VIP Volume Chapter 34: The Light Without a Lamp

The bosun pulled a box of cigarettes from the drawer, passed them around, lit one, and took a satisfied puff. He laughed and said, "I say, everyone in this village has the guts of a mouse. They speak of Great Immortal Lake as if it were some terrifying place, making it sound like hell. But here we are, perfectly fine!"

The chief engineer snorted, watching Ye Xiaoxuan walk back. "With their little wooden boats, it’s no wonder they couldn’t handle what just happened. Their fear is justified!"

Ye Xiaoxuan rushed to the lookout window, gazing at the faintly reddening waters ahead, and spoke to the captain, "Quick, stop the boat and turn off all the lights. If we make no sound and show no light, we might just survive this ordeal!"

The group exchanged bewildered glances, then burst into hearty laughter. The bosun strode over, cigarette dangling from his lips, squinting at Ye Xiaoxuan. "Kid, you must be out of your mind. The waves have passed, we’re safe now, understand? I wonder why you villagers are so timid—country bumpkins who've never seen the world!"

Ye Xiaoxuan grew anxious, clenching his fists. "Listen, it’s not that we’re cowardly, but you underestimate the power of Great Immortal Lake! What we just experienced was only an appetizer—the real danger is yet to come! Do as I say, or not a soul on this ship will survive!"

The bosun, knowing Ye Xiaoxuan’s reputation in the village, pushed him contemptuously. "I’ve no patience for your nonsense! Stand aside. I’ve drunk more seawater than you’ve drunk clean water! What do you think this is—a monster? Turning off lights and engines—do you suppose the storm has eyes? Let me tell you—"

His words were cut short as the entire ship suddenly jolted violently, as if it had struck a reef.

Everyone cried out in shock. Ye Xiaoxuan banged his head against the instrument panel, shook himself, and stood up again. The bosun, however, was not so lucky; he crashed headfirst into the control panel, smashing it and getting wedged inside. Sparks flew, and his body convulsed as he was electrocuted, causing a short circuit—the entire instrument panel went dark.

Without hesitation, Ye Xiaoxuan grabbed the bosun’s legs. The chief engineer, just regaining his balance, shouted, "Careful, the current!"

Ye Xiaoxuan recoiled in fright, but felt no electric shock, so he pulled harder, though the body didn’t budge. He called to a nearby sailor, "Come help!"

Seeing Ye Xiaoxuan unharmed, the sailor assumed the power was off. He grabbed one of the bosun’s legs but was immediately jolted, as if kicked, and fell to the floor foaming at the mouth.

Everyone was terrified. The captain shouted, "Don’t get close, he’s electrified!"

Even as he spoke, the ship suddenly leapt like a startled rabbit, then crashed back onto the water. Beneath the surface ahead, a brilliant red glow erupted, as though the entire lake were gasoline suddenly ignited.

Fortunately, after all this chaos, the bosun was finally pulled free. His face was covered in blood, his head charred like a lump of coal, as if fresh from a microwave—still steaming slightly. But beneath his nose, no breath stirred.

"The Light Without Lanterns! The legendary Light Without Lanterns!" The captain stared at the crimson glow ahead, eyes wide with terror.

Everywhere the eye could see was blazing red—the sky burned like the bottom of a scorched cauldron, and the lake below was a vast vat of oil, filled with flaming kerosene, dazzling and horrifying.

Then, something even more astonishing happened. The once calm lake surface suddenly rose, like a giant curtain pulled up by an elevator, ascending visibly. Massive currents formed swirling vortices; tires and ropes that had fallen into the lake during the ship’s tremor, anything still afloat, spun and were drawn toward the whirlpools.

"Reverse! Hard to port! Or we'll be sucked in!" The captain was the first to react, shouting at everyone. The first mate rushed to help turn the helm, but despite their efforts, the ship wouldn’t respond—it drifted steadily toward the fiery glow.

"The helm isn’t responding!"

"The propeller’s dead!"

"The engine’s dead!"

One disaster after another exploded over their heads. Everyone knew that when a ship loses power while underway, it becomes a headless fly, helpless and doomed—even if a cliff lies ahead, they must watch as they plunge over.

At the lookout window, all eyes were stained red by the fiery scene outside. The rising lake formed a colossal wall of fire—streams of burning oil poured downward as it climbed higher and higher, reaching the height of a ten-story building, yet remaining upright.

The five-hundred-ton fisheries enforcement vessel, beneath this watery wall, was like a grain of rice floating in a bowl—utterly insignificant and pitiable.

Even the chief engineer, a veteran of twenty years at sea, was petrified by the spectacle; the young sailors fared worse, some trembling so violently that they soiled themselves.

In front of the fire wall, countless black dots appeared, darting within. It seemed the flames were merely the color of the lake, not true fire.

Those black dots were the sea eagles glimpsed earlier, but now their numbers had multiplied, gathering overhead and cawing raucously.

On the lake, whirlpools formed everywhere, gaping like greedy mouths, merging and devouring, soon creating a massive hole in the water, its dark maw waiting for the drifting ship.

The fire wall surged forward with the whirlpools, advancing toward the vessel. The fiery lake tossed up blue-white spray, casting a strange, eerie light.

Looking closer, the blue-white splashes were intertwined schools of man-eating knifefish, each several meters long, some reaching over ten meters. They raised their triangular heads, baring rows of sharp teeth, struggling against the pull of the whirlpool, but the force was too strong. The monstrous knifefish were dragged into the waterhole, some torn apart by the relentless current.

More astonishing still, the sea eagles overhead were entranced, gradually drawn toward the whirlpools. It became clear—they weren’t flying here willingly, but attracted by the fiery glow and now trapped by the air currents of the whirlpools. Flapping desperately, they plunged into the whirlpool, now as large as a football field.

Everyone was struck dumb with fear. In the grip of such a colossal whirlpool, all the ship’s equipment was useless. No matter how advanced, inside the vortex, it would be reduced to scrap metal.

The captain collapsed behind the control panel, staring at the approaching wall of fire. Regret swept over him—why had he ignored the villagers and Ye Xiaoxuan’s warnings, insisting on venturing onto Great Immortal Lake at night? This place was indeed more terrifying than hell, and for himself and his crew, there seemed no hope of escape.