Duncan felt that he would probably never forget this scene for the rest of his life—on the strange and dangerous endless sea, a magnificent coffin was bobbing with the waves, and a gothic doll, driven by mysterious powers, stood inside the coffin, holding a huge coffin board, riding the wind and waves...
And she didn’t look very happy.
No matter how you looked at it, this was too bizarre. For a moment, Duncan didn’t know whether to be shocked that the cursed doll was actually moving or to be amazed by her overwhelming spirit as she wielded the coffin board. It was far from what he had imagined—he had thought about how she might return to the ship several times, but he never imagined it would look like this.
While Duncan was momentarily stunned, the doll had already reached the back of the ship, the Lost Homeland.
Even though she was using a coffin board as a paddle, she moved through the water with incredible speed and agility. Duncan cautiously peeked out to observe, and saw the doll throw the coffin board into the coffin, then reach out to grab a piece of wood sticking out from the back of the ship, quickly starting to climb up—she was as nimble and swift as if an invisible rope was pulling her upward. The heavy-looking wooden box bizarrely floated up from the sea, as if it had lost its weight, drifting beside the doll.
Duncan quickly pulled his head back before the doll noticed him.
The doll, clearly unaware that the ghost ship's captain had been watching her, climbed up the high stern of the Lost Homeland in the blink of an eye. She flipped over and jumped onto the deck, then waved her finger in the air, making the floating coffin land steadily at her feet. After looking around to check if anyone was nearby, she quickly adjusted her damp dress and started to crawl into the coffin.
Halfway through, she was suddenly blocked by a pirate sword that appeared beside her—followed by the click of a flintlock being cocked.
The doll froze instantly. She tried to turn her head but saw a ghostly captain wrapped in green flames standing nearby, coldly staring at her. The voice, seemingly coming from deep within the spirit world, was icy and profound: “Oh, I’ve caught you, doll.”
In front of Duncan, the doll visibly trembled. It seemed she was frightened and instinctively tried to dodge, but in her panic, her movements were a bit awkward. As her upper body swayed, Duncan heard a crisp “crack” sound from her shoulder.
Then her head fell off...
Right in front of Duncan, a beautiful head dropped from the doll’s body, her silver hair spreading in the sea breeze and rolling at his feet. The doll’s body remained in a pose as if ready to escape beside the coffin, one hand aimlessly grasping at the air, while her head helplessly stared at Duncan, mouth opening and closing: “Help... help... help...”
To say Duncan’s heart stopped would not be an exaggeration—though he doubted whether his heart still existed while being burned by ghostly flames, watching that doll’s head fall off was still a shocking sight. The blazing ghostly flames concealed his horrified expression, and in his moment of shock, the doll mistook his hesitation for indifference, not realizing that the terrifying Captain Duncan seemed even more nervous than she was, repeatedly saying, “Help... help... my head... fell off...”
Duncan finally came to his senses. He calmed his heart, which was only existing in his imagination, and controlled his actions and voice as best as he could. He observed the doll for a while, confirming that despite her many strange aspects, she seemed to be more afraid of him, the “ghost captain.”
Realizing this fact, Duncan understood he had to maintain his calm.
He didn’t know much about this world, nor did he understand this cursed doll. Until he could fully grasp the situation, the identity of “terrifying Captain Duncan” was his greatest assurance of safety.
On the other hand, he couldn’t just ignore the doll in front of him—though things weren’t going as he initially expected, it turned out that this doll could communicate with him.
He put away the flintlock and kept his sword in hand—at close range, the flintlock, which could only be fired once, was clearly less reliable than a sword, especially since he was still far from being a skilled shooter. Then he reached down and picked up the doll’s head that had fallen on the ground.
It felt very strange. Even though he knew she was just a cursed doll, reaching out to grab a “head” made Duncan feel uneasy, and the slight warmth coming from the head almost made him want to throw it away.
It was too eerie and bizarre.
But he ultimately restrained his strange feelings and calmly looked into the head’s eyes: “Do you want me to help you put it back?”
“Self... self... self...”
“Okay, you do it.” Duncan nodded and handed the head to the doll, who was flailing her arms in the air.
He watched as her hands expertly and skillfully caught her head, neatly arranged her disheveled silver hair, and adjusted the angle to place her head back on her neck—accompanied by a crisp “crack,” the spherical joint fit perfectly.
The entire process was smooth, clearly not her first time doing this.
Then the doll’s somewhat stiff face quickly became lively. She blinked and let out a sigh: “Phew... I’m alive again.”
Duncan: “…”
No matter how he looked at it, he felt he should say something sarcastic, but considering his identity as “Captain Duncan” and the doll’s unclear situation, he finally just nodded expressionlessly at her: “Good, now follow me—we need to talk since you keep coming to my ship.”
As he spoke, he let the ghostly flames surrounding him dissipate, returning to his original appearance.
Transforming into “spirit form” was a power he had gained after taking hold of the wheel of the Lost Homeland, but it was still something he was not very familiar with. He couldn’t say he was skilled or knew how to “use” it; apart from steering the ship, he didn’t even know what else it could do. He had only released it to create a strong image in front of the strange cursed doll and to boost his own confidence.
Now that the image was established and the doll was cooperating, it was unnecessary to continue consuming energy with the flames.
The cursed doll obediently stood up from beside the coffin, then looked in surprise at Duncan as he transformed back into human form. She stared wide-eyed: “You... you’re not a ghost?”
Duncan glanced at her indifferently: “When necessary, I can be.”
The doll raised a hand to touch her head, her expression showing some awe.
Duncan didn’t know what she was in awe of, but he could tell her head still seemed a bit loose—it might have almost scared off again.
He turned and walked toward the captain’s cabin, and through his connection with the Lost Homeland, he felt the doll hesitating for a second or two before obediently following him.
As expected, the ornate and strange “coffin” floated closely behind the doll; it seemed she had to take it wherever she went.
Moments later, Duncan led the cursed doll into the captain’s cabin.
Under the watchful gaze of the wooden goat head, the ghost captain and the cursed doll sat across from each other at the navigation table. Duncan sat in his dark, heavy-backed chair, while the doll elegantly and gracefully perched herself on the coffin-like wooden box, treating it as a seat.
She truly was elegant and dignified. When she sat quietly, her silver hair flowing and dressed in a gothic long gown, she looked as beautiful and poised as an artwork that belonged in a palace, surrounded by guards.
Unfortunately, every time Duncan saw her, he couldn’t help but think of how she had just battled the waves and acted independently...
He sighed, restoring his cold and authoritative demeanor, and stared into the doll’s eyes: “Name?”
“Alice.”
“Race?”
“Doll.”
“Occupation?”
“Doll... why are you asking these?”
Duncan thought for a moment: “Just to get some basic understanding.”
(End of Chapter)