Chapter 1 The Return of the Coffin

The "coffin" was back.

On the stern deck of the Vanishing Sail, Duncan stared expressionlessly at the ornate wooden box lying silently before him. Droplets of water dripped from the edges of the box onto the deck, confirming that his memory of throwing it into the sea was no illusion, that this thing had indeed been floating in the ocean not long ago.

Such a bizarre situation would be enough to chill anyone's heart, yet for some reason, Duncan's mood was calmer than he had expected.

Perhaps it was because he was already on this incredibly eerie ghost ship, or perhaps it was because he had recently experienced a thrilling "spirit realm drift" and a ship collision, or maybe it was because he had been dealing with that equally strange goat-headed creature for several days. Duncan seemed to have developed a certain immunity to the bizarre and supernatural phenomena of this world.

In fact, when he threw this "cursed doll" into the sea last time, he had vaguely guessed that things wouldn't end so simply.

He lowered his head and, unsurprisingly, found that the iron nails and the circle of chains that had been fastened around the coffin were gone. Then, he bent down and once again used his pirate sword to pry open the lid of the "coffin."

The magnificent gothic doll still lay quietly in the center of the red velvet lining, hands clasped, serene and elegant.

But this time, Duncan clearly noticed that the hem of her skirt seemed to be damp with seawater—a faint fishy smell emanated from the inside of the coffin lid.

So far, this eerie doll hadn't done anything particularly outrageous or dangerous except return again and again, but even this "returning again and again" was a standard attribute of "cursed objects."

Duncan stared at the doll expressionlessly for a while, then suddenly broke the silence with a wry smile: "I suddenly want to satisfy my curiosity..."

With these words, he turned and walked towards the entrance of the cabin not far away, leaving the doll on the deck with considerable peace of mind.

Although he was personally wary of the doll and didn't want to keep it by his side, based on his understanding of the Vanishing Sail and that goat head, he knew that leaving the doll on the deck wouldn't cause too much trouble for the time being. Even if she suddenly became violent, the numerous "living things" on this ship would be able to handle it.

And he needed to do some "preparatory work" during this time.

Duncan passed through the stern deck, opened the wooden door leading to the lower deck, and, treading on the age-old wooden stairs, easily reached the cabin below. This was the "upper deck" of the cabin, where the cannons were placed—old-fashioned muzzle-loading cannons lay quietly on both sides of the cabin, moldy and blackened wooden planks covered the gun ports next to them, and dark barrels of gunpowder and solid iron cannonballs were piled between the gun emplacements, looking as if they had been accumulating for a century.

Duncan's gaze swept over these things that looked so antiquated, and a thought suddenly occurred to him—

On this ship, he hadn't seen a second "person" besides himself, so who was operating these cannons...?

Could it be that, like the Vanishing Sail itself, these cannons could load and fire themselves?

Then what about the freshwater tanks on the ship? Were they also replenishing themselves? What about the damaged parts? Were they also repairing themselves? Or... did this ship even have a concept of "damage"?

Questions popped up in his mind one after another, but he couldn't think of where to start explaining.

Duncan knew very well that he still knew too little about this ship. Although he had explored it to some extent in the past few days, he had only roughly understood its upper structure. The deeper areas were far more bizarre and more daunting than the upper levels. In addition, he had always hoped to leave his "bachelor apartment" and return to the normal world on Earth, so he hadn't focused his main energy on the Vanishing Sail, which meant that he didn't have much motivation for his actions "here."

But now, he suddenly had a greater curiosity about this ship, or rather... a greater sense of "control."

This was his ship, and he should understand this "Vanishing Sail."

This might also be the change that occurred after he grasped the helm.

Duncan shook his head, temporarily put the follow-up exploration plan in his heart, and then came to the place where the cannonballs were stored...

A moment later, Duncan returned to the stern deck carrying several cast iron cannonballs. As he had expected—the cursed doll in the coffin was still lying obediently in the wooden box.

"Did she make any movements just now?"

"Not at all," the goat head's voice immediately came, it seemed to have been holding back for too long, and it rattled off as soon as it opened its mouth, "This lady is as quiet as she looks. You should trust my judgment, she is gentle and harmless to you. Since she has returned to the ship again and again, perhaps it means that there is some kind of connection between her and her sarcophagus and the Vanishing Sail. A great gardener once said..."

"Shut up."

"Oh."

Duncan stared expressionlessly at the doll in the coffin.

He didn't know if she really couldn't move, or if she was still pretending to be asleep now—anyway, Duncan didn't care.

He wanted to satisfy his curiosity.

The solid iron cannonballs were extremely heavy. When executing traitors on the ship, tying one of these cannonballs was enough to send even the most seasoned sailor to a watery grave.

Duncan put four into the coffin—then returned to the cabin and carried another four.

Eight cannonballs almost filled all the remaining space in the wooden box. The gorgeous and elegant gothic doll was now surrounded by a circle of cannonballs, looking...formidably armed.

It wasn't very elegant, but it was definitely evil.

Duncan closed the lid of the coffin again, and then, with considerable effort, pushed the wooden box to the edge of the deck. Even with his current physical strength, completing this operation was not easy.

Finally, he kicked the coffin into the sea.

A heavy splash came, and the ornate wooden box entered the water straight and sank directly.

Duncan still stood quietly on the edge of the deck, watching the place where the wooden box fell into the water, without moving for a long time.

The goat head's voice entered his mind: "Captain, have you changed your mind? If you regret abandoning this trophy, the Vanishing Sail can try to use the anchor to retrieve the box again. Although this is not the correct way to use the anchor, the anchor says it can try..."

"Shut up."

"But I see you have been standing on the edge of the deck for a long time..."

"Shut up."

"Oh."

Duncan breathed a sigh of relief.

He couldn't admit that his toes hurt in front of the lackey goat head.

So he stood by the deck with aching toes for several minutes, trying to maintain the solemnity of a dignified captain throughout the process. By the end, he even wondered if he looked like a Wife-Watching Stone before he finally recovered and slowly returned to the upper cabin below the deck.

After waiting quietly for a few more minutes, estimating that the time was almost up, Duncan suddenly walked to the stern area of the upper cabin and opened the observation window in the middle of the two stern cannons, focusing his attention on the movements on the sea.

The goat head hadn't been quiet for long, and couldn't help but ask at this time: "Captain, what are you..."

Duncan, while concentrating on the sea, replied without raising his head: "I'm curious about how that 'cursed doll' came back."

"Um... because she is a cursed doll?"

"...I admire your uncritical attitude, but I think that even if she is a cursed doll, there must be some process for her to return to the ship. She wants to pretend to be 'dead', but she returns to the ship again and again. I think there must be a reason for this, and the other party must have the ability to communicate... but she refuses to communicate now, so I can only try to grasp her pattern of action and forcibly establish communication with that thing."

Listening to Duncan's explanation, the goat head was silent for two seconds, and suddenly tentatively asked: "Captain, you seem... your interest has suddenly increased? Ah, this is really a good sign! Your mood has not been very good since you woke up last time, and you seem to have lost interest in many things, your loyal first mate and second mate and..."

"Shut up."

"Oh."

After the goat head quieted down, Duncan was still concentrating on the movements on the sea, and in his sight, there was only a calm expanse of water in the direction of the stern.

The "coffin" seemed to have really sunk into the deep sea and would not appear again.

But with the experience of the previous two times, Duncan was particularly patient this time. He silently calculated the time, waited silently, observed silently, letting time flow by.

He himself seemed not to notice that he was actively looking forward to the doll's reappearance.

Then, a small black shadow really appeared in his field of vision.

In a wave, the black shadow rushed into Duncan's eyes. It was a beautiful wooden box, breaking through the surface of the sea like a lone boat in the wind and waves, and the beautiful gothic doll was standing in the wooden box, holding her gorgeous coffin lid with a rather imposing posture, paddling frantically left and right in the wind and waves.

A gothic doll standing in a coffin, waving a coffin lid, riding the wind and waves.

It wasn't very elegant, but it was really more evil than eight cannonballs.

Duncan was greatly shocked.

(Oh my!)