Ashes Of Deep Sea

Alice didn’t understand much about the world.

But at least, she had heard countless times the low, fearful, and tense conversations from within the wooden boxes, from the crew and guards who were particularly nervous because they were responsible for escorting an abnormal entity. Through these snippets of overheard speech, she had formed a rudimentary understanding of what constituted the “unusual.”

If something obviously defied common sense yet existed tangibly, then the first thing to do was to adhere strictly to established safety rules, considering research and analysis only after maintaining a safe distance—this was the way to survive.

Alice didn’t really feel the reality of being “Abnormal 099.” She didn’t know what she could do, or what she might have done, to inspire such fear and caution in humans. She was not sure how, as a Spiritual Intelligence “abnormality,” she was supposed to think in a way that was considered “normal”—right now, she thought like any other person.

If the mountain goat head said there were exactly six rules for the crew, then there were six. And if the mountain goat head mentioned a seventh rule, then she would remember this seventh rule.

Yet, she couldn’t help but express some doubts, “I just tried pushing the captain’s room door, and indeed it opens outwards—as something so expected, why is it emphasized particularly in the rules?”

The wooden mountain goat head silently watched Alice’s eyes and, after a full two seconds, replied with an unprecedented brevity, “Sometimes, it can open inwards.”

“Then…”

“If you see the door opening inwards, never go in. On the entire Homeloss, only the captain is entitled to do that.”

This was the first time since their earlier conversation that the mountain goat head spoke with such severity and even a hint of intimidation, even more so than when he had been explaining the crew rules earlier.

Alice was startled by the unexpectedly solemn tone.

But then, the tone of the mountain goat head became light again, as if the serious topic never happened. He began cheerfully, “Well, the mandatory introductions for a new crewmember are now over, let’s talk about something else… Oh right, Miss, did you come to the captain’s room for something? If you don’t know how to use the ship’s facilities, there’s no need to trouble the great Captain Duncan. If you’re looking for a chat, then you’ve come to the right place, I’m very good at finding topics and know countless great tales about this ship… You’re not interested in great tales? Well then, I can introduce you to some of the most famous dishes on the Endless Sea, I do have some culinary knowledge…”

Once the mountain goat head got going, Alice found no chance to interrupt, and by the time she realized something was terribly wrong, it was already too late.

Abnormal 099, the doll Miss Alice, faced the second greatest terror aboard Homeloss, second only to Captain Duncan himself.

Meanwhile, in a bedroom separated by a mere wall from them, Duncan was quietly listening to the noises coming from the chart room.

He had just awoken, his soul returning to the Homeloss from a distant shell. He hadn’t heard the initial conversation between the mountain goat head and Alice, but he had heard the “crew rules,” as well as the discussion about the captain’s room door opening outwards.

Important intelligence, unexpected gains.

Duncan hadn’t even digested the information he had gathered from the Heretics before he overheard the conversation between the mountain goat head and Alice. Both the bizarre and eerie “crew rules” and the information from the mountain goat head’s words were of utmost importance to him.

Indeed, when he himself pushed the captain’s room door inwards to return “to the other side,” the mountain goat head knew of it. To him, this action was like returning to his own bachelor pad, but for the Homeloss on this side, it seemed to imply “the captain has temporarily left.”

The mountain goat head had no doubt and regarded this as a behavior that Captain Duncan himself would have.

So… had this ship’s original “true Captain Duncan” also pushed open the door to the captain’s room and then went to some mysterious “world”? And had this been done not just once, resulting in it becoming something that the mountain goat head took for granted, and even a part of the crew rules of the Homeloss?

To Duncan, this was good news; it meant that he wouldn’t have to worry too much when returning “to the other side” in the future. Even if new crew members joined the ship, he could disappear from everyone’s sight in this manner without raising suspicion, without anyone imitating and discovering his “secret.”

But on the other hand, Duncan couldn’t help but have inevitable concerns—related to the “6+1” crew regulations the goat-headed figure had deliberately mentioned.

What did these crew regulations really mean? What were these rules, sounding bizarre, dangerous, and even contradictory, based on? Some clauses seemed to emphasize the captain’s authority, but the true situation was clearly more than that. Those strict behavioral restrictions appeared more like survival protocols for the crew amid an environment of lurking dangers, rules established to avoid invisible threats.

Duncan frowned slightly as he pondered his real position within these regulations—judging from their content, he, as the “captain,” seemed to be the only individual with utmost freedom and initiative. He didn’t need to worry about the “unseen risks” on the ship, and he himself was the arbitrator of many risk factors. But… all these were predicated on him being the “real Captain Duncan.”

This was precisely the most worrisome part.

Yet, he suddenly remembered his recent exploration aboard Homeloss, and the fact that he had been moving around the cabins at will.

The goat-headed figure had never reminded him about the crew regulations, treated him as the real Captain Duncan, and he didn’t encounter any “mysterious dangers” while moving on the ship, nor was there any possibility of a second “captain” popping up to set activity restrictions for him.

From this perspective, the dangers referred to in the “crew regulations” by the goat-head seemed indeed irrelevant to him.

Duncan let out a soft breath and continued to listen attentively to the noises coming from the chart room.

Half a minute later, he wished he could shut off his own ears.

The chattering doll and the noisy goat-headed figure were engaged in conversation, with the latter clearly dominating. The incessant babble flowed like the waves of the Endless Sea within the chart room, so overwhelming that Duncan, hidden in the bedroom and observing secretly, couldn’t bear it any longer.

He felt he needed to go out and rescue the poor doll lady. Alice, lacking in social experience, was clearly no match for the goat-head, but after a moment’s hesitation, Duncan still stopped himself.

He had just finished an astonishing “soul journey” and had much information to sort out and experiences to summarize. He needed to understand what had just happened, to determine whether this process was controllable—for now, the ability to project his spirit afar seemed to be the most useful tool for collecting information on land in the future.

Normally, he would worry that burying himself in his room to study his new abilities for too long might draw unnecessary attention from the goat-head, but now he had an Eli outside to distract that noisy creature… It was better than perfect.

Mentally apologizing to the doll lady, Duncan looked down at his right hand, and in the next second, his expression froze.

The brass Compass, slightly larger than a pocket watch, had disappeared without notice.

And he clearly remembered that until recently, he had been holding tightly to that Compass!

Duncan’s eyes became instantly sharp because he hadn’t noticed any changes in his hand, and such inattention and negligence had never happened before since he came aboard the odd and mysterious Ghost Ship.

The next second, he clenched his right hand, and a faint green Spectral Flame then quietly appeared between his fingers. He immediately stood up from behind his desk, ready to use the connection between the Spectral Flame and Transcendent phenomena to check for any abnormal traces in the entire bedroom.

But as he stood up, Duncan’s movements abruptly halted. A subtle connection emerged from the depths of his heart, and he instinctively looked in the direction it came from. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a few feathers, seemingly real yet illusory, fluttering down from the air.

Duncan looked in surprise at where the feathers had fallen and saw an apparition swiftly emerging and solidifying before his eyes. In just two or three seconds, the apparition had taken the form of a snow-white…

Dove.

The missing Compass hung from the dove’s chest, and a familiar Obsidian dagger lay quietly at the dove’s feet.