The Qi-Suppressing Stone was not particularly hard, roughly comparable to jade. A little grinding was enough to produce fine powder.
After Hawkins swallowed the Qi-Suppressing Stone powder with water, the three curses within his body were drawn together by the powder and became entangled around his heart.
In an instant, his consciousness shifted from his brain to his heart and, guided by the curses, traveled to the unknown Dream Realm.
The busy sailors aboard the ship collapsed one after another. The captain's cabin fell silent as Mark held the remaining Qi-Suppressing Stone, his gaze somewhat hesitant as he looked at the unconscious Hawkins.
If he wanted to kill Hawkins, now was the best opportunity.
The human heart was the most complex and mottled thing.
One moment people could laugh and chat merrily; the next, they could turn around and stab each other in the back. There was nothing strange about that.
Mark knew very well that once Hawkins successfully became a Curse Caster, he would have no chance whatsoever of killing him. After all, Hawkins was already this powerful; once he became a Curse Caster, he would inevitably become even stronger.
The question was... did Hawkins truly trust him that much?
If Hawkins had never trusted him from beginning to end, was he really as defenseless now as Mark imagined?
Just as Hawkins had said, unseen yet lethal danger was what frightened people most. Mark sat motionless in his chair, clenching and unclenching his hand over and over.
"I lost."
"I concede."
"Captain, you won. If you can survive, you will be my captain."
In the end, Mark slumped limply into his chair. Looking at the unconscious Hawkins, he revealed a bitter smile.
He did not dare to act. In truth, the moment he hesitated, he had already lost completely. And he knew that if he did not dare strike this time, he would probably never have another chance, because the next time would be no different.
What was the Dream Realm like?
A thousand Curse Casters who had reached the Dream Realm would give a thousand different answers.
It was chaotic and disorderly, yet it seemed to operate according to some unknown rules.
Hawkins appeared abruptly in the Dream Realm. His consciousness was like a sponge, while the energy everywhere in the Dream Realm was like seawater. Thus, the instant his consciousness appeared there, boundless energy surged madly into it, filling his originally indescribable consciousness into a complete form.
Several dozen light-years away from Hawkins, an old man was gathering Qi-Suppressing Stones.
The old man wore a gray robe and a hat hung with tiny skulls. Holding an iron hammer, he lightly struck the chaos. Gradually, a Qi-Suppressing Stone emerged from nothingness and fell free from the "chaos."
Before he could rejoice, he suddenly gave a soft cry of surprise and looked toward Hawkins.
Distances in the Dream Realm were exaggerated and unreal. Several dozen light-years would be an unimaginably remote distance in the normal universe, but in the Dream Realm, one only needed a thought to arrive.
After pondering for a moment, the old man ultimately decided to investigate.
In an instant, he appeared not far from Hawkins. Yet the moment he opened his eyes, he let out a shrill scream, dropped to his knees, and began swelling and convulsing all over before finally exploding with a bang.
In the Dream Realm, Curse Casters could easily see through the essence of matter, and likewise see through each other's strength and weakness.
Hawkins's consciousness contained an incomparably vast amount of information. An ordinary person would need billions of years merely to decipher it, and at least tens of billions of years to master it.
The old man had directly witnessed Hawkins, so his consciousness was instantly burst apart.
However, Hawkins himself did not know that his mere existence had inflicted enormous harm upon a powerful Curse Caster. His consciousness was receiving information from the Dream Realm.
[What... do you... desire?]
Hawkins fell into thought. This was the Dream Realm's question for him.
The Dream Realm possessed no consciousness. The question came from the "rules," but in truth, it came from the depths of Hawkins's heart.
"To make up for my regrets!"
"Family, home, adventure, games..."
As Hawkins questioned himself, one word after another gradually surfaced.
The longer one lived, the more unavoidable regrets became. Hawkins had a great many regrets. Time could heal pain, but it could not fill regret.
There was one thing Mark had not explained. This was a small trap he had laid for Hawkins.
When ordinary people first entered the Dream Realm, the trial was not limited to the initial Mental Shock.
In fact, Mental Shock was completely useless against Hawkins. When he entered the Dream Realm, he had felt no shock at all. This was mainly because his consciousness itself was already immensely vast; that little shock falling into it was like a drop of water melting into the sea, utterly inconspicuous.
The true trial came afterward.
After the Mental Shock, newcomers would face a questioning of the soul. The more one demanded, the more dangerous the trials they faced would be.
Only by passing the trial and fusing the three Cursed Relics they possessed into one could they truly enter the ranks of Curse Casters.
Thus, under normal circumstances, Curse Caster Lineages would purify the hearts of their descendants, eliminating as many messy desires as possible and retaining only the purest, simplest desire.
Though this suppressive education could make it easier for the next generation to pass the trial in the beginning, it could also cause them to erupt with desires even harder to restrain once they lost their restraints.
For example, Mark's decision to become a pirate and his desire to try massacring a village on Pliskin Island had been influenced by this.
Simply put, many Curse Casters were mentally ill. This stemmed from the Dream Realm's Mental Shock and the suppression of desires within their Lineages.
After he answered, the Dream Realm's chaos churned. Countless strange scenes flickered in and out amid the chaos, while pair after pair of eyes looked over before letting out shrill wails.
However, at that moment, a Sea Chart, a Black Knife, and a false eye emerged from Hawkins's body. The three Cursed Relics turned into liquid and merged together, then moments later became a black Sea Chart and returned to Hawkins's body.
A pillar of light descended, and Hawkins appeared atop the boundless Black Sea.
[Survive... wish fulfilled!]
Hawkins opened his eyes, his consciousness receiving the message conveyed by the Dream Realm Laws.
"So surviving is enough to fulfill a wish?"
Hawkins looked around. He stood upon an endless black sea. Though it was clearly an ocean, he did not sink while standing on it.
This environment somewhat resembled the legendary Black Sea.
After observing his surroundings, Hawkins shifted his attention to himself. His body was not a real body, but a form of energy. His consciousness easily confirmed this.
In other words, none of his original body's abilities had come with him, and he had to face all kinds of dangers within the Black Sea?
No.
This was not the Black Sea!
Hawkins looked at the black liquid beneath his feet and made a new judgment.
Although it looked very similar, the Black Sea merely had black-colored water; it was not this viscous.
From the image of a silver coin entering the water, Hawkins could determine the water's density and buoyancy.
That was precisely why he concluded this was not the Black Sea.
"Survive?"
"If I have to survive an enemy's attack, where is the enemy?"
"If it is not an enemy's attack, then where does the danger come from?"
Hawkins swept his gaze around him, questions filling his mind. The intelligence he possessed was far too limited. He had to move.
The major premise of waiting still to control movement was having a certain foundation of intelligence. Right now, he was completely in the dark and could only take the initiative to gather information.
The moment he lifted one foot to walk forward, a black hand reached out from the seawater and grabbed for the foot he had not lifted.
The timing of the black hand's attack was exquisitely chosen.
It came precisely as Hawkins's old force had just run out and his new force had not yet arisen.
Hawkins glanced at the black hand. Just as it was about to touch his ankle, he lowered his center of gravity, then abruptly accelerated and stomped his raised foot fiercely toward it.
His movements were like a video suddenly fast-forwarding, completing every change in an instant. His foot landed directly on the black hand, forcing it to swiftly sink beneath the seawater.
The sneak attack had failed.
The next moment, not far in front of Hawkins, a bare-chested man gradually rose from the Black Sea.
The man's face was pale, his mouth sewn shut with black thread. Most terrifying of all was his abdomen, where a bloated ghost face grew, greedily staring at Hawkins.
"Are you my enemy?" Hawkins asked, looking at the man.
The man did not answer. He merely stared darkly at Hawkins, while the ghost face on his abdomen continually made "pat, pat" sounds as black liquid constantly flowed from the corners of its mouth.
"Trying to stall for time?"
Hawkins attacked decisively. Since the enemy had appeared, he would knock him down and kill him!
He closed the distance in several steps, moving as though he were dancing. The man tried to evade, only to collide squarely with his fist. Before the force of the punch could send him flying, Hawkins rammed his shoulder into the man's side, sending him tumbling across the seawater.
The man's body was soft, and cold as a block of ice.
Although he had suffered Hawkins's consecutive attacks, he did not sink beneath the surface after landing on the sea. Instead, after rolling a few times, he quickly got up. The ghost face on his abdomen roared, and he charged toward Hawkins.
In fact, before he was five hundred years old, Hawkins did not know how to fight. Though he had experience "brawling," to put it plainly, it was just Turtle Boxing.
When Hawkins was five hundred, World War III erupted. Only after enduring countless hardships amid the chaos did he gradually learn how to fight and how to kill.
Later, he experienced wars too numerous to count.
There were wars of humans against humans, and wars of humans against other races. Naturally, his combat experience became richer and richer.
So Hawkins was not a genius. He was simply powerful because he had lived long and experienced many battles.
The moment the man charged in, it was as if he deliberately cooperated, his cheek meeting Hawkins's sweeping kick head-on. The sound of bones shattering was incomparably clear.
That kick sent the man crashing to the ground. Before he could get back up, Hawkins stomped on his neck and broke it.