"Where did you go?" Charles asked, looking up from the sea chart as the mouse opened the door.
"Went out to play," Lily replied sullenly, sounding utterly dejected.
"Are you hungry? There's some food on my desk."
"Let the other mice eat it. I've already eaten." Utterly drained of energy, Lily climbed onto the pillow and lay down flat.
Looking at the clearly upset mouse, Charles appeared a bit puzzled. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with this little mouse again. Hadn't things already blown over?
But he was in no mood to indulge her bad habits. He grabbed her by the tail and spun her straight onto the desk.
"I found you a few books about operating gun turrets. Hurry and read them. Tomorrow, I'll take you to the harbor for training."
Lily stared at the stack of books taller than herself and instinctively resisted. "I'm not reading them! And I already know how to operate the guns!"
"Quit the nonsense. Becoming a qualified gunner isn't that easy. You're my crew now, so I have to get you up to standard. Out at sea, all sorts of strange things can happen—your tiny weakness could get everyone killed."
Charles opened a book and tossed the mouse onto it.
Under the captain's coercion, Lily was forced to chew on books way beyond what was appropriate for her age.
But in this high-pressure environment, her gloom and sadness quickly faded. The cheerful Lily returned, endlessly complaining to Charles all day long.
With the mouse pestering him like this, even the usually taciturn Charles became more talkative. For the first time, the apartment felt a bit lively.
Half a month passed quickly. With Lily's preliminary training complete, Charles once again led his rested crew on a new mission.
The last island they explored was already the outermost Fifth Grade island, so this time Charles took a mission to the northernmost sea area.
Generally, exploring the open sea was a little safer than exploring islands. But with the Abyss-Sea, who could really say for sure?
The return of Lily the mouse surprised the other crew members. At Charles's hint, nobody asked too many questions. They only knew one thing: the Narwhal now had a mouse gunner.
The Narwhal's smokestack puffed out black smoke again, and under the stares of the dockworkers, the ship slowly disappeared from view.
Life at sea was as tranquil as ever. The occasional unknown creatures that crawled aboard were swiftly dealt with.
Entering unmarked waters for the second time, the crew was much calmer.
Perhaps because no one was lost on the last mission, the crew was feeling very positive about their new one.
Even after only half a month of rest, everyone's face was brimming with confidence. Second Officer Krona even wanted to bring his cousin aboard to get rich with him.
In private, the crew members were all guessing how soon they would discover a new island and strike it rich with their captain.
In the cockpit, Charles held a pen, calculating the ship's current position on the sea chart based on its speed and direction.
Originally, this was the navigator's job, but now he handled it himself. This task could not be taken lightly. If the coordinates were off by even a tiny bit, it would mean a world of difference in their actual location.
After triple-checking that the day's coordinates were correct, Charles turned to head for the Captain's Room to write in his log.
But as soon as he stepped out the door, he felt a strange sense of wrongness.
Standing in the doorway, Charles turned around, taking in everything in the cockpit.
The Narwhal's cockpit was much larger than the Rat's—about half the size of a classroom.
At the moment, Deep, the sailor chief, was at the helm, while Bandage, the first mate, sat nearby overseeing the navigation. The two were chatting.
"Hey, First Mate Bandage, did you know? James actually went and got married in secret! He got married and didn't even invite us. Don't you think he's being a bit of a bad friend?"
"Left rudder fifteen... Increase speed by five knots..." Bandage muttered commands woodenly, as if he hadn't heard the sailor chief's grumbling.
As his gaze swept around the cockpit, Charles finally pinpointed what felt off. He strode over to Bandage and tore the bandage off his severed leg.
The thigh that Anna had devoured was actually growing back. A section of pitch-black, tattooed flesh starkly contrasted with the new, bright white skin that had grown in.
Deep had obviously noticed this miracle, too. His eyes widened to their limit as he exclaimed, "My god, you can regrow a chopped-off leg? Are you some kind of octopus from the sea?"
"Keep your eyes on the helm!" Charles barked. The curious Deep immediately shrank back.
Charles pointed at the regrowing leg and asked Bandage, "Care to explain this? I've never heard of Futan Sect followers having any special limb regeneration powers."
"I... I don't know, either... My memory is a mess... I've been to lots of places... experienced lots of things, but my memories just vanish..."
Bandage pressed his hands to his head, a hint of pain flitting across his face. "I don't think my name is Bandage... but I'm not sure..."
Seems like this guy has a story to tell, too. Charles sighed quietly to himself.
He reached out and patted Bandage's shoulder. "It's alright. If you can't remember the past, don't force it. All that matters now is that you're the first mate of the Narwhal."
Seated on the stool, Bandage looked up, forcing the corners of his mouth into an incredibly strange smile. "Thank you... Captain."
After speaking, he picked up a long, black needle and began deftly jabbing it into his newly grown thigh. A row of tiny characters appeared on his leg: *Captain Charles can be trusted.*
"First mate, you really don't need to—"
"Captain! There's something wrong! Look outside!"
Hearing Deep's panicked voice, Charles immediately shifted his gaze out the window.
Bright yellow flakes fluttered down, swaying as they fell. The scene reminded Charles of snow on Earth. But there are no skies in the Abyss-Sea—how could there be snow?
Facing the anomaly, Charles, as the captain, immediately issued orders. "Everyone get below deck! Full speed out of this area!"
The bright yellow "snow" accumulated thicker and thicker on the deck, and the atmosphere on the Narwhal grew tense.
As the Narwhal rumbled, the smokestack began billowing thick black smoke.
With his nerves stretched taut, Charles stared intently at the pitch-black sea, not even daring to blink.
WHOOSH... WHOOSH... A howling sound rose up as the sea began to churn with waves.
A ridiculous notion popped into his mind. Is... is this wind? There's wind in the Abyss-Sea? Could we be getting close to an entrance to the surface?
Suddenly, something clicked. Charles's pupils shrank to pinpoints. He seized the red lever and yanked it hard. From the roof of the cockpit, the searchlight that normally swept the sea's surface shot upward, pointing toward the void above.
Charles dashed outside and looked up. Instantly, his whole body began to tremble uncontrollably. A fear unlike anything he had ever felt before seized him body and soul.
Right above the Narwhal, a gigantic eye covering half the expanse overhead loomed, staring directly down at him.