Charles and his party boarded the Narwhal. Compared to the shabby old Rat, the Narwhal was undoubtedly much more spacious and spotless—just looking at it was a pleasure.
He ran through every cabin, inspecting each one thoroughly to ensure nothing was amiss. As captain, he had to know every part of the ship as well as he knew his own body.
After confirming that everything was in order, Charles returned to the cockpit and gave a small wave of his hand. The Narwhal's smokestack began to belch thick black smoke, and the ship slowly headed for the deep sea.
Glancing through the glass at Coral Island, which was gradually shrinking in the distance, Charles walked over to the communication pipe and shouted into it, "Chief Engineer, how does the new ship feel?"
A few seconds later, James's good-natured voice came through the pipe. "She's great, Captain! Steam's coming up fast! And it's not hot down here at all, only thirty-nine degrees Celsius."
"Crank the turbine to maximum. Let's see how fast this thing can go."
"Aye aye, Captain."
As black smoke pumped steadily from the stack, the Narwhal picked up speed. When it reached its top speed, Charles, at the helm, felt like he was piloting a speedboat.
Just then, he spotted something white on the sea out of the corner of his eye. "Chief Engineer, slow down!"
The speeding Narwhal decelerated, and Charles got a good look at the object—it was a severely bloated corpse.
It should have been floating in the water, getting picked apart by fish, but now it was eerily standing upright on the surface, staring motionlessly at the Narwhal.
Charles wasn't curious about where the body had come from; he'd seen far stranger things at sea. He just wanted a good target for his new cannon.
BOOM! The deck gun's recoil sent a violent shudder through the ship.
Charles wasn't much of a shot, but after he fired a dozen or so rounds, the bloated corpse was instantly blown to bits.
Whatever force had made it stand up, it had to lie down in the face of cannon fire.
Charles was certain that if he had been commanding this ship when he encountered that beacon monster, the outcome would have been completely different.
After testing the new ship's various capabilities, Charles turned his gaze to the sea chart on the wall.
It was the chart from the Explorer Association. With this and a compass, they could find their target.
"First, follow Route 6. When we reach Beacon 68, turn south toward the destination," Charles said, tracing a path on the sea chart with his finger.
"Got it, Captain!" the second officer at the helm replied. The red-haired man looked quite excited, his eyes darting everywhere.
"I remember your name is... Krona?"
"Yes, Captain, that's my name. My mother gave it to me. Captain, is it true, like Frey said, that you once explored an island? And that monster could really create a non-existent person from someone's memory? How did you figure them out?"
Charles's brow furrowed slightly, as if he had recalled something unpleasant. "Just focus on steering the ship. The first mate will come to relieve you when your shift is over."
Watching his captain push the door open and leave, Krona was a bit confused. Did I ask something I shouldn't have? I even had some compliments prepared…
The days at sea passed one by one. The old crew and the new crew gradually learned to work together. Apart from Deep, who, being so young, struggled to command the others' respect, everyone else was getting along fine.
The Narwhal was fast. After just seven days, they reached the waters near their target.
Bright beams of light swept across the dark sea, searching for the island.
The sea chart and compass only provided a general location; they would have to find the exact coordinates the slow and steady way.
In the cockpit, Krona glanced at Charles beside him. "Captain, I've heard some people at sea have special ways to find islands, much better than searching blindly like this. I think it's some kind of Magic. Do you know how?"
"Cut the chatter and steer the ship," Charles said, thinking his second officer was far too talkative.
"I… I have a way…" The bandaged man, sitting on a stool, spoke up, which was a rare occurrence.
As both men turned their gaze toward him, the bandaged man continued slowly, "In the Sect… there is a… ritual… to pray for… Futan God's help. It requires… a human sacrifice."
Charles looked at the bandaged man with a complicated expression. It was clear his first mate had not yet escaped the Futan Sect's influence. He could only hope that time would ease the cult's brainwashing.
"Forget all that disgusting stuff. We don't need it."
"Captain, look! What's that!" Charles followed the second officer's pointing finger. In the distance, the blurry outline of an island appeared before him. They had found it.
The excited crew members all gathered on deck, gazing at the distant island.
Having learned from past experience, Charles didn't rush to make landfall. Instead, he had the Narwhal circle the island to observe it.
The lights had a limited range, so they could only see the island's periphery. It was huge; even at the Narwhal's speed, it took three hours to complete a full circuit. Under the beams of light, the island appeared utterly barren.
The most common feature was bizarrely shaped rocks. Some were as tall as three or four-story buildings, while the smallest were half the height of a person. They were scattered far apart, almost as if following some hidden pattern. For a moment, Charles had the strange feeling he had stumbled into a quarry.
"Can people even live here?" Deep asked hesitantly, a question no one could answer.
Charles knew that whether it was habitable or not, the island was certainly dangerous. This was a danger level 5 island; five Exploration Ships that had come to explore it had never returned.
"Throw some live fish ashore. Let's see if there are any meat-eaters on the island."
At Charles's command, crew members tossed several sea fish onto the beach. They had deliberately cut the fish to let the scent of blood spread through the air. Everyone watched with uneasy anticipation.
Deprived of water, the fish soon suffocated and died. Half an hour passed. Suddenly, Charles spotted a pair of eyes glowing from within the rock piles.
SQUEAK! SQUEAK!
Black fur, a long tail, and beady black eyes the size of peas—it was an ordinary rat.
Under the watchful eyes of the entire crew, the rat scampered over to a dead fish and began to gnaw on it.
Looks of delight spread across the crew's faces. The appearance of a normal creature was good news. If rats could live on the island, then humans probably could too.
But before their joy could last, more greedy eyes emerged from among the rocks. Swarms of rats surged toward the dead fish like a dark tide. In an instant, the white sand was covered by a writhing carpet of black-brown fur.
A chorus of chewing sounds rose and fell along the coast, sending a chill down the spines of everyone on the ship.
"Uh… that's a lot of rats…" Second Officer Krona said, looking at his captain with a forced smile.