Exploring the Wrecked Ship Hue Elrofun
I circle around the edges of the ship, which turns out to be far larger than I expected, searching for an entrance. Normally, I'd need a ladder or something to climb up to the higher decks, but with no such equipment in sight, I'll have to get creative.
On the starboard side near the stern, there's a massive dent like it slammed into something. At its center is a huge hole—looks like that's what dragged this vessel onto the island.
"I can get in through here."
The hole is bigger than it looked, making it easy to slip inside.
Gripping the edges to avoid slipping, I venture deeper, and a heavy, musty smell assaults my nose. I wrinkle my face and pinch my nostrils against the unfamiliar stench when suddenly an alien screen overlays my vision, bewildering my senses even further.
'The Lost Shipwreck'
An ordinary uninhabited island in the South Sea of the Central Plains. This place, teeming with horrific monsters that only appear at night, proved too difficult to subdue and was abandoned. Now, even seasoned fishermen avoid it.
The Hue Elrofun, a Spanish vessel from the Iberian Peninsula that set sail from Luzon for clandestine trade with the Dongin (Japan), evading Central Plains oversight. Caught in a typhoon, it ran aground and drifted here. Despite frantic searches by many back home, its fate remained unknown, and it faded from memory.
Just like in a game, it provides background on the current location along with tiny hints that might help in clearing it. The text fades away as I finish reading, vanishing from view. It's a sight that's hard to comprehend even seeing it with my own eyes.
This guidance screen never appeared before I recognized my possession. Only after realizing this is a game world does 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 calls it an uninhabited island, saving me the effort of investigating. The problems, though, are the immediate threats like "horrific monsters that only appear at night" and that ominous line implying "many searched for the ship but bore no fruit"—as if hinting my own future might end the same way. It sparks dark thoughts.
Still, I can't let go of hope entirely, and there's a reason for that.
'Hidden Stage'—in other words, a stroke of fortune. Was there one like this in the original story? The question pops up, but given the game's vast world, I shrug it off. The setup feels a bit sloppy, that's all.
What matters is encountering a stroke of fortune. This game excels in one thing: unlike others that hand out fortunes like candy, it emphasizes their rarity. Some players reran the game multiple times without finding one and complained, but I always thought that was true to the concept.
Maybe there's a way here to fix this body's Absolute Pulse issue? Hopeful thoughts start churning. Strokes of fortune are hard to find with tough clear conditions, but the rewards are guaranteed solid. Even without a fix, there'd be plenty of treasure.
The map name alone inspires trust. Shipwrecks are said to hold vast treasures, mostly sunken ones, but surely there's something decent here?
With such musings, I wander the surprisingly spacious interior.
Luckily, the ship washed ashore on a sunny sandy beach, so the internal damage isn't too bad. I step confidently, exploring the hold and fixtures bit by bit.
◈ Unlike other barrels with contents, it's light and intact.
◈ Severely damaged; irreparable.
◈ Soaked and ruined; cannot be used.
◈ Coated in wax and resin; contents intact.
◈ Poeder voor 6-ponds kanonnen -50lb.
The hold is littered with powder kegs and sacks stained with unidentifiable black gunk. Climbing higher on the footholds, I'm greeted by rusted cannons and moldy grain sacks. I set aside anything that looks usable.
What to call these spoils of exploration? They're far from wuxia fare, but they'll come in handy someday.
'Matchlock, huh.'
I pick up a matchlock from an open weapons crate—metal rusted, wood rotted. I pull the trigger.
Click!
As expected, it jams despite my effort. Confirming it's useless, I smack my lips in disappointment.
Fits the era, though. Ming and Joseon had advanced firearms. But in this game world? Not great against superhumans who dash 100 meters in 5 seconds, fly, and shoot sword qi while wielding heavy blades. Forget assault rifles; a matchlock won't cut it.
With a sigh of regret, I toss the rusty gun aside and grab a "cutlass" instead—a lumpy metal lump. No expert, but it was probably a sword once. Now more club than blade, but better than nothing. I swing it a few times like a mace and tuck it at my waist.
It's crap, but beats being unarmed. Feeling more confident, I press on with my search.
*
The exploration starts in the hold, passing through compartments. Assuming the bridge or captain's cabin holds key info, I head upward vaguely. Before I know it, I've reached the top deck, excluding the masts.
The deck's a mess, as expected—no maintenance. Not chaotically strewn, though; corners show deliberate tidying, but it stops abruptly, like cleaning ceased at some point.
Probably survivors right after beaching. I scour every nook, but unlike below, nothing useful turns up.
Now, only the bridge ahead—the highest point, obvious captain's quarters. I halt before it.
"Rotted through."
The door to the bridge is rickety, ready to give with a push.
Proceeding without backstory knowledge will reduce rewards.
Continue? [Yes / No]
The intrusive alert rings in my ears, and I hastily back away from the door.
...No brainer.
I decide against it without hesitation. Why risk rewards when all I have is this cursed body that can't even circulate qi?
I need to hoard everything possible here; it'll ease life after escaping this island. With this the last spot, exploration ends.
"Time to head back."
I started late—mental fog and dawdling—and now the sun dips below the horizon. No food or water yet. Big problem. The ship took longer than expected. Disappointing haul; tomorrow, hustle harder. Ignoring my growling stomach, I approach the rail to gaze at the view.
'Huh? What's that?'
Something like a giant doll—humanoid?—darts along the beach outskirts. A survivor? Can't tell if friendly or hostile, so I watch from afar.
"Kiek!"
I flinch at the eerie cry from the "doll" and duck below the rail, holding my breath.
Did I mishear? Peeking cautiously, I see it closer: a grotesque monster with a lizard head on a monkey body, head swiveling as it scans.
How did I miss their traces earlier while they roam so boldly? The mystery solves quickly.
'No footprints?'
No tracks where it passed. Unreal. I rub my eyes, but it's real. Does it lack mass? Outside my common sense, cold sweat drips. Maybe this "safe" beach isn't safe.
"For now, inside. Hide deep in a compartment; should be fine."
My trembling voice betrays doubt, but no better option. Distance and elevation hide me.
As I quietly retreat from the deck toward the hold—
Thud, clang!
"Ah, shit."
The metal lump hits the deck with a dull boom. The cutlass, loosely tied, slipped its weight. Too tense to notice, I screwed up.
"Who set this game difficulty?"
My fault this time, but piling misfortunes make me blame someone else.