around, I'd have to get clever about it.
The right side of the stern was massively caved in, as if it had smashed into something solid.
At the center of that dent was a gaping hole—the apparent cause of the ship washing up on this island.
"I can get in through here."
The hole was bigger than it looked, making entry straightforward.
'Lost Shipwreck'
A typical uninhabited island in the southern seas of the Central Plains. This place teems with horrific monsters that only emerge at night, making it too dangerous to subdue. It's been abandoned, and even seasoned fishermen now avoid it.
The shipwreck Hwelorfun—a Spanish vessel from Iberia that set sail from the Philippines for illicit trade with Japan (Zipangu), evading Central Plains oversight—ran afoul of a typhoon and ended up stranded and adrift here. Many from its home country frantically searched for it afterward, but their efforts bore no fruit, and it faded from memory.
I gripped nearby surfaces to avoid slipping as I ventured deeper inside, only for a thick, musty stench to assault my nose. The unfamiliar odor made me wrinkle my face and pinch my nostrils shut—then an alien screen overlaid my vision, bewildering me further after my sense of smell.
It was just like in the game: background lore on the current location, sprinkled with hints that might aid in clearing it. As I finished reading, the text faded and vanished from view. Even seeing it with my own eyes was hard to comprehend.
These guidance screens had never appeared before I recognized my possession. Only after realizing this was a game world did the system seem to say, "Ah, finally figured it out? Here, use the status window."
"So it really is a game world, after all."
The system straight-up called it an uninhabited island, saving me the effort of investigating. The problems? Those "horrific monsters that only emerge at night"—immediate, real threats—and the ominous line implying "many frantically searched... but bore no fruit." It planted dark thoughts: Is that my future too?
Still, I had reasons not to lose hope entirely.
'Hidden Stage'—in other words, an opportunity in this game. Was there one like this in the original story? The question flickered, but with the game's vast worldbuilding, I brushed it off. The setup felt a bit sloppy, sure.
What mattered was encountering an opportunity at all. This game stood out by emphasizing their rarity, unlike others that handed them out like candy. Even after multiple playthroughs, bad luck could leave you without a single one—frustrating some players—but that scarcity fit the core concept, I'd always thought.
Maybe there's a way to fix this body's blocked meridians here? Hopeful circuits started firing. Opportunities were rare and tough to clear, but the rewards were guaranteed solid. Even without a fix, there'd be plenty of treasure.
The map name alone screamed potential. Shipwrecks were said to hold untold riches, even if mostly sunken ones. No way this had nothing worthwhile, right?
With such thoughts, I wandered the surprisingly spacious interior.
Luckily, the ship had washed ashore on a sunny sandbar, so the internal damage wasn't too severe. I could explore confidently, stepping through the hull and facilities bit by bit.
◈ Empty rum barrel (lightweight, intact unlike others)
◈ Broken falconets (4), rusted matchlocks (15), rusted cutlasses (10), corroded boarding pikes (10) — too damaged for repair/use
◈ Wet gunpowder crate — soaked and ruined, unusable
◈ Sealed gunpowder crate (wax/resin coated) — intact contents
Poeder voor 6-ponds kanonnen -50lb
Gunpowder crates and murky sacks stained with unidentifiable gunk littered the hold. Climbing higher on the footholds, I was greeted by rusted cannons and moldy grain sacks. I set aside anything usable.
What to call these spoils? Battlefield trophies from a world far from wuxia, but they'd come in handy eventually.
'Matchlocks, huh.'
I picked up a matchlock from an open weapons crate—metal rusted, wood rotted to mush—and pulled the trigger.
Click!
As expected, the trigger jammed despite my effort. Confirming it was useless, I smacked my lips in disappointment. It fit the era, sure—Ming or Joseon had solid firearms tech. But in this game world? Hardly impressive. Against superhumans wielding heavy spears and swords, sprinting 100 meters in five seconds, flying, and shooting sword qi? Forget it, unless it was modern assault rifles.
With lingering regret, I tossed the rusty gun aside and grabbed a "cutlass"—a lump of metal. No expert here, but it looked like it started as a sword. Now bloated and deformed, more club than blade. Better than nothing in this situation. I swung it a few times like a bludgeon, then tucked it at my waist.
Miserable weapon, but compared to having nothing, it brought real relief. Buoyed, I pressed on with more confidence.
*
The expedition started in the hold, threading through compartments. Assuming the bridge or captain's quarters held key intel, I headed upward vaguely—and soon reached the top deck, sans the masts.
The deck was predictably unmanaged. Not chaotically strewn, but tidily organized in spots, then abruptly neglected. Survivors must've been here initially after beaching.
Scouring corners yielded nothing useful, unlike the lower holds.
Now, only the highest spot remained—the bridge, obvious captain's domain.
"It's jammed."
The door to the bridge was rickety, rotted through. A shove would open it.
Proceeding without backstory knowledge will reduce available rewards.
Continue? [Yes / No]
An alien warning blared in my ears. I quickly backed away from the door.
...No brainer.
I chose to hold off without hesitation. Why risk rewards when all I had was this cursed body that couldn't even circulate a scrap of inner power?
Max out everything here, and life after escaping this island gets easier.
Last spot done—exploration over.
"Time to head back."
Starting late after snapping to, plus dawdling, meant the sun was dipping toward the horizon. No food or water secured yet—big problem.
The wreck took more time than expected. Disappointing haul; tomorrow, hustle harder. Ignoring my growling stomach, I approached the railing to gaze at the view.
'Huh? What's that?'
A massive, human-like doll seemed to dart along the sandbar's edge. Survivors? No clue if friendly or hostile, so I watched from afar.
"Kiek!"
I flinched at the creepy cry from the "doll." Ducking below the rail, I held my breath.
Maybe I misheard? Peeking cautiously, I spotted it closer: a grotesque lizard-headed, monkey-bodied monster scanning around.
How'd I miss their traces earlier, with it strutting so boldly? The mystery solved fast.
'No footprints?'
No tracks where it passed. Unreal. I rubbed my eyes, looked again—same. Massless lifeform? Beyond common sense, cold sweat beaded as sandbar safety crumbled in my mind.
"For now... hide inside. Deep in a compartment, stay quiet—should be fine."
My trembling voice betrayed doubt, but no better plan. Distance and elevation hid me.
Stepping silently from deck to hold—
Thud, clang!
"Ah, fuck."
The metal lump hit the deck with a dull boom. The cutlass, loosely tied at my waist during movement, had slipped free. Too tense to notice, I'd blown it.
"Who the hell set this game's difficulty?"
My fault this time, but stacked misfortunes made blaming someone inevitable.