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The âcoffinâ has returned.
On the aft of the Vanished, Duncan looked expressionlessly at the gorgeous wooden box lying quietly in front of himself. The droplets of water on the edge leaking next to his feet confirmed he wasnât dreaming â he really did throw the darn thing into the sea not long ago.
Such a strange situation was enough to make anyone feel the chills, but somehow Duncanâs mood at the moment was calmer than he had imagined.
Perhaps itâs due to already being on the eerie ghost ship, or because he had recently experienced a thrilling âdrift into the spirit worldâ and a collision with a steamboat, or perhaps itâs due to the evil-looking goat head for several days. Regardless, Duncan seemed to have grown an immunity to strange supernatural phenomenas in this world.
In fact, as early as the last time he threw this âcursed dollâ into the sea, he had vaguely guessed that things wouldnât end so easily.
He lowered his head, not surprisingly noticing that the iron nails and chains were gone, then used the tip of his pirate blade to pry open the lid again.
The gorgeous gothic doll still lay quietly in the center of the red velvet lining, hands folded, idyllic, and elegant.
But this time Duncan clearly noticed that the corners of the other sideâs skirt seemed to have traces of being wet by the sea with a faint smell of the ocean from inside the coffin.
Up to now, this strange doll does not seem to have any other out-of-line or dangerous behavior except the back and forth, but just the âgoing and returningâ was already enough to attribute it to what they call a âcursed itemâ.
Duncan watched the doll for another good while, then suddenly broke the silence with a smirk: âI suddenly want to satisfy my curiosityâŠâ
When the words ended, he turned and walked to the entrance of the cabin not far away and left the doll alone on the deck.
Although he was wary of the doll and did not want to leave the other party by his side, but Duncan had confidence the many living creaturesâ on the ship would be enough to deal with anything that might arise.
And he has some âpreparationsâ to make during this time.
Duncan crossed the aft of the deck, opened the wooden door leading to the lower deck, stepped onto the wooden staircase that was god knows how old, and came to the cabin under the deck, which belonged to the âupper cabinâ where the cannons, powder kegs, and iron balls were placed.
As he swept his gaze over the things that looked quite old at a glance, an idea suddenly came to his mind.
Can these cannons reload themselves too and fire when he wills it?
What about the freshwater tanks on board? Do they also refill on their own?
What about the damaged places during a battle? Are they also self-repairing? Or rather⊠does this ship even have the concept of âdamageâ?
The questions came out one by one, but he couldnât think of an explanation for any one of them.
Duncan knew very well that he knew too little about the ship. Although he had explored it to some extent over the past few days, he only had a general understanding of its superstructure. Those deeper areas were far too eerie and menacing for him to explore with the limited time he had on hand.
But now, the possibilities were riling up his curiosity to a new high.
This was his ship, and he deserves to know about the âVanished.â
This may be a change largely due to him taking control of that steering wheel, but he didnât know that. Shaking his head, the guy left the idea of exploration for another time and returned to his initial plan.
Armed with several iron shell balls, Duncan returned to the aft of the deck and made a peculiar face. âDid she make any movement?â
âNot at all,â came the voice of the goat head at once that sounded far too similar to someone thatâs been muffled for far too long, âthis lady is as quiet as she looks, and you should trust my judgment that she is completely harmless to you. Since she keeps coming back on board, it may indicate there is a connection between her and the Vanished. A great horticulturist once saidâŠâ
âShut up.â
âOkay.â
Ignoring the thumping annoyance in his veins, Duncan stared expressionlessly at the doll in the coffin.
I donât know if she really canât move, or if sheâs still pretending to be asleep, but regardless, Iâm going to find out.
Solid cast iron was particularly heavy, and when executing traitors on a ship, a single cannonball strapped to the leg was the best way to ensure the seasoned sailor fed the fishes.
For this occasion, Duncan decides to make it four before returning to the lower cabin for another four â making it a total of eight.
Eight cannonballs, plenty to fill up the remaining space in the wooden box with that elegant doll sleeping at the center. Well, elegant wouldnât be the right word anymore, but creepy would definitely fit the bill.
With great effort, Duncan sealed the lid off again and pushed the wooden coffin to the edge of the deck. Finally, with a spinning kick of his life, he shot the box right into the sea for the third time. This time, he made sure to witness it sinking into the depths with his own eyes.
The voice of the goat head came into his mind then: âCaptain, have you repented? If you regret throwing away the loot, the Vanished can still use its anchor to salvage the box again. Although the correct use of the anchor isnât meant for that, but the anchor says it can tryâŠ.â
âShut up.â
âBut I see youâve been standing on the edge of the deck for a long timeâŠâ
âShut up.â
âOkay.â
Duncan heaves a long sigh. He couldnât admit to the bootlicking goat head that his toe hurts from that spinning kickâŠ.
So, with the painful sting still apparent in his shoe, he maintained the serious and majestic appearance of a captain overseeing the waters until many minutes later. Whether Duncan actually looked like a proper captain or not was one thing, but heâs certain no one would mock him for it.
After returning to his quarter and waiting quietly for a few more minutes, he estimated the timing should be about right and got to where the windows were. This spot was below the stern area, so he should be able to peer through the opening and see what he wanted.
âCaptain, you areâŠâ The goat head couldnât help but ask after witnessing this odd behavior.
Duncan stared intently at the sea surface and replied without looking up, âIâm wondering how that âcursed dollâ keeps coming back.â
âErm⊠because sheâs a cursed doll, thatâs how?â
ââŠâŠ I appreciate your uncomprehensive attitude, but I think that even if she is a cursed doll, there must be some kind of process in her coming back on the ship. I suspect sheâs also able to communicate but refuses to do so. If I can grasp onto her reasoning, then perhaps we can stop this charade and get some words in.â
Listening to Duncanâs explanation, the goat head went quiet for a good two seconds like its contemplating the idea: âCaptain, your energyâŠ. seem to have grown higher. Thatâs a good sign! You havenât been in a good mood since you awoke from slumber. As your loyal first mate and second mateâŠâ
âShut up.â
âOkay.â
After the goat head had quieted down, Duncan focused his attention back on the sea surface.
The âcoffinâ seemed to have really sunk into the deep seaâŠ
But with the experience of the previous two times, Duncan was extra patient this time. Silently calculating the time and silently observing in wait. Then it happened. The doll reappeared in his line of sight as he expected.
Amid a wave, the delicate wooden box that looked like a coffin had become a makeshift boat with the gothic doll paddling the sides with her arms. Truly an imposing sight in how she managed such a feat against such waves.
Naturally, Duncan was stunned for words at this sight.