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In a sense, the ship had already become a part of subspace—indeed, its hull was still navigating through subspace at that moment.

You cannot drive a person with zero sanity into madness, nor can you contaminate the Homeloss, which had been thoroughly transformed by subspace.

Listening to the goat head’s words, Duncan Ebnomal showed a contemplative expression, but he didn’t ponder for long because the goat head’s voice came from the navigation desk again, “Captain, you’ve started taking an interest in matters within the civilized boundary—you used to be focused solely on voyaging beyond the frontier. Does something in the City-State hold special meaning for you?”

Voyaging beyond the frontier?

Duncan’s heart stirred slightly, but his facial expression remained unchanged, as he casually replied, “Just a simple interest, no need for a reason.”

...

“Ah, okay, you’re the captain, what you say goes,” responded the goat head immediately, followed by two seconds of silence, as if hesitating or contemplating something, before it finally spoke in a low voice, “Well then, just in case, I’d like to ask you a question.”

Duncan raised his eyebrows.

He heard the hoarse, deep voice emanating from within the wood carving, “Your name?”

“Duncan Ebnomal,” Duncan replied impassively, his fingertips lightly crossed over each other, but this time, after uttering his name, he suddenly laughed and quickly asked back, “I’m rather curious, what would happen if I gave a different name?”

It was the first time he’d asked this question, and it was also his boldest “transgression” to date—was it the life he’d led on this ship, the many encounters with the goat head, and the increasing understanding of his own powers and traits that had finally led him to take this step?

The mutual probing and observation had established a fundamental tacit understanding, Duncan’s counter-question revealing a fact both parties were aware of but left unspoken, and after this question, the goat head fell into a prolonged silence. Only after a full minute did the captain’s quarters reverberate with its low, hoarse voice again, “Then, please spare me the jokes, Captain. Homeloss still needs you at the helm.”

Duncan laughed.

As he had suspected, if the goat head had been “Captain Duncan’s” right-hand man for the past century, then it probably knew the Ghost Captain even better than the captain knew himself. Considering all the strange and transcendent entities in this world, how could an extremely knowledgeable “first mate” not notice a change in the captain, not consider the possible scenarios?

Even the most cautious disguise has its flaws, and the fact that nobody had mentioned it meant that these flaws were obvious and necessary to some extent.

Homeloss needed a captain, and that captain’s name was “Duncan Ebnomal.” It didn’t matter what lay behind that name or whether the captain himself was real; all that mattered was having someone qualified at the helm.

Duncan was just curious about why it had to be him, and whether his own “Self-Will” was an unexpected development, because from what he knew about ghost ships, if a cursed vessel needed to “grab” people to be captains, then those chosen should be under the curse’s control, yet he was clearly unfettered.

But he didn’t voice these thoughts, as the goat head’s demeanor subtly reminded him:

Some things, everyone knows them; no need to state them too plainly.

Until all the secrets behind Homeloss were unraveled, this topic could come to a close.

“Still needing your loyal first mate at your service, and Homeloss still needing its great captain personally at the helm, what do you think?” came the goat head’s voice from the side, sounding somewhat hopeful, even eager.

Duncan turned his head, gazing at the Obsidian-carved eyeballs of the other.

“Of course,” he said with a smile.

He then stood up and headed for the door of the captain’s quarters, “I’m going to step out for a moment; keep an eye on the ship.”

The goat head returned to its usual obsequious manner, its tone pleasant, “Of course, your loyal subordinate will wait here for your return, wish you a good…”

Duncan had already pushed the door open and left the room, blocking the rest of the goat head’s words behind it.

He stood on the aft deck, exhaling softly, a strange relief rising within him. The morning sun was spreading over the sea, lending the whole deck a warm and comforting atmosphere, while the door leading to the captain’s quarters stood quietly in front of Duncan, the letters “The Door of The Displaced” glistening in the sunlight.

He pressed the handle and gently pushed forward.

Inside the captain’s quarters, the goat head sensed that the captain had temporarily left Homeloss.

It was silent, everything in the room was silent, even the entire ship was silent, but after a few minutes, a low creaking sound suddenly emerged from beneath the floorboards, followed by some of the room’s furnishings beginning to sway slightly, producing various faint noises.

The voice of the goat’s head broke the silence, muttering to itself, “Geez… not angry, right… should not be angry… I mean, really not angry…”

The various tiny sounds in the room became more pronounced.

“I know, I know… it’s not that I want to keep asking for names every now and then! It’s for navigation safety! Just in case we fall back into Subspace, at least we’d be prepared… Stop fussing, stop fussing, I’m already all over the place… How about next time you ask! If not, then keep it down… You know I’m the only one on board with a mouth…

“That doll? Are you guys crazy? She doesn’t know the situation… Wait, when did you get on such good terms with her? Aren’t you always fighting… Feeling guilty for bullying her too much? Can it really be like this?

“Alright, alright, everyone scatter, focus on the journey, the captain might return at any time, he might ask about the progress of our voyage… Anchor, can’t you learn to swim? Providing some power when you swing, I’ve seen those steamships’ propellers… Alright then, forget I said anything… Or maybe you two lifeboats could jump in and mess around? Okay, okay, forget I said that too…”

The sounds in the captain’s quarters gradually subsided.

The goat’s head sighed silently and continued to steer the massive Ghost Ship towards the direction of Plunder City-State.

On the sea chart shrouded in mist, the twinkling light where the City-State was located drew nearer by a bit.

…

Zhou Ming pushed open the door to his single apartment and stepped into the world he was familiar with.

Outside the window, the mist was still enveloping everything, and the world he knew was still confined to this small area.

Inside the room, everything remained as it was when he left, the bedcovers were somewhat messy, the book on the nightstand was still open, and the computer screen in the corner flickered faintly, with the “Network Disconnected” prompt popping up again and again in the bottom right corner.

Duncan breathed a sigh of relief and strolled over to the shelving unit at the end of the room.

The model ship Homeloss still lay quietly in its compartment, exactly where he had last placed it.

Duncan picked up the intricately detailed Ghost Ship “model,” then opened the door to the captain’s quarters and peeked inside.

The navigation desk was still empty, the figure of the goat’s head was not to be seen.

Duncan pondered for a moment before returning Homeloss to its original spot, then turned and walked over to the desk, preparing to sit down and rest, and organize the intelligence he knew and collect his thoughts in this familiar and quiet environment.

But all of a sudden, his gaze was drawn to something on the desk.

To be precise, not something, but a rather strange… phenomenon.

He saw very, very tiny flames continuously leaping on the empty desk top, like sparks chaining together, and under the outline of these faint and eerie green flames, there were vague outlines appearing and disappearing in the air.

It was as if something was taking shape on the desktop, yet the coalescence was too slow, getting stuck in an almost-formed state.

Duncan sat down in front of the desk, quietly watching those dancing flames and the outlines faintly appearing amidst the fire, the eerie green light reflecting off his face, lending his slightly gaunt features a solemn air.

He recognized that the outlines traced by the flickering flames were places he was familiar with—those were some of the streets of Plunder!

He could even make out some details of the City-State’s coastline.

The fire was burning, and Duncan remembered that he had commanded those flames to persistently chase and hunt down those “things” with black umbrellas.

Now it had nearly spread to every corner of the City-State.

The prey… is everywhere!? @@novelbin@@

Duncan’s brow furrowed bit by bit, thoughtfully tracking and distinguishing the paths of those spreading flames, searching for the patterns in their congregation, and the directions they might converge on next, like a hunter tracking the scent of his prey.