Chapter 12: The Ghost Ship Captain and the Cursed Doll
At the grand navigation desk, the captain of the Holoss, Duncan, and the cursed doll Alice sat facing each other.
The atmosphere between the two (although both may not be human) was anything but amicable.
The doll, who called herself “Alice,” still looked sowhat nervous. Despite the Ghost Ship captain’s promise of temporary safety, in the presence of Duncan’s naturally intimidating face—a solid 10 to awe—it was clear even the cursed doll couldn’t feel at ease.
She sat with dignified poise on top of her own coffin lid, but the fingers secretly clenched together, clutching the hem of her dress, gave away her unease.
Duncan, anwhile, remained silent, thoughtfully observing the lady… “lady” before him.
A doll driven by so unknown force, a being that was clearly not made of flesh and blood yet could speak, walk, and even had so body heat—”a supernatural entity.” If this were back in his hotown, it would be a subject for “Approaching Science”—and it would easily make up three and a half episodes.
Duncan didn’t know what kind of existence dolls like Alice represented in this world, but during his days of interaction with the Goat-Headed, he had managed to glean so information indirectly. He knew that although “transcendent phenona” existed in this world, various transcendent beings were not commonly seen. And the doll miss…
Duncan suspected that even in this enigmatic world, she must belong to so special existence.
His speculation was not without basis—the chanical-powered ship that collided head-on with the Holoss was quite new, and it had a well-trained crew. He had seen with his own eyes that, despite being in great terror, many of the sailors had held on to their posts. Moreover, there were many compartnts and items on that ship whose purposes were unclear, with complex runes marked on many items, and the style of those markings was very similar to the symbols on the surface of Alice’s “spirit coffin”…
In other words, such a state-of-the-art vessel’s purpose of sailing was most likely to escort… or rather, “transport” the cursed doll, Alice.
Duncan adjusted his position in his seat and watched Alice with a relaxed but serious gaze—there was no doubt that his ship had gained a significant “guest.”
But on the other hand, the doll miss didn’t seem to be a frightening person. In fact, she appeared to be quite timid.
After all, she had gotten so frightened at their first eting that her own head had fallen off without him having said anything.
“Excuse …” Perhaps it was Duncan’s prolonged silence and gaze that had imposed too much pressure, for Alice finally couldn’t help but speak up, “and…”
“Where are you from?” Duncan finally withdrew the intense gaze that had been sowhat overpowering and asked in a more anable tone.
Alice seed to pause for a mont as if she was interpreting the aning of Duncan’s question. After a few seconds, she gently tapped the ornate wooden box beneath her with her finger, “From here.”
Duncan’s expression instantly beca a bit rigid: “…”
“I, of course, know that you were lying in this box before,” he coughed lightly twice, “but I am asking where you are from—location, do you understand? Do you have a holand? Or sothing that could be considered a starting point?”
Alice thought carefully and then shook her head candidly, “I don’t rember.”
“Don’t rember?”
“Where does a doll have a holand?” Alice folded her hands neatly on her lap, answering solemnly and dignifiedly, “Most of my mories are of lying in this box. I lay here being transported from one place to another, occasionally sensing vaguely that there are people moving or standing guard outside the box… Ah, I also rember so low conversations. Those people guarding my wooden box, they talked about so things in a fearful and tense tone…”
Duncan raised his eyebrows, “Discuss so matters? What were they discussing around you?”
“Just so boring trivialities.”
“But I’ve grown curious,” Duncan said seriously—he believed those might really be just boring trivialities, but now he truly needed to understand this world as much as possible, even the idle chatter of ordinary people.
“…All right, the most frequently heard term is ‘anomaly 099’—they seem to use that to refer to and my wooden box, but I don’t like it, I have a na,” Alice recounted, “Besides that, I occasionally heard them talk about seals and curses, but those mories are mostly hazy. I sleep in the box and don’t really listen to the noises outside.”
The doll spoke at a relaxed pace, then as if suddenly rembering sothing, she added, “However, I do rember the recent stuff. That must have been before I ca aboard your ship, the voices outside the wooden box often ntioned a place, Plunder City-State, that seems to be their destination… should that also be my destination?”
“Plunder City-State?” Duncan’s gaze grew introspective as he silently noted the na in his mind.
He had finally learned sothing useful, even though he had no idea when this piece of information would co in handy.
He then looked up, focusing once again on the doll miss before him, “Anything else?”
“Besides that, I spent most of the ti sleeping, Captain,” Miss Doll said earnestly, “When you’re locked in a casket-like box, with muffled, drowsy whispers constantly seeping into your ears, what else can you do but sleep? Do sit-ups in your coffin?”
The corner of Duncan’s mouth twitched.
Graceful and beautiful with her head firmly on, but in reality, not only would she sail the seas nimbly atop a coffin lid but she’d also suddenly spout out jaw-dropping nonsense.
He quickly constructed a new image of Miss Alice in his mind.
But on the surface, he still maintained the composed and dignified deanor of Captain Duncan, rely acknowledging with a noncommittal hum before continuing, “So, other than being drowsy in the wooden box, you know nothing about the outside world, you can’t tell about the current changes of this world, nor can you point out where any specific port or city-state is located.”
“I’m afraid that’s the case, Captain,” Miss Doll nodded solemnly, then as if suddenly realizing sothing, her eyes widened slightly and she looked at Duncan nervously, “So… are you planning to throw overboard again? Because I’m of no value anymore?”
Before Duncan could speak, Alice quickly continued, “Alright, I understand, after all, it’s your ship, but could you not stuff cannons into the box this ti? To be honest… eight cannons is slightly excessive…”
It was clear that Miss Doll was not in the best of moods—but she didn’t dare to explode.
Duncan felt awkward too, his embarrassnt stemming from not considering that he would have to discuss packing cannons into the box like a rational person afterward—back then, he only saw Alice in the box as a typical cursed doll from a horror movie, with images fitting that scenario flooding his mind… Who would have thought this cursed doll ca not from ‘Ju-On’ but from a Quadrangle Courtyard?
So the preparations he made to fight a terrible curse were now a source of embarrassnt.
But what made Duncan good was his thick skin, and that formidable and stern face carved onto him like it had been chiseled with an axe, allowed him to maintain his composure as long as his nerves didn’t short circuit. Thus, he forcefully ignored the embarrassnt brought by the eight cannons, simply shaking his head nonchalantly, “I have yet to decide whether to throw you overboard again, especially since you seem to find a way back onto the ship every ti. I’m just curious, why do you insist on returning to the Holoss? Clearly, you’re very wary of , and of this ship—so why not stay away from this danger?”
“The ship is called the Holoss? Well, I am a bit… afraid of you and your ship, but isn’t the deep sea far more dangerous?” Miss Doll quietly watched the ghost captain before her, in her view, this tall man was backed by a vast expanse of dark void, overlaying with the real scenery of the ship’s cabin, as if two worlds were forcibly stacked together. But compared to the suffocatingly imnse shadow of voidness, those things from the “deeper” parts of the Endless Sea posed a greater danger to her, known as anomaly 099, “In this world, is there anything more terrifying than the deep sea?”
(Holy moly!)
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