The High Priest's voice was old and viscous, as if his mouth were full of thick phlegm, making it deeply uncomfortable for Charles to listen.
"Where is the item?"
"Not far. It's on a newly discovered island to the left of the Coral Islands."
Charles continued to press, "Why me? There are plenty of people and ships stronger than I am."
"Hehehe, that place is a bit dangerous. We need a cautious Captain."
Charles didn't buy the so-called "a bit dangerous." No one offers 1,000,000 Echo Coins for "a bit dangerous."
"You haven't only said this to me, have you? What happened to the others?"
The High Priest's voice held a trace of contempt. "Isn't Captain Charles the one who claims he's going to buy an Exploration Ship? To be afraid of a little danger like this... that doesn't seem very heroic for someone who's supposed to expand humanity's territory."
Seeing the red-robed figure evade his question, Charles knew the fate of his predecessors must have been grim. That place was definitely dangerous.
After pondering for a moment, he decided to take the job. Fortune favors the bold, and I don't want to delay any longer. In fact, I can't afford to.
As for danger? Where is it ever safe to sail nowadays? Nowhere on the Abyss-Sea is truly safe.
"Fine. But how can I be sure you'll keep your word?"
The High Priest of the Futan Sect seemed quite reasonable. "I can place the payment with the England Bank and have them act as a witness."
He paused for a few seconds, then continued, "I have a small question. Why is Captain Charles so desperate to buy an Exploration Ship? For power? For Echo Coins? Or for glory?"
Charles didn't bother to hide it. "To find the Land of Light."
Hearing this, the red-robed figure shuddered, and his elderly voice became tinged with panic as he asked, "Find the Land of Light? You're not with the Light Sect, are you?"
"No."
Hearing Charles's answer, the High Priest finally let out a sigh of relief. "Good. If you really were one of those heretics, we would have to reconsider our deal. Don't get involved with them—they're absolute lunatics. They are a cult, through and through!"
Listening to a Futan Sect believer—one with a fondness for human sacrifice—say such a thing, Charles felt an absurd urge to laugh. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. By the standards of the Earth's surface, every single religion in the Abyss-Sea is a cult. Every one of them has rituals that are as anti-human as they come.
When Charles walked out of the Confession Room, the bald man named Hook from before entered with a cup of blood-water, setting it respectfully behind the High Priest.
"Go sign the contract now. Have him set out as soon as possible."
Hook nodded. After hesitating a moment, he carefully asked, "High Priest, do you think we'll succeed this time?"
A black octopus tentacle extended from beneath the red robe, wrapping around the cup and drawing it inside. "Keep trying. This is only the ninth one. Don't rush... The Holy Master's relic can only belong to us."
Without wasting time, Charles followed the approaching Hook toward the largest bank in the Coral Islands.
Seeing the bald man write "Futan Church" on the contract, Charles relaxed. The document's legitimacy was now backed by the Governor of the Coral Islands. There was no way the Futan Church would break its promise, as the cost of doing so would be far more than one million Echo Coins.
"Captain Charles, I heard your first mate left the ship, is that right?"
"What does that have to do with this?" Charles slid the contract into an inner pocket of his coat.
"Nothing at all. It's just that, to help you complete your task as quickly as possible, our Futan Sect has specially selected a first mate for you. He has a wealth of sailing experience, so please don't refuse him."
Charles furrowed his brow at the bald man before him. "To spy on me?"
"No, he's only here to guide you. The island is very remote, and we're worried you won't be able to find it."
Charles couldn't care less. Our interests are aligned for now. No matter how crazy these people are, they won't sabotage the voyage at this stage.
"I set sail in three days at six o'clock."
「Three days later.」
The port was already starting to grow lively, with squads of laborers swarming like ants as they carried cargo.
Charles stood waiting at the bow. The rest of the crew lounged about on the deck, chatting idly. There were a couple of unfamiliar faces—new sailors—while the former sailor, Deep, had been promoted to sailor chief.
The suddenly promoted youngster looked excited, holding his hands behind his back and acting like a seasoned veteran as he instructed the new sailors, even though they were all much older than him.
Nearby, the Chief Engineer and the chef weren't nearly so carefree; they knew this mission wouldn't be simple.
"James, I thought you were going to leave like John," said Frey, the chef, who was as skinny as a stick.
"The Captain saved my life. Wherever he goes, I go. Besides, the Captain said the reward for this job is huge. Once I get paid, I can propose to Mosica." Picturing the wedding, the big man's face lit up with happiness.
"What if you die? This isn't a delivery mission. Technically, exploring islands is an Explorer's job."
"I'm not afraid. Sticking with you all isn't so bad."
The Chief Engineer thought of something and turned to his companion. "Frey, what about you? Why did you come?"
"You know me. I'm too lazy to move somewhere else," Frey said, his gaze calm as he glanced at the Captain's back.
The truth was, he stayed because several years ago, he had peeked and seen the Captain secretly looking at a rectangular object. The thing not only played music like a phonograph but also showed ghostly figures performing plays on its surface.
He still didn't know what it was, but he suspected it was some kind of powerful relic, and he guessed that its use required tears as a price. The usually stoic Captain had wept like a child that night.
From that moment on, he decided he would follow this Captain to the end. With a captain who possesses such a powerful relic, our safety must be guaranteed. On the sea, high pay doesn't matter, and the workload doesn't matter. Staying alive is the only thing that does. And reality had proved him right. Nearly everyone who had set sail at the same time as him was dead by now. Only he was still alive and well.
From his position on the bow, Charles suddenly narrowed his eyes. A line of black-robed Futan Sect followers was making its way through the laborers toward the dock, led by the bald man, Hook.
"Where is he? Hurry up, I'm in a rush," Charles said, his impatience showing.
Hook smiled and clapped his hands. One of the figures behind him stepped forward.
When Charles saw the newcomer's attire, he thought for a second that he was looking at a mummy. Earth-toned bandages were wrapped tightly around the man's entire body, leaving not a hint of skin exposed.
"You can call him Bandages or whatever you like. He's served as a first mate before, and he knows the island's location. He'll be a great help on this trip."
"Is it alive in there?" Charles's tone was wary.
"Hehe, don't worry. He's human. A man of flesh and blood."
Hook pulled out a dagger and sliced it hard across the bandaged man's face. The loosened wrappings revealed dark skin beneath, and fresh, crimson blood welled from the cut.
Charles looked closer and realized his mistake. Black? There are still black people in this world? No, the skin isn't black; it's covered in dense, tattooed letters. They just create the illusion of black skin at first glance.