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

“You want me to kill you?”
Yang Yi was taken aback.
He hadn’t expected that after all that talk, the witch’s real intention was… to die?
“Yes.” Roniette confirmed again.
“The moment I became a mind devourer, I gave my life a deadline.
Before I consume my fifth human brain… I must end myself.”
Roniette raised the measuring cylinder and drank the liquor inside.
No one knew how long it had been stored—it had turned cloudy—but the aroma was still rich and heavy.
She went on, her tone calm and deliberate.
“Not every living thing has the courage to end its own life.
Especially intelligent, long-lived species. They’re terrified of death.
Mind devourers are one of those.”
“It’s a powerful, cunning species—one that hardly even ages.
They prefer to nest inside the skulls of hosts, wearing their faces to approach prey,
then seize the chance to devour their brains—or reproduce…”
Roniette spoke from a detached, academic perspective,
as if describing a creature completely unrelated to herself—
even though she was one.
But Yang Yi understood her meaning perfectly.
She was terrified of dying, yet too proud to admit it.
So she wanted him to do it for her.
“I’m a scholar… and a human being.
At least for now, I still believe I am human.
Even if I… very much want to eat your brain.”
As she said this, her tentacles twitched restlessly.
One of them was hollow—like a straw.
That must be the one she used to feed on brains.
Not long ago, that same tentacle had tried to bore into Yang Yi’s skull.
Roniette seemed unaware of her body’s agitation and continued speaking.
“One year from now—or ten—as I consume more and more brains,
my mind will change.
I’ll start to believe I’m a proud mind devourer,
and that humans are nothing more than lowly livestock.
It’s inevitable—a gradual corruption of thought.
When that happens, I’ll stand on the opposite side of truth itself.
That’s something I can never allow.
So I’ve set a limit on my life…”
Her thoughts flowed directly into Yang Yi’s mind.
He hesitated for a moment, then took the measuring cylinder and drained it in one gulp.
After that, he stood up.
The small motion made all of Roniette’s tentacles tense at once.
Scythe-like blades swung wildly before him,
even the straw-like tentacle writhing forward,
as though it might stab into his temple at any second.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “That’s an involuntary reflex of the mind devourer’s body. I can’t control it.”
Because of the neural link, Yang Yi could feel every emotion inside her—
the tension, panic, fear, hesitation…
and beneath it all, the cold weight of reason.
Ignoring the thrashing tentacles, he began searching the ground.
Soon he recovered his flintlock, and the Sea Serpent’s Fang that had fallen into the woods.
While picking them up, a few tentacle-blades grazed him,
leaving shallow cuts beaded with blood.

“Where do you want to be buried?” Yang Yi asked suddenly.
“In the sacred reliquary. There’s no finer coffin than that.
And if you hand it to the Radiant Church afterward,
it might quiet those fanatics for a while.”
“Then are you ready?”
Yang Yi looked at /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ her—one weapon in each hand,
both aimed close to her head.
“There are two ways to die. Which do you prefer?”
“The flintlock, that—!@#！@￥！@！”
The neural signal suddenly went haywire—
a jumble of meaningless static.
Roniette's hollow eyes widened slightly in surprise.
Because Yang Yi had already struck.
His right hand moved in a blur—
the Sea Serpent’s Fang pierced her temple and sank to the hilt.
It happened so fast, between one breath and the next,
that she never even had time to feel fear.
Thick, dark-purple fluid leaked from her nostrils.
Her tentacles writhed madly,
wrapping around Yang Yi’s head like a drowning creature’s last grasp,
carving bloody welts across his face.
A few seconds later, the strength drained from them,
and they fell limp.
Yang Yi pulled the blade free.
He had already stopped thinking while retrieving his weapons—
his mind a still pond, empty of thought or emotion.
Only at the final instant did he let the intent to kill surface—
a single flash of will that struck without warning.
In just ten minutes, he had learned how to hide his true thoughts on the mental level:
simply don’t think at all.
So by the time Roniette realized what he was doing,
it was too late even to feel afraid.
When it was over, Yang Yi received her data.
[Name: Roniette (Mind Devourer)]
[Description: A witch transformed into a mind devourer.
An apostate hunted by the Radiant Church.
Can be used in the Monster Gacha Machine or turned in to the Church for a high reward.
She bears a holy mark that can be sensed by nearby church forces.
Mind Devourer: An extremely dangerous creature that feeds on brains and reproduces through parasitism.
Grows weak and ravenous if deprived of brains for long.
Highly adept at psychic magic.]
Expressionless, Yang Yi began the dissection.
After her death, his sight vanished again—
blind once more.
He could only work by touch and memory,
crudely sawing away at the head fused to his left shoulder.
It took him nearly two minutes to separate Roniette completely.
The effect of this Limb Restoration Technique… was hard to describe.
The spell took about a minute to complete, consuming 10 sanity points—
not something suitable for combat use.
Strictly speaking, it was more of a field-repair spell.
Yang Yi fished a long-legged sardine out of his pocket,
used it to open his Gluttonous Stomach,
and retrieved a bottle of Regeneration Potion from inside.
He drank it down.
A fierce itching surged through his body,
so strong he wanted to rub himself against the wall.
He barely managed to restrain himself,
but the commotion wasn’t small.
Checking his status panel, he focused on his sanity—
32 points remaining.
“Good. No further contamination.”
He exhaled in relief.
The earlier invasion, plus the flesh-altering spells,
had already cost him plenty of sanity.
But as long as it stayed above ten,
it was within the safe range.
Just as he relaxed, about to call Suna to pick him up—
a noise echoed through the wreckage of the giant ship.
“Who’s there?”
A soft female voice called out.
Someone else?
Yang Yi stiffened.
Then he remembered—Zhou Dai, the missing survivor.
If anyone was still alive here,
it had to be her.
The ship had collapsed, yet she’d survived—
her luck was remarkable.
But her appearance might not be a good thing.
Yang Yi was blind now, unable to see a thing.
If Zhou Dai mistook him for an enemy,
that would be… bad.
Thinking quickly, he decided to defuse any chance of conflict—
to calm the tension before it started.
So he boldly revealed his identity.
“I’m Yang Yi, captain of the Nyxstar!” he called back.
“Yang Yi?” Zhou Dai repeated.
“That’s right. Who are you?” he asked.
Zhou Dai frowned.
The name was familiar—
they’d done two trades before, even added each other as friends.
In her impression, Yang Yi was a tough one—
always injured,
liked hunting aberrations,
and sold useful gear.
But she didn’t take his word immediately.
Instead, she opened her chat interface,
sent him a private message—
and saw his earlier texts.
There were two.
One from a few days ago:
“Want to buy a tinder-wool sweater?”
And one from this morning:
“Need any stone or lumber?”
After reading them, Zhou Dai sent a new message.
“Are you on the island?
I just met someone claiming to be Yang Yi, captain of the Nyxstar. Is that really you?”
“Of course it’s me!” came his voice from nearby.
With that, both sides confirmed each other’s identity.
The tension instantly dropped by half.