Ghost Captain and Cursed Doll

Captain Duncan of the Lost Homeland sat across the broad Navigation Table from the cursed doll Alice.

The atmosphere between the two of them—though perhaps neither could truly be called human—was far from harmonious.

The doll who called herself "Alice" still looked somewhat nervous. Although the Ghost Captain before her had promised her temporary safety, even a Cursed Doll clearly could not settle down beneath Duncan's naturally intimidating face.

At that moment, she sat primly atop the lid of her coffin, but the fingers secretly clenched around the hem of her skirt betrayed her unease.

Duncan, meanwhile, remained silent for the moment, observing this... "Lady" before him as he thought.

A doll driven by some unknown power; a "supernatural entity" that was plainly not made of flesh and blood, yet could speak, walk, and even possessed a certain body temperature—back in his hometown, this would have ended up on a science mystery program, and at least filled three and a half episodes.

Duncan did not know what sort of existence a doll like Alice was in this world, but during the past few days with Goat Head, he had indirectly learned some information. He knew that while Supernatural Phenomena existed in this world, all manner of extraordinary things were hardly commonplace, and this Miss Doll before him...

Duncan guessed that even in this bizarre and abnormal world, she should count as some kind of special existence.

His guess was not baseless—the mechanically powered ship that had collided head-on with the Lost Homeland was very new, and it had a well-trained crew. He had seen with his own eyes that, despite being gripped by immense terror, many sailors aboard that vessel had remained at their posts. The ship also contained many compartments and objects whose purposes he could not make out. Many of those objects bore intricate rune-like markings, and the style of those markings was extremely similar to the symbols on the surface of Alice's "Coffin"...

In other words, the purpose of such an advanced ship's voyage had most likely been to escort... or rather, "transport under guard," Alice, this Cursed Doll.

Duncan adjusted his posture in his chair and looked at Alice with an easy yet solemn gaze—there was no doubt that his ship had gained a remarkable "guest."

But from another angle, this Miss Doll did not seem all that frightening. She appeared rather timid, in fact.

After all, when they had first met, before he had even said anything, she had scared her own head clean off.

"Excuse me..." Perhaps the pressure of Duncan's prolonged silence and stare had become too much, for Alice finally could not help speaking. "And..."

"Where did you come from?" Duncan finally withdrew that rather oppressive gaze and asked in a relatively mild tone.

Alice was visibly stunned, as if trying to process the meaning of Duncan's question. Only after a few seconds did she lightly tap the ornate wooden box beneath her with a finger. "From here."

Duncan's expression instantly stiffened slightly. "..."

"Of course I know you were lying in this box before," he said after coughing twice. "But I'm asking where you came from—a place, understand? Do you have a hometown? Or somewhere that could be called a point of departure?"

Alice thought carefully again, then shook her head with complete frankness. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember?"

"How could a doll have a hometown?" Alice placed her hands neatly atop her lap and answered with dignity and seriousness. "Most of my memories are of lying in this box. I lay inside it while people transported me from one place to another. Occasionally, I could vaguely sense people walking around outside or standing guard... Ah, I also remember some quiet conversations. Those people guarding the outside of my wooden box discussed certain matters in frightened, nervous voices..."

Duncan raised a brow. "Discussed certain matters? What did they talk about around you?"

"Just some boring trivialities."

"But now I'm curious," Duncan said earnestly. He believed they might truly have been boring trivialities, but he desperately needed to understand this world by every means possible. Even the noisy chatter of ordinary people in this world would do.

"...All right. The thing I heard most often was a designation: Anomaly 099. They seemed to use it to refer to me and my wooden box, but I don't like it much. I have a name," Alice said as she recalled. "Besides that, I occasionally heard them talking about seals and curses, but most of it has become hazy. When I was inside the box, I slept. I did not pay much attention to what was happening outside."

The doll spoke unhurriedly, then seemed to recall something suddenly and added, "But I do remember what I heard most recently. That should have been before I came aboard your ship. The voices talking outside the wooden box frequently mentioned a place, the Pland City-State. That seemed to be their destination... and perhaps mine as well?"

"The Pland City-State?" Duncan lowered his gaze and silently committed the name to memory.

At last, he had learned another useful piece of information, though he had no idea when it might come in handy.

Then he raised his head and looked once more at the Miss Doll before him. "What else?"

"Other than that, I spent most of my time sleeping, Captain," Miss Doll said with utmost seriousness. "When you are sealed inside a large box like a Coffin, while drowsy whispers keep slipping into your ears from all around, what else can you do but sleep? Sit-ups in a coffin?"

The corner of Duncan's mouth twitched.

She had graceful bearing, and when her head was not falling off, she was an elegant beauty. Yet in reality, she could not only ride the winds and waves atop a coffin lid, but also suddenly blurt out such suffocating nonsense.

He swiftly formed a new impression of Miss Alice in his mind.

On the surface, however, he maintained the composed and imposing image of Captain Duncan. He merely gave a noncommittal hum before continuing, "So aside from drifting in and out of sleep inside that wooden box, you know nothing whatsoever about the outside world. You can neither tell me how this world has changed, nor tell me the precise location of any port or city-state."

"I'm afraid that is so, Captain," Miss Doll nodded seriously. Then, as if something had suddenly occurred to her, her eyes widened slightly as she looked at Duncan in considerable alarm. "So... are you planning to throw me off the ship again? Because I'm no longer of any value?"

Before Duncan could speak, Alice immediately continued, "All right, I understand. This is your ship, after all, but could you not stuff cannonballs into the box this time? Seriously... eight cannonballs was a little excessive..."

It was clear that Miss Doll was not in a very good mood—though she did not quite dare to show it.

Duncan was also extremely embarrassed. His main embarrassment came from the fact that when he had stuffed cannonballs into the box, he had never considered that he might later need to calmly discuss the matter with the person involved. Back then, he had regarded the Alice lying in the box as a standard horror-movie Cursed Doll, and every image in his mind had followed that sort of logic... How could he have imagined that this Cursed Doll had not stepped out of a ghost story, but out of a neighborhood sitcom?

Thus, all the preparations he had made early on to combat a terrifying curse had now become embarrassing.

Fortunately, Duncan had a fairly thick skin, and that grave, sinister face seemed carved into place by blade and axe. So long as his nerves did not short-circuit, he could still keep his composure. He therefore forcibly ignored the awkwardness caused by the eight cannonballs and merely shook his head calmly. "I have not decided whether to throw you off the ship. After all, you seem to have a way of returning to it every time. I am simply curious—why must you keep returning to the Lost Homeland? It is obvious that you are wary of both me and this ship. If so, why not stay away from this danger?"

"This ship is called the Lost Homeland? All right, I am indeed a little... afraid of you and your ship. But compared to that, isn't the depths of the sea even more dangerous?" Miss Doll quietly watched the Ghost Captain before her. In her vision, behind the tall man stretched an endless expanse of dim nothingness. That darkness overlapped with the real scene within the cabin, as though two worlds had been forcibly superimposed. Yet compared to that vast, suffocating shadow of nothingness, the things from even "deeper" within the Boundless Sea made her, Anomaly 099, feel far more endangered. "In this world, is there anything more terrifying than the deep sea?"

Good grief!