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The doors behind him closed, cutting off the hollow gaze of the goat’s head.

But Duncan could still perceive the Homeloss with clarity, feeling every minute change aboard the Ghost Ship—in this empathy that felt like an extension of his own limbs, he “saw” the Homeloss’s sails meticulously adjusting their angles to the sea breeze, and the black helm at the ship’s stern steering ever so slightly, further stabilizing the Homeloss amidst the waves.

As he had expected, the goat’s head had temporarily taken over the helm, diligently fulfilling its duties as the first mate—though Duncan could take over the ship himself at any time.

When compared to when he steered directly, the Homeloss was somewhat less agile and slower, but Duncan’s main objective now was to further disperse the fog on the sea chart; with no clear destination or route in mind, he wasn’t bothered by this minor impact.

After confirming there were no unusual movements from the goat’s head and that the gothic automaton below deck was staying quietly in its room, Duncan let out a light sigh and glanced around the not-so-large cabin.

This was his private quarters as captain and the most comfortable, well-decorated room on the Homeloss. Besides a soft bed, there was a classic wardrobe against the wall opposite the door and a shelf with many strange objects, while a dark brown desk stood opposite the bed, though there were no books on it, just a few decorations and tools for writing and drawing.

Next to the desk was a window through which he could look out at the distant sea; on the wall beside the window were several hooks—his pirate sword and the flintlock pistol he was now carrying had hung from these hooks before.

Duncan walked to the desk, set the longsword and flintlock pistol in a convenient place, then opened the drawer to check the gunpowder and lead shot in a wooden box.

A small brass Compass lay beside the lead shots and powder bag. Duncan picked up the Compass and saw the needle under the glass case still spinning wildly, as if it were being pulled by an invisible, chaotic force field, and engraved on the bottom was a line of tiny text—

“We are all wanderers.”

Duncan absentmindedly played with the Compass in his hand, watching the needle spin around as if it was drunk.

All these things here were things he had checked many times. In the initial exploration, he had found this room, and these items, including that line of text, must have been left by the real Captain Duncan.

After mentally reviewing the information he had, Duncan exhaled slowly, set the Compass back on the table, and then lifted his right hand to gently rub his fingertips.

A small green flame ignited at his fingertips, and under the glow of the flame, Duncan’s palm immediately took on a transparent and ethereal quality, resembling that of a Spiritual Body—but under his deliberate control, the flame did not spread as it had before but hovered above his finger like a candle flame.

Once the flame was stable, Duncan used his other hand to feel the flame and then took a feather quill from the side to touch the flame with the quill’s end.

Feeling no heat and the quill not igniting, only a tint of ghastly green spread along the shaft, casting a faint glow on the feather.

Duncan did not “feel” any feedback from the quill, which was utterly different from when he used the flame to touch the sea chart or the helm.

Duncan silently noted the new experience—that the “Spiritual Body’s Fire” neither had temperature nor ignited anything, and it was very likely to interact solely with “anomalous” things on the Homeloss, showing no feedback to ordinary objects.

So what about “anomalous” objects from outside the Homeloss… Would the flame react then?

Duncan pondered, and for a moment, the image of a gothic automaton flashed in his mind—Alice, wasn’t she an “anomaly” from outside the Homeloss?

Would she be affected by this fire of the Spiritual Body?

But it was just a fleeting thought, which he immediately cast aside.

Even if Alice was not human, even if she was the cursed “Anomalous 099,” she was also a sentient individual who could speak and walk, and now a “crew member” of the Homeloss; Duncan had subconsciously begun to regard her as a “person.”

He couldn’t accept using living beings to test his flames—after all, he wasn’t sure what far-reaching effects the flame might have on the affected “anomalies,” or whether it would be harmful.

Next, Duncan had conducted several tests, checking the properties of the flame while trying to determine if there was anything with transcendent attributes hidden behind the various objects in the bedroom.

Eventually, his gaze landed on the small brass Compass inscribed with “a message.”

The brass Compass lay silently on the table; its needle spun erratically under the glass cover. But Duncan couldn’t shake the feeling that when he rested his “malevolent” gaze upon it while maintaining the flame, the needle seemed to pause for a moment.

Then, it resumed spinning in place as if nothing had happened.

Duncan: “…”

That thing had definitely reacted to his gaze just now!

Initially, he was wary of the Compass, as it bore the handwriting of “the real Captain Duncan,” and he feared that the ghost captain, long since dead, might have left some kind of power or “trap” on his personal item to ward off thieves. Therefore, he refrained from testing the Compass with the flame. But after witnessing the reaction it produced, he abruptly made up his mind.

Duncan reached out and picked up the Compass, the cool touch reaching his fingertips. After glancing at the still erratically spinning needle, he placed the Compass into his right hand, which was sustaining the Spiritual Fire, and slowly clenched his fist.

The ghostly green flame flowed instantly like burning fat, spreading through the gaps between his fingers. The surface of the Compass quickly ignited with a faint ghostly light, and within the flames, countless phantoms surged and dissipated. In the next instant, the erratic needle stopped abruptly and pointed directly to a certain direction over the vast sea.

Duncan’s heart stirred. In that instant, he clearly felt the “feedback” from the Compass, confirming it indeed was an “anomalous item” that could be governed by the Spiritual Fire. But before he could focus on the details of the feedback, a sudden and overwhelming “gravity” assaulted him!

Duncan felt his body sway momentarily, and in the next second, his vision blurred. The furnishings of the captain’s cabin had, unbeknownst to him, dissolved into nothingness, and with them, the surrounding walls and ceiling disintegrated like snowflakes, disappearing in the flurry of light and shadow that filled his sight with boundless darkness.

Standing bewildered at the heart of this darkness, alarm bells rang in Duncan’s mind. His first instinct was to reach for the firelock and Longsword at his side, but in the next second, he realized that all that remained was the brass Compass, still clasped in his hand.

Duncan blinked, and as he did, countless fine, threadlike lightwaves began to emanate from around the brass Compass.

These lightwaves spread and intertwined in the darkness, weaving endlessly outwards, and between the interwoven lights, countless starlight spots emerged, some scattered and isolated, some converging like rivers. Against the backdrop of the light network, they shone with the brilliance of a galaxy.

Duncan watched the marvel unfolding before him, feeling vigilant yet uneasy, but for some reason, he didn’t feel any sense of danger, and even…

Between the dim network of lights and starry points, he felt an unfamiliar comfort and relief he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

The next second, a strange sensation arrived, and Duncan’s gaze was involuntarily drawn to a cluster of starlight within the interwoven light. He looked at the cluster, which seemed precariously close to plunging into the darkness.

He instinctively reached out towards the starlight.

A tremendous pull came at that moment—Duncan felt as if his soul was lifted. He found himself rushing towards the dimming light, and the dense network of lightwaves from the Compass receded in his vision. The rivers of starlight formed by the gathering stars also suddenly began to twist and turn!

As he hurtled forward, he subconsciously looked at his right hand, gripping the Compass, but saw that it had disappeared without a trace. At the same time, just before he was about to touch the dim starlight, he glimpsed a shadowy figure emerging from the darkness out of the corner of his eye.

The shadow seemed to have been there as naturally as his own, accompanying him and plunging towards the dim light point just as he did.

Duncan could barely discern that the figure was a bird in flight. Before he could make out the details, all went dark.

A heavy sensation from the real world hit his limbs and he was also assaulted by the revolting stench of rot and the grating sound of heavy chains dragging across the floor.

(Damn it!)