Chapter 593: The Transforming Words
Prit East Coast, Tivyán.
During the day, at the seaside of East Tivyán, the large port remains as lively as ever, with countless ships from various countries docking and departing. The sound of steam whistles echoing from departing ships is incessant, and a throng of passengers bustling on and off the docks is accompanied by workers sweating as they carry heavy loads.
Amid the many ships currently at anchor at the docks, there is a grey passenger ship. This ocean liner, which has arrived from abroad, is now docking by the shore, and the gangway has long been placed against the ship’s side. The waiting passengers, eager to disembark, are now slowly making their way down the gangway onto the dock. They are either travelers arriving in Prit or Prit citizens returning from overseas.
Among the returning citizens, there is a group of brightly dressed young men and women. There are about ten of them, carrying large and small bags as they walk down the tall gangway, chatting and laughing together. Based on the language they are using, it can be inferred that they are all from Prit.
This group of young Prit men and women descend the gangway and consciously gather on the dock, still chatting and glancing at the cruise ship beside them, seemingly waiting for something. At that moment, a few older men appear at the top of the gangway and silently make their way down. They are all dressed appropriately, with the leader being a middle-aged man, his hair graying at the temples, wearing thick glasses and a plaid suit while carrying a bag, exuding a scholarly air.
Once the older men reach the dock, they promptly approach the group of young people. The jovial chatter among the youth ceases, and they stand quietly in a line. The bespectacled man surveys them silently and, satisfied after counting, smiles and nods. Then he speaks.
“Students, welcome home! After being away for over half a year, we finally set foot on our homeland again. I am both happy and grateful. I thank the merciful Lord for allowing us to complete this long journey smoothly. Although there were some risks and crises along the way, luckily everything turned out well in the end. We should be grateful for this smooth journey and for the Lord’s care.”
“Thank the Lord…” The young men and women respond in scattered murmurs. Their responses lack uniformity, and some appear somewhat casual, but the man does not seem to mind. He continues speaking.
“After this long journey and having witnessed so many national landmarks and stories, I believe each of you has gained insights and experiences. Therefore, based on this study abroad trip, you will have some assignments to complete…”
As he speaks, complaints and groans begin to arise from the young audience in response to his words. Yet just as he finishes speaking, he suddenly shifts his tone.
“However, these assignments will officially begin after the school year starts. It is currently summer vacation, and there is still some time left. You can use this period to prepare, and after school starts, we will proceed with the assignments…”
Upon hearing this, the young people’s grumbling abruptly stops and is replaced by cheers. Observing their cheerful reaction, the man laughs lightly and says,
“Alright, that’s enough from me for now. You’re dismissed! Everyone, go home and rest well to recharge for the second half of the academic year. See you, students.”
“Goodbye, Professor Macchison!” they respond, bidding farewell to the man. They then begin to disperse, but just as one girl is about to leave, she is called back by a man named John Macchison.
“By the way, Miss Rodlo, if you have time, please check on Miss Boyle and see how she is managing with her urgent family matters. If she is done, fill her in on the assignments so that she can prepare as well. Her study abroad course has had quite a few absences, so if she has any doubts, she can come to find me. You all know my address.”
“Got it, Mr. Macchison. I’ll go check on her after I get back. Goodbye!” responds Aima Rodlo, Neve’s roommate, as she quickly joins her fellow students and leaves.
Watching them depart, John turns back to chat for a moment with a few colleagues before declining an invitation to a banquet, ultimately leaving as well.
After bidding farewell to his colleagues and students who had traveled for half a year, John lets out a slight breath of relief, readjusts his glasses, and starts to walk away from the bustling dock.
Walking among the crowd at the dock, John strides forward amidst the port workers and groups of travelers. Ahead of him is a multitude of people waiting to greet friends and family. To stand out in the crowd, some greeters are holding up signs with various names, making it easier for those being welcomed to spot their companions from afar and reunite.
Though no one is there to greet John, the signs in the distance continue to sway in front of him, forcing him to read the information displayed on them. Initially, John does not pay much attention, but at one moment, one of the signs suddenly exhibits an unbelievable change.
This is a common welcome sign, held up by an unidentifiable person in the crowd, reading “Mr. Tony Frank, please come this way.” John has no recollection of this unfamiliar name and has no special attention for it. Yet, at a certain moment, the lettering on the sign begins to distort in his eyes.
What was originally a sign reading “Mr. Tony Frank, please come this way” suddenly twists before John’s eyes, letters slithering like snakes, detaching from their original positions and wriggling across the signboard, much like slick black loaches. Observing this strange sight, John’s eyes widen.
However, before he can recover from his astonishment, the “loaches” on the sign have swiftly reassembled, arranging themselves into a new row and forming fresh letters—a new sentence entirely different from the previous content has now materialized before John.
“Professor John Macchison, please stop immediately!”
Startled by seeing his own name on the altered sign ordering him to halt instantly, John’s shock level skyrockets. Almost instinctively, without needing to be warned by the sign, he freezes in place. The next second brings an event far beyond his expectations.
Above where John stands, a heavy steel hook formerly used for hoisting cargo at the dock has eerily shifted into a position over the passing passengers. Suddenly, without warning, the iron chains binding the hook snap, and it plummets straight down with a thunderous crash, landing just half a meter from John and smashing into the dock floor, creating a small crater and countless cracks in the ground.
Watching the deadly hook crash to the ground before him, John stands frozen, while the surrounding startled travelers scream in panic, causing chaos in the vicinity. Port staff on the opposite side notice and rush over to maintain order and disperse the crowd.
“Sir… Sir, are you alright? If you aren’t hurt, please come with us. We’ll handle this,” says a worker, approaching John. Shaken from his stupor due to the unexpected scene, John takes a moment to glance at the heavy hook and shakes his head. Regaining his composure, he follows the staff away from the tumult.
“Thank you for your help…”
John is led away from the chaotic scene alongside other startled travelers. Meanwhile, perched on a steel frame of the dock’s crane, a figure dressed in thick clothing, bundled up, watches the scene below with a furrowed brow, a steel saw placed beside them.
As he is guided by the staff away from the accident site, John takes a few deep breaths to ease his tightened nerves. He can’t help but think that had that peculiar sign not appeared, he might have been struck by that hook. The fact he is still standing here is entirely due to that bizarre sign’s warning.
With that in mind, John turns back to the crowd, hoping to spot the sign that had warned him. Alas, all he sees is a sea of heads, and there is no sign of the warning sign nor the person holding it.
‘Where… where did it go? What was that word? Was it my imagination?’
Finding himself confused, yet somewhat disappointed at the sight before him, John unknowingly allows the dock workers to escort him away from the scene. Just as he and the other startled travelers are brought to an open area, another staff member approaches him with a plate of small cakes.
“Dear ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the incident earlier, which was our oversight, and for the fright it caused you. As a token of our apology, please enjoy these cakes and relax a little,” the staff member says, presenting the plate before the crowd. Several quick-handed travelers immediately grab one, and soon only two remain. At that moment, as John’s gaze lands on the plate, he notices a familiar sight.
On the edge of the elegant plate, the decorative patterns suddenly spring to life, resembling the letters he’d seen on that sign, transforming into twisting loaches that rearrange themselves into new words and sentences, materializing right in front of John’s eyes.
“Don’t eat the last one.”
Reading this message, John freezes, realizing there are only two cakes left, with the one on the left being reached for by another traveler. If the traveler takes that one, only one will remain for him.
After the earlier incident, John instinctively heeds the warning from the plate, swiftly snatching the second-to-last cake just before it can be taken by someone else. Then he turns to the crowd and bids them farewell.
“Thank you for the treat. I have some things to attend to, so I’ll be leaving…”
With that, John departs, clutching the cake. The traveler who was about to take the last one looks at the plate, frowning slightly, casting a serious glance at John’s departing figure.
Having distanced himself from the staff, John picks up his pace, quickly heading away from the dock. As he passes a trash bin, he tosses the cake in and continues to hastily move forward. At this moment, he senses something is off in the atmosphere. He is eager to leave as quickly as possible.
‘Something feels wrong here… I need to get out fast!’
Thus, John keeps up his hurried pace, soon exiting the dock and heading toward a taxi stand, ready to leave the port area. Just as he walks along the street leading to the taxi stand, a signpost around the corner suddenly starts to change. Similar to earlier, its unrelated strokes reformulate before John’s eyes, assembling into a new sentence.
“Before you reach this sign, stop for a moment.”
Seeing the miraculous words reappear, John instinctively follows the instruction and halts in front of the sign. No sooner had he stopped than a runaway carriage comes hurtling around the corner from a blind spot, speeding onto the sidewalk. The out-of-control carriage whizzes past him with a screech, a gust of wind blowing through John’s face, sending chills down his spine.
Standing rooted to the ground, John gazes at the carriage, which barely missed him. It crashes into the street beside him, sending people and horses sprawling in chaos. Many innocent bystanders caught in the aftermath sustain significant injuries. Imagining being struck if he hadn’t stopped, panic courses through him.
“What… is happening here…?”
Witnessing this scene, John feels an unnamable fear arise within him. He has only been on Tivyán’s land for a matter of minutes, yet he has narrowly avoided danger multiple times. Without those strange warnings, he can’t fathom what may have happened to him.
This surreal situation gives John a sense of mounting urgency. He maintains a composed demeanor, tightening his grip on his suitcase. His gaze sweeps around, wary, as he senses danger lurking in every corner, his anxious heart racing.
Though John does not yet understand the exact nature of his circumstances, he knows he needs to leave the area quickly—he must escape!
Just as he prepares to move on, he hears the sound of hooves approaching nearby. Turning to defend himself, he spots a common taxi slowly rolling towards him along the road, stopping in front of him. The coachman, Ka, glances towards the scene of the accident, his expression curious.
“Oh dear… What happened? This carriage is in such a disheveled state; what carelessness!”
The young coachman remarks as he looks back at the cautious John. He then smiles and adds,
“By the way, sir, are you waiting for a taxi? If so, hop in! I can take you anywhere in the city!”
Ka says to John. Still rattled by the prior events, John initially hesitates to accept the coachman’s offer, yet his attention is drawn to the sight on the taxi door.
On that old taxi door, the dense scratches suddenly come alive, twisting and rearranging themselves into a simple message.
“Get in.”
