Grand Voyage: I Start My Journey With A Ghost Ship!

He didn't know what to make of it, this thing in his hands. It felt less like a knife and more like a moral compass with a razor-sharp edge. Holding it, he felt the precarious balance of his own sanity. A single slip, a moment of weakness, and he might find himself developing a taste for… alternative protein sources. It was, without a doubt, the most dangerous relic he owned.
"The potions are ready," Suna announced, handing him a crate filled with 104 bottles of inky black liquid.
"Good. Go get some rest. I'll handle the prep work," Yang Yi told her.
"Do you need help?"
"No, I think I've got it covered," he said with a wry smile. 

"I'm worried you might eat all the ammunition." He didn't tell her the real reason. He didn't tell her that the sweet, cloying aroma rising from the marinated meat was starting to chip away at his Sanity. His own mental fortitude was high enough to withstand it, but Suna… Suna, with her perpetually dwindling Sanity meter, might just snap and decide to have a little picnic.
Once she was gone, he got to work. He crafted a simple wooden bucket and poured in the ten liters of [Spider-Bane Potion]. Then, piece by piece, he dunked the cloth-wrapped bundles of rotting meat into the toxic marinade, a grotesque baptism. He laid them out to dry, 462 perfectly portioned, poison-soaked projectiles of death. The bucket was bone dry by the time he was finished.
He glanced at the weather forecast. Two hours until dawn. He needed sleep, but he knew it would be a thin, restless thing.
As it turned out, he was right. He dreamt.
It wasn't a narrative. It was a feeling, a presence. A spider so colossal that the very concept of measurement became meaningless. It was like trying to describe the size of the sky. When he tried to focus on the image in his waking mind, a sharp, splitting headache lanced through his skull, and he had to fight back a wave of nausea.
"So, there's something like that on the island?" The thought filled him with a cold dread. His resolve hardened. Every last one of them had to die.
His energy was low, but today wasn't the day for a full-scale invasion. It was a day for catering. The [Nyxstar], still towing the captured galleon like a tired parent, chugged its way to within fifty nautical miles of the shore. Along the way, he managed to catch three more [Coral Cage Fish], which he promptly sent down to Suna for future potion-making.
He hauled the 462 parcels of "gourmet food" onto the deck. 
"Special delivery!" he chuckled, loading the first one into a catapult.
The catapults worked beautifully. A one-pound bundle of poisoned meat sailed a good four hundred meters before crashing into the jungle. It wasn't deep, but he knew the smell would do the rest. The spiders would come to him. The flimsy cloth wrapping would tear on impact, creating a nice little buffet for the local wildlife.
After a dozen launches, he heard it. A rustling in the trees. Something big was moving.
"We have their attention."
He steered the [Nyxstar] around the island, changing his angle of attack, methodically peppering the coastline with his toxic care packages. The pile of ammunition dwindled quickly. As he rounded to the other side of the island, he saw them.
They were pouring out of the jungle.
They came in all sizes, from scurrying, palm-sized horrors to loping, one-meter-tall nightmares on spindly legs. The sight made his skin crawl. And then he saw it. The special one.
It was three meters tall, and impaled on its head, like a grotesque hood ornament, was a desiccated human torso. No head, no limbs. Just a torso.
[You have witnessed an Abnormal ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) Creature. Sanity -5]
"What in the absolute fuck… is that?"