Chapter 160: “The Most Outstanding Puppeteer”

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On the Vanished, the blazing sun cast its intense light on the impeccably cleaned upper deck. A mysterious, swirling green flame slowly dissipated, revealing an array of items scattered across the deck. Alice, the puppet lady, stood in stunned silence, her eyes wide as she took in the newly appeared objects.

“What is all this?” Alice exclaimed, utterly bewildered.

From a few feet away, Duncan, the ghostly captain, teased, “You’re stumbling over your words as if your head’s about to detach from your body. Never seen simple pots and pans before, have you?”

Alice quickly turned to face Duncan, who had just emerged from the ship’s interior. “No, I haven’t seen any of these things before!”

Duncan paused, visibly surprised, and then slapped his forehead in realization. “Ah, I forgot. You’ve been confined in that box for years. How could you know about these everyday items? In that sense, you’re more innocent than Shirley.”

As Alice was about to inspect the various items, she paused at the mention of Shirley. “Shirley? Who is that?”

Duncan considered his response carefully. “She’s someone I met while in a human city-state. You might get the chance to meet her someday. You two could probably relate to each other in many ways.”

Alice hummed cheerfully, quickly losing herself in the excitement of exploring the new objects before her.

“This looks like flour… And is this meat? It’s so different from the dried jerky we have on the ship… What’s this? It’s a vegetable, right? But it’s so delicate and cold to the touch… What about this round thing—oh, it broke!”

“Don’t crush the eggs!” Duncan shouted, swiftly stepping forward to swat Alice’s hand away. “These items are here to improve living conditions on the ship, not to be destroyed by your curiosity!”

“Hehe…” Alice giggled, retracting her hand. “I was just curious. I’ve never seen such an assortment of things before.”

Duncan looked at her, feeling a sense of understanding. Alice had an intuitive grasp of language and basic concepts, which she had gained through “listening” to voices outside her confined space. However, her actual experience with the real world was extremely limited, making every newfound object a wonder. She had spent years sealed in a box, and her true introduction to the world began only recently when she joined the crew of the Vanished—a ship not exactly equipped to ease a beginner into life.

Alice’s lack of real-world knowledge was so extreme that even a single leafy green vegetable seemed like a magical discovery.

After a moment, Alice looked at the piles of items—each in colorful packaging—and sighed wistfully, “The human city-state must be an incredible place. It’s got to be much bigger than this ship, doesn’t it?”

“…It’s large, but nowhere near the size of the Boundless Sea,” Duncan replied thoughtfully, his eyes meeting Alice’s. He noticed a glimmer of anticipation in her gaze, reminding him of his promise to take her to a mortal city-state.

“I’ll handle any issues on the city-state end as quickly as possible and unravel the mystery of what you really are,” he said seriously, looking at the puppet in front of him. “Just be patient until then.”

“Okay,” Alice responded, her smile beaming and untroubled.

Her carefree demeanor had its advantages. Lately, Duncan had been burdened with mounting anxieties due to his discoveries in Pland. But Alice’s naive charm allowed him to feel a sense of relief, if only briefly. “Help me move these items into the kitchen. The stuff in this pile can go to my personal quarters.”

“Oooh, OKAY!!” Alice immediately saluted like a seasoned sailor for reasons Duncan couldn’t fathom. “Are these for tonight’s dinner?”

Duncan looked at her skeptically, narrowing his eyes. “They could be. Do you know how to use them?”

“Nope!” Alice cheerfully admitted. “But I could ask Mr. Goathead for help. He claims to be a better cook than 90% of the people in this world.”

“And you actually believe him?” Duncan’s eyes widened as if he’d just heard the most absurd statement ever. “Don’t touch the ingredients until I get there. I’ll handle dinner. If you really want to learn cooking, don’t learn from Goathead. The guy doesn’t even have a digestive system to know what tastes good.”

“Oh,” Alice nodded, a little subdued. Then her eyes wandered to Ai, who was pacing on the deck nearby. “Will Ai be transporting more stuff later?”

“Yes, there’s more to bring aboard,” Duncan confirmed.

“Still shopping?” Alice inquired, her curiosity piqued. “What else are you planning to buy?”

Duncan looked at her, his eyebrow arched in amusement. The gleam in Alice’s eyes told him exactly what she was wondering.

“I’m buying something for you,” he finally said.

Alice looked puzzled, her eyes widening in curiosity.

…..

Meanwhile, in the city-state of Pland, inside Rose’s Doll House…

Duncan had a feeling that the kind elderly elven shop owner might have misunderstood him, but he didn’t bother clarifying. After all, how could he explain? Tell her that he actually had a sentient doll that could laugh with joy and weep with sorrow? Mention that the doll’s “hair” was deteriorating and needed a new wig?

In the best-case scenario, the shop owner would sprint to the nearest church to report him for unholy activities. In the worst case, she might draw upon some elven magic and attempt to exorcise him, like a scene from a fantasy novel.

So, Duncan opted to keep quiet, focusing instead on the task at hand. And in his mind, he couldn’t help but think about Alice’s reaction when she finally saw what he was purchasing for her.

So, what was going through the mind of the elderly elven shopkeeper? From her perspective, she had met a kindred spirit, someone who not only appreciated dolls but was genuinely invested in them. In the high society circles of Pland, there were plenty of doll collectors and enthusiasts, but Duncan’s emotional investment seemed far deeper. When he talked about “dolls,” it felt as if he wasn’t discussing mere objects but living beings—friends, even.

This level of sentimentality towards dolls was something even some professional puppeteers lacked.

Their conversation flowed easily, and Duncan gleaned quite a bit of knowledge about dolls from someone who clearly knew her craft. Though he wasn’t sure how much of this newfound information would be applicable to Alice, he appreciated the enlightenment. The elven shopkeeper appeared genuinely pleased to engage with a customer who shared her depth of interest. After some time, she chuckled and let out a reflective sigh.

“I’ve resided in this city for four hundred years, spanning the tenures of seventeen different city administrators. Yet, none seemed to understand dolls as you do,” she said. “I may be stepping out of line here, but humans often come across as a far more indifferent species compared to us elves.”

Seeing an opportunity to learn more about elven culture, Duncan took the bait. “I can’t claim to know much about elven society, but I’ve heard that Wind Harbor is home to some of the world’s most accomplished craftsmen. Your race’s knack for craftsmanship is legendary.”

The elderly elf’s eyes twinkled, her voice imbued with a sense of pride. “Yes, elves have an innate affinity for intricate crafts. We’re a race that naturally excels in both mathematical and artistic pursuits, which probably explains why many of the world’s renowned puppeteers are elves.” But then her tone shifted, taking on a note of regret. “However, there’s a common prejudice against us from puppeteers of other races. They claim that our craftsmanship isn’t genuinely skilled, suggesting that we churn out master puppeteers merely because our long lifespans allow us the time to perfect our craft.”

Caught off guard by this revelation, Duncan fumbled for words. “Well, I suppose that’s a dynamic found everywhere. Those who share your profession are often your fiercest competitors. What’s your take on their viewpoint?”

The elderly elf burst into hearty laughter. “Me? I think they’re absolutely correct!”

Duncan was left puzzled, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Excuse me?”

The implication was a curious one, suggesting that perhaps the line between natural talent and hard-earned skill wasn’t as clear-cut as people liked to think. Regardless, Duncan found himself fascinated by the enigmatic complexities of the elven shopkeeper’s worldview—another intriguing layer added to an already complex tapestry.

“I think they’re right,” the elderly elf repeated, a gentle smile gracing her features. “Every year on the Day of the Dead, I make it a point to visit the graves of several of my former colleagues to pay my respects. I tell them that they were right, and if they have the power to, they should come back and best me!”

Duncan was left speechless, baffled by the sudden turn in the conversation.

Were all elves like this? Why did the dialogue take such an unexpected and bewildering turn?

“Ah, I’m only jesting,” the elderly elf said, perhaps noticing Duncan’s bewildered expression. She shook her head dismissively, changing the subject. “In reality, we don’t harbor that level of animosity within our craft. It’s more of an inside joke among us puppeteers; we often indulge in humor during our fleeting meetings. But if you really want to know, I think the most accomplished puppeteer is not an elf but a human.”

“A human?” Duncan asked, trying to keep his tone casual despite his intrigue.

“Yes, her name might not ring a bell with most people nowadays,” the elderly elf continued, her voice tinged with a touch of nostalgia and reverence. “Her name is Lucretia Abnomar, the daughter of the famous ‘Captain Duncan.’ She’s the most remarkable puppeteer I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

Duncan’s eyes widened in astonishment, his heart racing.

“Captain Duncan? That’s… that’s me!”

The coincidence was staggering, and for a moment, Duncan felt as if the universe had folded in on itself. His thoughts raced through a maze of emotions—surprise, confusion, and an overwhelming sense of curiosity. What were the chances that he’d stumble upon someone who not only knew of him but spoke of a daughter he had no memory of? What’s more, a daughter who was a reputed puppeteer?

He had ventured into this shop seeking information about dolls, but what he found was a link to a part of his life that he couldn’t remember or hadn’t yet discovered. The room seemed to close in on him, and he sensed that he stood on the cusp of unraveling a much deeper, more personal mystery.

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