[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies":3,"chapter-notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-125":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Notes on Kraft Anomalous Studies",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2283603,4467,"Chapter 125: Omen","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-125",125,"\u003Cp>A deep, endless place without light.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He walked through a corridor with no end, its walls dry, cold, and rough, the darkness thick and solid.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His empty hands held no lantern or torch; his eyes could see nothing, yet he seemed to need no visual guidance—only instinct to move forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A cold current brushed past his ears, originating from infinite depths, strong enough to not stir his clothes yet causing the rock walls to tremble, strata quivering like fallen leaves caught in a frigid flow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Something was approaching; the cold current was its long, slow breath, the vibrations its footsteps.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rock-like scales, a segmented long body, a sentient ridge traversing the utter dark, its power rapidly drawing near, making the rock layers shudder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A structure between valve and claw opened, clinging to countless blurred faces—hill dwellers, sailors, faces burned by acid, warts and blister-like growths clustered in the gaps between rock-shell segments, tiny appendages manipulating flat, pallid smiles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tremors flung loose stones; the cold intensified and surged; fear gripped his heart, squeezing his blood; the sudden rise in blood pressure caused a dull ache behind his eyes; full oxygenation roused his mind from fog, making him aware of his situation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had no time to ponder where he was or why he was here; under no escape, his subconscious triggered a conditioned reflex based on past experience.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Thud!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Furniture shifted; an uncapped ink bottle was knocked over, its slightly sticky black liquid spilling onto the desk, seeping into disordered manuscripts, spreading across the paper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The deep black spread, crawling along the tangled, compressed fibers, swiftly consuming the Gothic-style title, swallowing the introduction, advancing toward the neatly formatted body text.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His newly awakened mind, mid-process during the scene shift, rebooted with content relevant to the present situation—he watched in silence as ink stained a corner of the desk before realizing it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Damn.” Kraft frantically pulled away the remaining papers; in his haste, some ink still damp on one sheet smudged onto fully dried pages, mixing with scattered sheets edged in ink.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The entire desk was a mess; fortunately, the candlestick had long been extinguished, and no fire had ignited the papers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He walked two steps around the table; the old wooden planks creaked faintly beneath his feet, accompanied by a hollow echo, indicating the floor below was a ship’s cabin, not solid rock.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Long wooden cylinders holding rolled nautical charts hung on the walls—this was the captain’s cabin of the Bingshan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had traveled swiftly through the hills for two weeks, returning to the ship under firm orders to set sail. By evening to dusk, double pay brought every sailor back from taverns or beds—no one asked why the captain refused to stay on land even one more night.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Few discussed those who never returned during the hasty departure or busy river voyage; only the first mate habitually called out to the young man named Walker, offering a sip of liquor to the captain who hadn’t left the helm all night.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he felt the indescribable gaze beneath the tricorn hat—like an accusation that he had uttered a maritime taboo, such as “drowned” or “capsized.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A small box was pulled from a hidden compartment and placed on deck; the coins barely covered the bottom in a thin layer, yet their golden metallic sheen drew even Kraft’s attention.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rationally, many sailors could have saved seven kingdom silver coins to exchange for one gold coin, but their spending habits prevented them from hoarding such sums, and their insecurity forbade concentrating all their wealth into a single small object easily lost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For this group, most of whom had never even touched gold, the box’s impact surpassed all else.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After William promised half the coins would go to the crew and the other half would be delivered directly into the hands of the dead’s families, the last lingering objections on deck vanished. From the moment the coins were secured, not even the narrowest seam in the ship would whisper the names that reminded William of those three faces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In their place spread the rumor that the captain had truly found treasure—and such a rumor, which would explode upon landing, was precisely what William needed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>【Honestly, recently I’ve been reading on Yeguo Reading for updates—easy switching of sources, multiple voice options, works on both Android and iOS.】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After boarding, Kraft borrowed the ship’s only two fixed large tables to urgently record the principles of acid production and experimental notes. The other table was in the cook’s hands, used for stews and processing occasional fresh meat catches. Recently, a third use was added: admiring the newly acquired gold coins.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Another dream?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For half a month, that strange forgetfulness had not recurred—or perhaps it had, somewhere no one noticed—seeming only to serve the purpose of fading the wound from his mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But nightmares had become a new nuisance, mostly tied to that night’s experience: unable to find a torch in the mine, fighting limbs emerging from darkness, being chased by something.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The downside of his excellent memory was now clear—he could not quickly forget the dreams upon waking; he would react with lingering terror and endure a torturous stretch of night.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This easily led to “William also had not slept.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After several secondary awakenings, the captain preferred to abandon his comfortable bed in the cabin, temporarily giving the space to Kraft, and moved to share a bunk with the first mate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So now, at night, only Kraft remained here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bright, pale moonlight streamed through the lattice window, spilling across the desk through the semi-translucent curtain; even without candlelight, it was not dim. He flipped through the manuscript in his hands, leaving no impression, yet clearly realizing his half-night’s work had become a pile of waste paper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Terrible. Kraft no longer lit a candle, walked to the bedside, and prepared for a brief nap before resuming work in the morning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He still needed to discuss with William how to use the information they had: build their own production workshop, or sell it for a quick fortune.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The former clearly offered greater long-term monopoly profits, but in reality, they lacked existing industrial infrastructure or reliable personnel, and dared not continue mining from that remote cave in the southern hills—thus both scale and secrecy became problems.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Perhaps placing the workshop on the Wood family’s territory could partially solve the issue, but the technology’s value was too great and its secrecy too poor. Had the alchemist not died quickly, and had the location not been hidden, and had the surviving witnesses not suffered strokes, the technique would have been uncovered sooner or later. That time might not allow them to earn enough from scratch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another problem: William had begun avoiding landfall; only under strong crew pressure had he reluctantly docked once to hastily resupply what had been missed during the hurried departure, and he refused to disembark. This state made managing land-based operations impossible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The latter had no such issues: sell it outright, make a fortune, and if needed, use acquaintances or even the Church as intermediaries or notaries—70-30 split was fine. Take 70% as a windfall, take 30% and still profit greatly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don’t talk about the unique glass-winged ring—just ask the bishop: gold coins or that broken wing? The object belongs to the Church; the money does not.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kraft wanted a large sum of money—for equipment, experiments, publishing books, and even housing patients. If time was limited, money could become the catalyst for everything. William also showed a tendency to acquire a larger, long-term offshore vessel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thinking of this, Kraft rose from the bed, picked up his pen again, tilted the ink bottle, and dipped the nib in the residual ink at the bottom. He laid a half-torn scrap of paper on the desk, intending to list the pros and cons by moonlight, to present directly to William the next day.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sat at the desk, only to find the surface plunged back into darkness—the light band now illuminated the bedside, the candlestick standing in shadow at the window frame.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>【Moonlight, moving】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A tapping came from outside the window, as if a polite sailor on night watch, hearing the noise, had come to inquire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A damp, soft thing clung to the wooden planks, adhering to the impossible sea-sound outside; the light blazed bright. Kraft leapt up in terror, drawing his sword; the sticky memory of malice surged from his tailbone to the back of his skull.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His loosely clenched hand pulled back the sheet; his body shot upright. The room glowed faintly. Behind the pillow lay a rigid bar—the long sword he had placed there before sleeping.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The window stood open; a night breeze, carrying the scent of damp earth and sand, blew into the cabin. Beneath the dim crescent moon, murky yellow water flowed—the unremarkable night scenery of the Tobyde River, their normal passage along the only waterway through the southern hills.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Still a dream?”\u003C\u002Fp>",1487,"2026-06-20T02:15:55.761Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","affe83810a492da6d4d7d36213406d2e449a73b63f786a70f64d21be0f0ec6cc","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-126","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-124",406,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fnotes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-cover.jpg"]