The Captain of the Lost Homeland

This was not the first time Zhou Ming had passed through this door to reach "the other side."

Several days ago, Zhou Ming had woken to find himself trapped in his room by some kind of "anomaly," while a strange, dense fog had obscured the entire world. That was when he discovered this bizarre place on the other side of the door.

After all, that door was now the only exit from his "room."

He still remembered the confusion and helplessness he had felt when he first pushed open the door and found a deck outside. He remembered even more clearly the shock and panic of looking down and seeing that he had changed bodies. But afterward, in search of a way out of his predicament, he had boldly conducted several successful explorations of this side. Though he still had no idea what had happened to him, nor what exactly this strange ship outside his "bedroom door" was, he had at least gained some experience and a preliminary understanding of the vessel.

As on his previous visits, Zhou Ming forced himself to shake off the dizziness caused by passing through the door as quickly as possible. Then, he immediately checked the condition of this body. He inspected the pistol in his hand, comparing every detail against his memories, and finally confirmed that the items he carried were identical to when he had last left the deck.

...It seemed my body switched over seamlessly every time I passed through this door... If only I could place a camera on this side of the deck. Then I could confirm whether this body changes when I push open the Captain's Cabin door and return to my apartment...

Unfortunately, items from the two "worlds" can't pass through the door, so there's no way to bring a camera over...

Still, the phone in my apartment recorded what happened when I passed through the door from that side. I really did walk through that black fog... So did my body really "change" into this form while passing through the fog?

Zhou Ming muttered to himself. He knew that standing on the deck and talking to himself probably looked rather ridiculous to an outsider, but he needed to make some noise. On this empty, eerie ghost ship... he needed some proof that he was still "alive."

A briny sea breeze swept across the deck, stirring the dark blue-black captain's coat of unknown material on his body. Zhou Ming sighed softly, but instead of walking toward the deck, he turned to look at the door behind him.

He placed his hand on the doorknob.

If he turned the handle and pushed the door inward, he would see a dense gray-black fog. Passing through it would take him back to the studio apartment where he had lived for many years.

He tightened his grip and yanked the door outward.

The heavy Oak Door creaked open. Beyond it was a dimly lit cabin. In the faint, shadowy light, he could see exquisite tapestries hanging on the walls, shelves lined with ornaments, and a broad Navigation Table in the center of the room. Another small door stood at the very back, with a wine-red carpet laid before it.

Push the door open, and he would return to his studio apartment. Pull it open, and there was the Captain's Cabin—and the latter was clearly the ship's "normal facility."

Zhou Ming stepped into the Captain's Cabin. As he passed through the doorway, he habitually glanced to the left—a mirror as tall as a man was fixed to the wall beside him, clearly reflecting Zhou Ming's current appearance.

He was a tall man with thick black hair and a dignified short beard. His deep-set eyes and stern features alone gave him an imposing presence. He appeared to be over forty, yet his valiant looks and intensely oppressive gaze seemed to blur that sense of age. The finely tailored captain's uniform only further emphasized the special status of the man in the mirror.

Zhou Ming rolled his neck, then made a face at the mirror. He considered himself an easygoing, friendly person, and the image in the mirror truly did not suit his temperament. But he quickly gave up on the attempt, because he felt that instead of looking friendlier, his reflection had gone from a dignified captain to something more like a psychopathic serial killer...

As Zhou Ming made those movements, a faint series of clacking sounds came from the Navigation Table. Entirely unsurprised, he looked toward the source and saw a wooden goat-head sculpture on the table slowly turning its face toward him. The lifeless block of wood seemed to come alive at that moment, its Obsidian eyes embedded in its wooden face staring gloomily in his direction.

The memory of his panic upon first witnessing this eerie scene flashed through his mind, but Zhou Ming merely curled his lips. He walked over to the Navigation Table, while the wooden goat head slowly turned its neck to follow him. A hoarse, gloomy voice emerged from its wooden cavity. "Name?"

"Duncan," Zhou Ming answered calmly. "Duncan Abnormall."

The wooden goat head's voice instantly changed from hoarse and gloomy to warm and friendly. "Good morning, Captain! I am delighted to see that you still remember your name. How are you feeling today? How is your health today? Did you sleep well last night? I hope you had a pleasant dream. Also, today is a wonderful day to set sail. The sea is calm, the wind is favorable, the air is cool and comfortable, and there are no bothersome navy ships or noisy sailors. Captain, you know, a noisy sailor..."

"You're noisy enough already." Though this was not his first time dealing with the bizarre goat head, Zhou Ming still felt his brain throbbing. He glared at the thing almost viciously, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. "Quiet."

"Oh, oh, oh, of course, Captain. You prefer quiet. Your loyal First Mate, Second Mate, boatswain, sailor, and lookout knows that very well. Staying quiet has many benefits. There was once someone in the field of medicine... or perhaps philosophy, or architecture..."

Zhou Ming now felt that not only was his brain throbbing, but even his bronchi were starting to tremble. "I mean, I order you to be quiet!"

The moment the word "order" left his mouth, the goat head finally fell silent.

Zhou Ming let out a slight breath of relief and walked over to sit before the Navigation Table—now, he was the "captain" of this empty ghost ship.

Duncan Abnormall. A strange name, with an awkward surname.

The instant he had first passed through that gray-black fog and stepped aboard this ship, he had known these things. He knew that this body on this side was named Duncan. He knew that he was the master of this ship. He knew that the ship was sailing on a long voyage beyond imagination—he knew all this, but only this.

The memories remaining in his mind were vague and sparse, containing only those crucial fragments. Everything else was completely blank. It was as though he knew this ship had an astonishing voyage planned, yet had no idea where it was headed. The ship's original owner—the real Duncan Abnormall—seemed to have died a very, very long time ago.

And the things lingering in Zhou Ming's mind were more like the strongest, deepest "impressions" left in the world after a Ghost Captain had completely died.

Instinct told Zhou Ming that there was a major problem behind the identity of this Captain Duncan. Especially with supernatural phenomena existing aboard this ship—such as a talking wooden goat head—the mystery surrounding Captain Duncan might signify a danger he had never imagined. Yet he had to wear that name if he wanted to move safely around the ship.

Because, just like the wooden goat head earlier, certain things aboard this ship were constantly trying to confirm the "captain's identity."

Even the ship itself was constantly confirming the captain's identity.

It felt like some kind of safeguard, as though the captain of this ship might truly forget his name at any moment—and if he did, something unimaginably terrifying and dangerous would happen. That was why "verification methods" had been placed everywhere aboard the ship.

Zhou Ming did not know what would happen if Captain Duncan forgot his name, but he believed that giving the wrong name would definitely lead to no good outcome.

After all, even that wooden goat head on the Navigation Table did not look like a particularly kind creature.

But as long as he bore the name Duncan Abnormall, everything aboard the ship remained rather amiable.

They did not seem very intelligent, anyway.

Zhou Ming—or perhaps he should be called Duncan now—ended his brief reflection and turned to look at the unfolded nautical chart on the table.

Yet there were no recognizable routes, markers, or landmasses on the chart. There was not even an island in sight. Across its rough, thick parchment surface, there were only vast swaths of constantly surging gray-white masses. Those gray-white, fog-like things seemed to obscure the routes that had originally existed on the chart. At the very center of the map, the only thing visible was the faint silhouette of a ship hidden within the thick fog.

Duncan—Zhou Ming—had never had any experience sailing out to sea in his decades of life, but even someone who knew nothing about nautical charts would know that a "normal" chart did not look like this.

Clearly, like the wooden goat head on the table, this chart was some kind of supernatural item—it was just that Duncan had yet to figure out how it worked.

Perhaps noticing that the captain's attention had finally settled on the chart, the goat head, which had been quiet for a long time, began moving again. It started making clacking wooden scraping sounds, twisting its neck back and forth in small motions. At first, it restrained itself somewhat, but the clacking soon became impossible to ignore—until finally, its entire head began spasming atop its base as if it had been switched to vibration mode.

Fearing that it would start rubbing sticks together to make fire on his Navigation Table if it kept twitching, Duncan finally glanced at it. "Speak."

"Yes, Captain—let me emphasize once again that today is truly a wonderful day to set sail. The Lost Homeland awaits your command as always! Shall we raise the sails?"