In a way, the sky without stars or moon, marked only by a single scar, impacted Duncan far more than the "sun" trapped by the runic ring. No matter how strange the sun might be, it only illuminated the world beneath Duncan's feet. In his mind as a person from Earth, the so-called "sun" was just one of countless celestial bodies.
All the twisted phenomena were confined to the light of the sun. Beyond that light, the sky could still hold countless stars filled with endless possibilities. Although for a being bound by gravity, the sunlit world felt like the whole universe, at least Duncan could understand and accept the scale of these strange occurrences.
However, in the current night sky, Duncan saw nothing that could be called "stars." There were no stars, no moon, and no distant galaxies. All that existed was a torn scar, a strange light covering the sky, continuously releasing a pale mist.
The entire boundless sea was shrouded in this pale, snowy night. Beyond the sun, there was only the distant void and even greater anomalies. Duncan said nothing, staring intently at the sky, while countless questions and guesses swirled in his mind.
Where were the other planets? Did they never exist? Or was the world beneath his feet a celestial body located in a vacuum of the universe, so far from other stars that its night sky was pitch black? What was that white scar stretching across the sky? Was it a tear in space? A tangible celestial structure? Or just an illusion floating above this treacherous boundless sea?
“Captain?”
Finally, a voice pulled Duncan from his silence. The doll named Alice looked a bit nervous at the suddenly halted ghost captain. She noticed his face had turned even darker and more serious, which frightened her: “Are you okay? Is there going to be a change in the weather? A big storm? I heard the sailors outside the box mention this…”
“...There’s nothing.”
Duncan replied softly, then suddenly pulled his gaze from the sky, looking at Alice with a calm expression, as if answering her or perhaps just repeating to himself: “There’s nothing.”
“Then we…”
Duncan stepped forward, his expression as calm as if nothing had happened: “Let’s go. I’ll take you to the cabin—you can wash up there if you need to.”
This world once again showed its bizarre and strange nature to the outsiders, and this strangeness seemed far from over. Duncan realized he had no idea how many shocking phenomena awaited him in the future. If he kept being surprised by every little thing, his life would be filled with nothing but surprises.
If the experiences he gathered over the past decades on Earth taught him anything, it was this: If a problem truly exists, find a way to solve it. Problems won’t disappear just because you deny them, just like this bizarre sky won’t turn into a starry one because of his doubts.
The world must have its reasons for showing itself this way. Since everything exists here, that is an undeniable fact. No matter how absurd or strange the phenomena are, they exist as objective facts. If he couldn’t understand them for a moment, that was his problem, not the world’s.
As the current captain of the Lost Homeland, Duncan felt he might have a long time to slowly understand this world.
Alice didn’t know why the captain had been silent all this way; she only sensed the atmosphere around Duncan had suddenly become a bit heavy. However, once they reached the cabin, that heavy feeling vanished.
Duncan brought the doll to a place where they could bathe, a bathroom prepared for the upper crew. For an old sailing ship, this bathroom was somewhat of a "luxury" facility, usually not available to ordinary sailors.
In ancient times, conditions on sailing ships during long voyages were quite harsh. Limited fresh water, spoiled food, poor medical care, and the psychological issues from prolonged sailing troubled every adventurer challenging the sea. On Earth, many of these problems weren’t fully resolved even in the early industrial era.
As far as Duncan knew, early sailing ships on Earth didn’t even provide toilets for ordinary crew members. Sailors usually solved their personal problems on the grating facing the sea (and had to pay attention to the wind direction). Bathing was even more difficult—using spare sails as bathtubs and washing with seawater was the solution for many careless sailors, while others simply chose not to bathe for weeks or even months.
After all, compared to scurvy, plague, and the mass hysteria caused by enormous mental stress, a little hygiene issue was the least of their worries.
But ironically, on a ghost ship that everyone feared, these terrible living conditions were actually resolved. The fresh water chamber on the Lost Homeland replenished itself, the food in storage showed no signs of spoilage, the ghost captain didn’t get sick, and Alice’s neck issue wasn’t caused by sailing.
Aside from feeling her blood pressure rise when dealing with the goat-headed figure, this ship was actually quite livable…
“The pipe next to the bathtub leads to the fresh water chamber; just take water directly. The stopper for the bathtub is hanging over there, don’t lose it—conditions are limited, and the ship doesn’t supply hot water, but you shouldn’t mind that.”
Duncan introduced the facilities in the cabin, these ordinary experiences were the results of his explorations over the past few days.
“Just rinsing off is fine; it’s really uncomfortable when saltwater gets into the joints,” Alice didn’t seem picky at all. She looked around the cabin with curiosity and excitement, nodding as she listened to Duncan’s introduction, “I’m just a doll, I don’t really care about hot baths.”
Duncan nodded but then had a strange expression. He glanced at Alice, his tone slightly hesitant: “By the way, do you know how to bathe? Do you have this… ‘life experience’?”
Alice was momentarily taken aback, then thought seriously before saying, “I guess… it should be fine? Just take apart the joints and rinse them, then put them back together…”
Duncan: “…?”
He looked at Alice, who innocently looked back at him.
“Have you thought about how you would put them back together after taking them apart?” Duncan realized his casual question was spot on. This doll, who had never left her box, truly lacked experience in this area. “I can’t help you with that.”
Alice: “...That does seem to be a problem.”
“And I strongly advise against frequently disassembling your joints,” Duncan reminded her earnestly, “Even if your body structure allows it.”
Alice looked a bit confused: “Why?”
“Too much disassembly can lead to them falling off,” Duncan finally felt helpless. He had never thought that staying on a ship with a cursed doll would come with so many “details.” Novels and movies never mentioned this. “I wouldn’t want you to suddenly fall apart while walking on the deck in front of me. No one on this ship knows how to maintain a doll’s joints.”
At this point, he paused and added, “Your neck issue is already serious enough.”
Alice imagined that scene and instinctively shrank her neck: “Ah, okay, okay, I understand… I’ll figure out what to do…”
“Best to do so,” Duncan said, glancing at the doll who seemed to lack practical experience, then turned to leave, “I have a lot to do—don’t cause too much trouble.”
“Okay, Captain, thank you, Captain,” Alice said cheerfully. But just as Duncan was about to leave the cabin, she suddenly spoke up again, “Oh, right, Captain…”
Duncan stopped and turned his head slightly: “What is it?”
“Captain… I suddenly feel like you’re not so scary after all,” Alice looked at Duncan’s back, carefully choosing her words, “That goat-headed figure said you were the scariest captain on the boundless sea, the most unpredictable disaster on all the routes, but…”
“But what?”
“But you seem quite easy to talk to, almost like a caring parent…”
Duncan didn’t turn around, remaining silent for two seconds before suddenly asking, “Where did you get the idea of family… do you have family?”
Alice hesitated for a moment, slowly shaking her head: “I don’t think so.”
“Then let’s not talk about family topics. Just stay on the ship, and I’ll arrange your life here.”
“Oh, okay, Captain.”
(End of Chapter)