Chapter 12 “Ghost Captain and Cursed Doll”
This Translation is hosted on bcatranslation.com
Positioned across from each other on the spacious navigational table, Captain Duncan of the Vanished and a mysterious being, a doll named Alice, found themselves in a tense confrontation. Alice, cursed by an unknown force, demanded to be referred to simply as “Alice.”
The doll, a disturbing representation of a woman, emitted a tangible sense of unease. Despite Captain Duncan’s assurance of temporary safety, she remained on edge. His naturally intimidating demeanor created a heavy atmosphere of pressure that was too intense even for her supernatural essence.
Alice managed to maintain a semblance of dignity as she sat atop her coffin lid, although the anxiety within her was evident. Her fingers slightly trembled as they clutched the hem of her skirt, betraying her nervousness.
For his part, Captain Duncan chose to remain silent, intently observing the unusual figure before him. Alice, a doll endowed with mysterious energy, could speak, move, and even generate some body heat despite lacking human tissues. She was a supernatural entity. Back in his homeland, her existence would likely have sparked extensive scientific research and possibly inspired several engaging television episodes.
Duncan found himself contemplating the unique nature of Alice’s existence. His previous encounters, including with a goat head, had hinted at the supernatural elements of this realm. Although such otherworldly occurrences were rare, they were present. And now, he was face to face with this peculiar doll.
Duncan theorized that Alice was unique even within this ghostly and supernatural realm.
His assumptions were based on reality. The modern-designed mechanical ship that had collided with the Vanished was manned by a skilled and disciplined crew. He had noted how, despite their fear, most sailors had held their positions. The ship also contained compartments and items whose functions were mysterious to him, many marked with intricate runes similar to those on Alice’s “coffin.”
It appeared that the technologically advanced ship had been tasked with escorting—or more precisely, transporting—Alice, the cursed doll.
Duncan adjusted his position in his chair, settling into a more relaxed yet attentive posture as he continued to study Alice. Clearly, his vessel had acquired a most remarkable “guest.”
However, viewed differently, the doll didn’t seem particularly threatening. She appeared somewhat shy.
After all, he hadn’t spoken a word before her head had rolled off during their first meeting.
“May I venture a question?” Alice suddenly said, breaking the prolonged, uncomfortable silence between them. The intensity of Duncan’s stare had made the silence nearly unbearable, prompting Alice to interrupt it. “Also…”
“Your origin, where is it?” Duncan finally relaxed the intensity of his gaze that had been pressing down on Alice. He asked the question in a more composed, steady tone, slightly lightening the oppressive atmosphere.
Alice hesitated visibly, her brows furrowing slightly as she tried to grasp the full extent of Duncan’s inquiry. After a few seconds, she lightly tapped the elaborately decorated wooden box, her resting place, with a slender finger. “From here,” she stated simply.
Duncan’s normally expressive face instantly stiffened, his features hardening at Alice’s response. “…”
“Clearly, I know you were resting in this box earlier,” he began, pausing to clear his throat before continuing, “but my question is more about your place of origin—your geographical origin, so to speak. Do you remember any sort of homeland or a place from which you set out?”
Alice paused, thoughtfully considering Duncan’s question before shaking her head with an air of simple honesty. “I can’t remember.”
This Translation is hosted on bcatranslation.com
“You can’t remember?”
“Why would a doll have a homeland?” Alice responded, intertwining her hands in her lap with elegant poise. She looked at Duncan earnestly as she explained, “Most of my memories involve being kept in this box, lying here while being transported from place to place. Occasionally, I might faintly sense the movement of people around me or feel someone guarding the box… Yes, I remember some whispered conversations. The people assigned to watch over me would talk in quiet, anxious tones outside the box…”
Intrigued, Duncan raised an eyebrow. “What kind of topics would they discuss around you?”
“Just everyday matters, nothing special.”
“Yet, I find myself intrigued,” Duncan said, his voice taking on a serious tone. He was quite certain that these conversations were about mundane things, but he felt a strong desire to understand this world as thoroughly as possible, even if it meant listening to the trivial chatter of common folk.
“…Very well then. The term I heard most often was ‘Anomaly 099’—they used it to refer to both me and the wooden box I was kept in. But I don’t care for it much; I have a name,” Alice reflected, her voice tinged with a hint of memory. “Besides that, they sometimes spoke of sealing and curses, but most of these memories are vague and fleeting. I usually slept when I was in the box, not particularly interested in what was happening outside.”
Alice recounted her past calmly and without hurry. Then, as if a forgotten thought had just resurfaced, she added, “Although, there is one thing I do remember quite distinctly, probably something I overheard just before I was brought onto your ship. The voices outside my box often mentioned a place, the city-state of Pland. It seemed to be their destination… and perhaps it was to be mine too?”
“Pland, the city-state?” Duncan’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he mentally cataloged the new information.
He had uncovered a piece of potentially valuable intelligence, though its usefulness remained uncertain.
Raising his gaze, he studied the doll lady sitting across from him. “Is there anything else you can share?” he inquired.
“Beyond that, I largely spend my time asleep, Captain,” the doll lady responded solemnly. “When one is confined in a wooden box that resembles a coffin, with indistinct whispers constantly in one’s ears, there isn’t much else to do but sleep. Am I expected to do sit-ups within the confines of my coffin?”
A faint twitch tugged at the corners of Duncan’s lips.
The lady had a dignified presence, and when her head wasn’t detaching from her neck, she possessed a rather captivating elegance. However, reality painted a somewhat different picture. Not only did she traverse the waves astride a coffin lid, but she also had a knack for irreverent banter that could catch one off guard.
In Duncan’s mind, a new impression of Miss Alice began to solidify.
Nonetheless, he maintained his stoic and commanding exterior, betraying none of his thoughts. He merely grunted noncommittally before continuing, “So, apart from your somnolent existence within the wooden box, you are oblivious to the happenings of the outside world. You can’t inform me about the prevailing changes in this world, nor can you provide specifics about the locations of any ports or city-states.”
“That seems to be the case, Captain,” the doll lady confirmed with an earnest nod. Then, her eyes widened as though a sudden realization had dawned on her. She cast a slightly apprehensive glance at Duncan. “So… do you intend to throw me overboard again, seeing as I don’t possess any value to you?”
Before Duncan could respond, Alice quickly continued, “Alright, I understand. It’s your ship, after all. But could you perhaps refrain from loading the box with cannonballs this time? Honestly… eight cannonballs were rather excessive…”
Her annoyance was palpable, though she tried not to express it explicitly.
Duncan found himself in an equally awkward position. He hadn’t expected to be discussing the situation calmly with the person he had previously confined in a box filled with cannonballs. At that time, he had perceived Alice as a typical cursed doll from a horror narrative, complete with all the associated ghastly imagery…
Reflecting on it, the precautionary measures he had taken to ward off a perceived terrifying curse now seemed humorously misplaced.
However, Duncan possessed an inherent advantage. His skin was thick, toughened by the trials of time, and his resilient exterior was as unyielding as steel. His commanding, somewhat sinister demeanor was deeply ingrained in him, like a well-used blade engaged in relentless cutting. As long as he could keep his nerves steady under pressure, he could maintain his composure. Thus, he chose to blatantly disregard the disconcerting presence of the eight cannonballs, shaking his head with an air of nonchalance. “I’ve yet to decide if throwing you overboard again is the right move. It seems you have a strange ability to find your way back to this ship. I’m curious why you keep returning to the Vanished. It’s obvious you’re wary of me and this ship. Wouldn’t it be smarter to stay away from what you perceive as a threat?”
“So, you call this ship the Vanished?” Alice asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice. “I admit, I am somewhat… afraid of you and your ship, but isn’t the deep, dark ocean a much bigger threat?” The doll-like woman quietly observed the ghostly captain before her. Within her field of vision, the imposing silhouette of the man stood stark against an expansive backdrop of seemingly endless darkness and oblivion. This inky void blended with the tangible reality of the ship’s cabin, creating a surreal vista as if two worlds were forcefully merged. Despite the overwhelming, suffocating emptiness surrounding her, Alice believed that the unknown entities lurking in the “abyssal” depths of the Boundless Sea posed an even greater danger to her existence as Anomaly 099. “In this vast world, is there anything that inspires more fear than the uncharted depths of the sea?”
Thanks for the chapter!
Seems like we need a submarine…..