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Real life is different from bizarre stories, and the biggest difference is that when you live in reality, you have to consider a plethora of real and trivial details—

Does a moving cursed doll need joint maintenance? Will Alice constantly disassembling her joints cause her to suddenly fall apart while walking one day? And are the salted meat and dried cheese on the ghost ship expired?

Does a superhero who entertains by day and fights evil forces by night ever sleep—and do the evil forces that fight against superheroes normally need to go to the supermarket to buy things?

Stories never tell you these things. In stories, the characters are always as pristine as snow and as fleeting as the wind. In stories, a cursed doll only needs to emerge from a corner to scare people, just as the captain of a ghost ship never worries about only having century-old salted meat and hard cheese aboard.

In reality, a cursed doll after soaking in seawater becomes itchy all over, and taking a bath requires figuring out how to deal with the salt crystals in the joints…

Standing outside the cabin, Duncan sighed, realizing more clearly that surviving on this ship long-term would take more than just determination.

He also had to consider a whole array of practical problems, especially after the number of crew members increased.

Duncan was well aware the ghost ship wasn’t overflowing with supplies.

The ship had an unlimited supply of fresh water, but only fresh water. The food stored in the pantry, after consumption, didn’t replenish itself, and the only edible things were salted meat and hard cheese. Due to the Homeloss’s unique nature, there were no signs of rot, but Duncan reasonably suspected they had been stored for at least a century.

Besides, the ship lacked replacement clothing suitable for Alice’s size (though the cursed doll had never mentioned such a need), and there were no means of entertainment—not even a set of chess or a deck of cards.

The Endless Sea was vast and boundless, but it was difficult for Homeloss to get real supplies from this vast ocean. The ship seemed to lack a reliable “home port” for docking and repairs, let alone channels of communication with civilizations on land.

The goat-head didn’t seem to have ever considered this problem, but Duncan was now seriously pondering—it was necessary to find a way to improve the current lack of supplies on Homeloss.

Furthermore, he was thinking about how to establish contact with the “City-States” on land.

Drifting aimlessly at sea was an extremely inefficient method of exploration. Information about this world had to be obtained from land, which was Duncan’s deepest realization after “walking in the Spirit Realm.”

Putting that aside, even for the sake of his own mental and physical health, he had to try to make more contact with those “City-States” on land and engage with the civilized world—otherwise, he was really worried that after a long period of drifting, he might actually become a twisted, gloomy, and reclusive ghost ship captain.

Thinking this, Duncan turned his head slightly to look at the pigeon Ai Yi, who was neatly perched on his shoulder, preening its feathers.

His gaze primarily fell on the brass Compass on Ai Yi’s chest.

The pigeon cocked its head to look at its “master” and suddenly blurted out, “Start a sub-base! Lay a mycelium mat! Hey, do you know how to operate it?”

Duncan was silent for a moment. Although the pigeon was mostly erratic, the things it occasionally blurted out were so apt that one couldn’t help but suspect it was feigning foolishness.

As it stood, “walking in the Spirit Realm” seemed to be the only viable method to reach the land City-States.

Although this method seemed too uncertain and mysterious mishaps such as “Ai Yi” had occurred after its last use, Duncan knew he would soon undertake another walk in the Spirit Realm—not only to collect intelligence from the land but also to quickly verify and master a very useful ability.

Just as important as the Spirit Realm walks was the “special ability” of the pigeon Ai Yi to bring back a ritual dagger from the distant lands.

If it could bring back a dagger, could it carry more items? What were the patterns and limitations of this bird’s item transport? Could this process be controlled intentionally?

After some thought, Duncan decided to directly ask the pigeon, “Do you know how you brought back that dagger?”

The pigeon pondered and replied gravely, “You need more crystal ore.”

Duncan: “…”

He decided to temporarily give up communicating with the pigeon; it would be more reliable to try himself during the next Spirit Realm walk.

“`

…

In the ship’s cabin, Alice finally figured out, fumblingly, how to use the water pipes, and roughly grasped how a bath ought to be taken.

On the limited conditions of the Ghost Ship, she could only take a cold bath, but for a living doll, this was not an issue at all.

However, before jumping into the tub, Alice decided to first greet everything in the cabin.

She patted the huge oak barrel and knocked on the pillars supporting the cabin. She kicked the floor beneath her feet with the tip of her toe and reached up on tiptoe to fiddle with the ropes and hooks hanging from the ceiling.

“Hello, I’m Alice,” she cheerfully greeted these cold entities, just as she had greeted the gentleman with the goat’s head before, “I will be living on this ship from now on.”

Nothing in the cabin responded to her greeting, but Alice didn’t mind at all.

The gentleman with the goat’s head had said that the Homeloss was alive, many things on this ship were alive.

Although they did not seem to have the same “Spiritual Intelligence” as the goat’s head, nor even the ability to communicate, that did not prevent Alice from treating the entire Homeloss as a “neighbor” who deserved to be greeted.

The Homeloss was a living thing, and so was she.

Convinced her greeting was courteous and appropriate, Alice felt even happier; only then did she slip off her splendid dress and clumsily climb into the oak tub filled with water.

First step, remove the head for a rinse—after all, the joints on the neck were never that sturdy.

The doll lady thought her plan was very sensible.

…

The night in Plunder City-State finally settled after a day of hustle and bustle, and the prosperous “Pearl of the Sea” gradually succumbed to slumber under the pale glow of the night sky.

But amidst the quiet darkness, there were watchmen keeping an eye on the city after it had fallen asleep.

Atop the “Grand Clock Tower”, the tallest building in Plunder City-State, a young lady with grey-white hair and an exceptionally tall and straight posture was standing before a window overlooking the city district.

The lady was beautiful, yet her appearance was somewhat fearsome due to a prominent scar crossing over her left eye. She stood taller than most men and was clad in silver-grey light armor and a battle skirt. She was clearly well-exercised, with muscular limbs and even lines, and a giant sword that emitted a faint silver glow was within easy reach. The handle of the sword was engraved with runes symbolizing waves, and the blade shimmered with a light reminiscent of water ripples.

Behind the lady, the sound of mechanical operation was continuous—the core of the Grand Clock Tower was running smoothly under the power of the steam engine, with complex and precise gear and rod structures penetrating the roof and floor, driving the four clock faces above and the mimicry orrery hidden deep within the building.

By the sound of it, this massive and intricate machine was operating very well, and no evil force had disturbed the sanctity of the steam core.

Yet, Judge Vanna felt a nagging unease in her heart, a dreadful premonition as if something were about to happen, or had already happened, and she was destined to be incapable of stopping it, which made her irritable.

Footsteps came from the direction of the staircase. The lady with grey hair turned toward the sound, and saw an Ocean Priest clad in a long robe approaching from the stairway entrance, holding a copper incense burner with purifying smoke slowly coiling around him.

The priest approached the core pillar in the center of the room, removed the old incense burner hanging from the pillar’s railing, and replaced it with a new one. He watched the smoke drifting from the incense, ensuring it floated unobstructed around the moving gears and rods before he softly recited the name of the Storm Goddess and turned to the grey-haired lady at the window.

“Good evening, Your Honor the Judge—are you on night watch again?”

“I’ve been having bad premonitions, especially of late—and particularly tonight.”

“Bad premonitions? In what way?” the priest asked, lifting his head, his deep eyes filled with concern, “Has the Goddess sent you an omen?”

“No, it’s not such a clear message,” the young female Judge shook her head, “I just have this vague feeling… that something is drawing near the city.”

“`