Gone and Returned, Then Returned Again

The sunlight was bright.

If that glowing object hanging high in the sky really was the sun, then its "sunlight"... was indeed very bright.

Duncan did not know how long he had stared at the sky. Only when his eyes became unbearably sore did he finally tear his gaze away from the clouds. Yet the posture of that "sun" remained deeply imprinted upon his retinas and in the depths of his mind. Even with his eyes closed, he could still clearly recall its appearance—the sphere giving off a faint golden glow, the streams of light twisting and dispersing around it, and the concentric rings quietly revolving around the sphere.

The sun was not like this. The sun should not be like this—even beneath alien skies in the world he knew, the stars hanging high above would not look like this.

But now, he had to accept the truth.

He was in a foreign land, one far more distant than he had imagined.

Even the sun had become something he could not understand.

Duncan unconsciously turned around and looked toward the Gate before the Captain's Cabin.

By pushing the Gate inward, he could return to the room he had lived in for many years, return to his bachelor apartment.

But outside that room, thick fog had long since swallowed the entire world. In a sense, the "hometown" he knew had been reduced to that final thirty-square-meter little house.

The "home" that seemed reachable with a push of the Gate was, in truth, merely another solitary vessel upon the sea.

After a long silence, Goat Head's voice suddenly entered Duncan's ears. "Captain, where are we going next? Do you have a sailing plan?"

A sailing plan? How could Duncan possibly have such a thing? Though he very much wanted to immediately devise a comprehensive plan to explore this world and settle the course ahead, he did not even have a proper sea chart in hand. He had no idea what lands or powers existed in this world, nor whether this endless ocean had an end at all.

Only a few hours ago, he had just learned how to sail the Lost Homeland.

But he still fell into thought, and after several minutes, he spoke inwardly. "That ship that collided with the Lost Homeland earlier—where did it come from?"

"You wish to go to those city-states?" Goat Head sounded surprised, then immediately tried to dissuade him. "I advise you not to approach the routes controlled by those city-states... at least not yet. Although you are the great Captain Duncan, the Lost Homeland's current state... is ultimately not what it once was. And the garrison navies and Holy See Guards of those city-states will certainly do everything in their power to resist your... attacks."

Duncan was speechless for a moment. He suddenly wanted to know exactly what outrageously vile things the Captain Duncan he had replaced had done back then, for merely showing his face in the mortal world to seemingly provoke a twenty-five-man raid group...

And from the tactful meaning behind Goat Head's words, Duncan also realized that the Lost Homeland and himself, this "captain," did not seem to be in as good a state as Goat Head usually flattered them to be. So the reason the Ghost Captain and his ship dominated the distant seas was actually because they did not dare return to the ports of the civilized world?

So exile was really just another way of saying a journey to the end of the world!

Duncan was somewhat troubled. He desperately needed to find a way to understand this world. He had to find a way to make contact with this world's "civilized society." Whether to survive here in the long term or to unravel the mysteries and return to the "hometown" he knew, he could not continue drifting aimlessly across this endless ocean. But the problem was—

This world's "civilized society" apparently did not see it that way.

In the eyes of the locals, "Captain Duncan" was a world boss roaming outside the main city, the kind that demanded a twenty-five-man raid the moment he appeared within sight...

Duncan sighed. If only there had been a book to read aboard the Lost Homeland, he would not have been so passive. His only source of information here was that cryptic Goat Head, yet at this stage, he did not dare reveal too much of his true situation before it.

But then again... how could such a huge ship not have even a single book?

Lonely, lengthy sea voyages were an environment of extreme pressure for people living at sea. People needed some way to relieve that pressure. Ordinary sailors might not have much time to read for leisure, but the great Captain Duncan... could not possibly have been illiterate, could he?

After all, "captain" was a technical profession with high demands on one's knowledge. Even the roughest, most savage pirates needed, at the very least, a captain who could read sea charts, understand the stars, and calculate routes.

With doubts in his heart, Duncan casually asked the question. He was very cautious, trying his best to make it sound like an offhand remark, while Goat Head answered without hesitation.

"Books? Reading at sea is a dangerous thing. Those things from the Abyssal Depths and Subspace are waiting every moment for flaws to appear in mortal minds. The only safe reading material is the 'classics' issued by the Holy See. Those are safe enough, but they're so boring that washing the deck would be more interesting... Haven't you always had no interest in Holy See things?"

Duncan immediately raised an eyebrow.

How could reading a book at sea be life-threatening? And only the Holy See's "classics" could be read safely? What the hell was wrong with this boundless sea?

It seemed that he had gained a little more knowledge about this world, but new doubts came with it. Duncan could only force those fresh questions down into his heart. He walked to the end of the rail and gazed out over the endless sea and sky in the distance.

That golden "sun" cast down ten thousand rays of light, reflecting undulating ripples across the sea like scattered gold leaf. If one ignored the sun's overly bizarre appearance, it truly was a beautiful sight.

"I'd like to hear your advice," Duncan finally said cautiously to Goat Head after much deliberation. "I'm a little tired of this aimless voyage. Perhaps..."

He had only gotten halfway through when a strange "feeling" suddenly arose from the depths of his heart. It came from the connection between him and the Lost Homeland, as though some "foreign object" had suddenly made contact with the ship. Immediately afterward, he heard a thud from the stern, as if something heavy had struck the deck.

Duncan frowned, then drew the loaded flintlock pistol from his waist and pulled out the one-handed sword with his other hand. He then ran swiftly toward the sound.

Moments later, he arrived at the stern deck, and the object lying quietly there left him dumbfounded.

It was that ornate wooden box, like a Coffin.

It was that bizarre doll.

A chilling sensation surged through Duncan's heart. He stared fixedly at the box, its surface still dripping wet, as if it might suddenly open on its own the next second. Then he noticed that the nails around the lid had vanished without a trace.

Those were the nails he had hammered in before throwing the box into the sea. They should have been incredibly secure.

After facing off warily beside the box for several minutes, Duncan finally made up his mind. He gripped the flintlock tightly in one hand and slid his sword into the gap in the box's lid with the other, then pried it open with force.

With a creak, the ornate lid opened. The lifeless Gothic doll still lay quietly inside, surrounded by red velvet lining, like a sleeping princess.

Duncan stared at the doll for several seconds, then spoke solemnly in a serious tone. He believed he had displayed sufficient authority at that moment. "If you're alive, get up and speak with me."

He said it twice in a row, but the doll remained utterly motionless.

Duncan looked at her with a grave expression, then finally said flatly, "Very well. Then I can only send you back again."

With that, he closed the lid again without hesitation, fetched some tools, and hammered another crisscrossing layer of Coffin nails into the box. After finishing with the nails, he found an iron chain and used the hooks already on the box to firmly secure its lid.

After doing all this, Duncan straightened up and clapped his hands in satisfaction. Looking at the "Coffin," now tightly bound and reinforced with another ring of Coffin nails, he nodded slightly. "This time, you shouldn't be able to rise from the Coffin."

Then, without hesitation, he kicked the box into the sea once more.

He watched the box hit the water, watched it bob with the currents and gradually drift away. Duncan let out a small sigh of relief, then turned and left the stern.

But after walking halfway across the deck, he suddenly turned back and looked once more in the direction where the box had drifted away.

The wooden box was still drifting with the waves on the sea.

Duncan nodded, turned, and continued walking away, only to suddenly turn back again.

The box was still floating on the sea, and it had drifted very, very far away.

"Maybe I should put a cannonball or something inside, so it can sink..."

Duncan muttered to himself. Only then did he truly turn around and slowly head toward the Captain's Cabin.

"You were somewhat harsh with that lady." Goat Head's voice came from within his mind.

"Shut up—you call a Cursed Doll a 'lady'?"

"That does indeed seem to be a Cursed Doll... But what curse upon the Boundless Sea could compare to the Lost Homeland and the great Captain Duncan? Captain, that lady was actually quite gentle and harmless..."

Duncan: "..."

Why was Goat Head so proud whenever it spoke of the Lost Homeland's and Captain Duncan's curses and infamy?

Perhaps sensing Duncan's poor mood in his silence, Goat Head immediately changed the subject. "Captain, you said earlier that you wanted to hear my advice. Specifically..."

"We'll talk about it later. I need to rest for a while—the earlier voyage through the Spirit World drained my energy. Stay quiet from now on."

"Yes, Captain."

Goat Head fell silent, while Duncan returned to the Captain's Cabin. He came before the Navigation Table and casually swept his gaze over the sea chart.

The next second, his gaze suddenly froze.

The sea chart seemed to have undergone a subtle change—the grayish-white patches that had originally covered the entire sheet, writhing as if alive, appeared to have dispersed a little. The sea around the Lost Homeland was becoming clear!

Could this thing... be updating information about the surrounding waters in real time as the Lost Homeland sailed?

Duncan immediately stepped up to the Navigation Table and focused intently on the subtle changes in the sea chart.

But his concentration was quickly interrupted.

From deep within his mind, the Lost Homeland once more sent the signal of "contact with a foreign object." Immediately afterward, Duncan heard another thud from the deck behind and to the side of the Captain's Cabin.