Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Alice.

Duncan felt he would probably never forget this scene for the rest of his life.

On the eerie, dangerous Boundless Sea, an ornate spirit coffin rose and fell with the swells, while a gothic doll driven by some mysterious force stood inside it, clutching a huge coffin lid in both hands, riding the waves straight toward him…

And she didn’t look very happy about it.

No matter how he looked at it, the whole thing was far too creepy. For a moment, Duncan didn’t even know whether he should be more shocked that the cursed doll was actually moving, or more stunned by the way she swung that coffin lid around with such crushing momentum. All he knew was that this scene was nothing like what he had imagined.

He had pictured several ways she might return to the ship, but he had never once imagined… this.

While Duncan was still staring in a daze, the doll had already reached the stern of the Vanished.

Even though her “oar” was a coffin lid, her paddling speed was shockingly fast. She had a strange lightness and strength about her. Duncan carefully leaned his head out of the viewing window and saw the doll toss the coffin lid back into the spirit coffin. Then she reached out, grabbed a protruding timber at the stern, and began to climb up at incredible speed—agile and swift, as if invisible ropes were pulling her upward.

At the same time, the heavy wooden chest rose from the sea in a bizarre way, floating at her side as if it had lost all its weight.

Duncan quickly ducked his head back in before the doll noticed him.

The doll clearly had no idea that the captain of this ghost ship had been watching her in secret. In almost the blink of an eye, she climbed up the tall stern of the Vanished and flipped herself onto the deck.

She waved a finger in the air, and the spirit coffin that had been floating beside her drifted down and landed neatly at her feet. Then she turned her head this way and that, as if checking the deck to make sure no one was around. Once she was sure she was alone, she quickly smoothed out her slightly wet dress and started scrambling into the coffin, using both hands and feet.

Halfway in, a pirate sword suddenly thrust out from the side and blocked her. Right after that came the sharp click of a flintlock hammer being pulled back.

The doll froze at once. She tried to turn her head and saw a ghostly captain wreathed in green flames standing beside her, staring coldly at her with his gaze. His voice sounded like it rose from the depths of the Spirit Realm, cold as the Abyssal Deep: “Oh. I caught you, doll.”

In front of Duncan, the doll clearly trembled. She seemed terrified and tried to dodge to the side, but her panicked movement went wrong. Her upper body jerked, Duncan heard a clear “click” from the base of her neck—

And then her head fell off.

Right before Duncan’s eyes, a beautiful head dropped from the doll’s shoulders. Her long silver hair spread out in the sea breeze as the head rolled to his feet.

The doll’s body stayed in its half-crouched pose beside the spirit coffin, ready to run. One hand groped blindly in the air, while the fallen head stared helplessly up at Duncan, mouth opening and closing: “Hel… help… help…”

It was no exaggeration to say that Duncan’s heart almost stopped right then—though he wasn’t even sure if he still had a heart after being burned by ghostly flames. Still, watching that head come off with his own eyes really shook him.

The roaring ghost flames around him hid the horror on his face, and his moment of stunned delay looked to the doll like cold indifference. Miss Doll never even noticed that this terrifying Captain Duncan was actually more nervous than she was. She just kept repeating: “Help… help… my head… fell off…”

Duncan finally snapped out of it. He patted the small heart that now only existed in his imagination and tried his best to control his movements and his voice. He calmly watched the doll for a while and confirmed that, for all her strange and uncanny traits, she seemed… more afraid of him, this “ghost captain”, than he was of her.

Once this fact became clear in his mind, Duncan realized he had to keep up this calm front.

He still didn’t understand this world, and he understood this cursed doll even less. Until he could fully control the situation, the identity of “terrifying Captain Duncan” was his biggest shield.

At the same time, he couldn’t just leave the doll in front of him alone. The way things had turned out was not what he had expected, but the result was clear enough: this doll could communicate with him.

He holstered the flintlock and kept his other hand on his sword. At close range, a flintlock with only one shot was obviously less reliable than a blade, and his rushed practice with firearms was far from enough to make him a skilled gunman.

Then, with his free hand, he picked up the doll’s head from the deck.

The feeling was very strange. Even though he knew she was only a cursed doll, the act of reaching down and grabbing a “head” still made Duncan uneasy.

The faint warmth coming from the head almost made him want to fling it away on reflex.

This was just too creepy and uncanny.

But in the end he held back that strange urge. He looked the head in the eyes and asked calmly: “Do you want me to put this back for you?”

“My… my… my…”

“Fine, you do it yourself,” Duncan said, nodding as he passed the head to the doll’s hand, which was still groping blindly in the air.

He watched as those hands caught their own head with practiced ease, fingers nimble. She casually smoothed her messy silver hair, adjusted the angle a little, and set the head back on her neck. A crisp click sounded as the ball joint locked perfectly into place.

The whole process flowed smooth as water. It was clear this was not her first time doing it.

Right after that, the doll’s stiff face turned lively again. She blinked and let out a long breath: “Whew… I’m alive again.”

Duncan: “…”

From any angle, he felt like he should say something about that. But then he remembered the persona of “Captain Duncan” and the fact that he still knew nothing about this doll’s background. So in the end he only nodded to her with a blank face and said: “Good. Now you’re coming with me—we need to talk. You’ve come onto my ship again and again.”

As he spoke, he let the ghostly flames around him fade away and returned to his original appearance.

Transforming into his spirit form was a power he had gained after taking the wheel of the Vanished. But he had only just come into contact with it and was far from skilled. He had no idea how to really “use” this power yet. Other than steering the ship, he didn’t even know what else it could do.

Just now, he had released it only to create a strong image in front of the weird cursed doll—and to build up his own courage.

Now that his image was set and the doll was very cooperative, there was no point in wasting more energy keeping the flames burning.

The cursed doll obediently stood up beside the coffin. Then she stared in shock as she watched Duncan return to human form. Her eyes went wide: “You… you’re not a ghost?”

Duncan gave her a calm glance: “When it’s necessary, I can be.”

The doll raised a hand to steady her head, and there seemed to be a hint of awe in her eyes.

Duncan had no idea what she was so in awe of, but it was obvious that her head still wasn’t very secure. She had probably almost scared it off again.

He turned and walked toward the captain’s cabin. Through his live link with the Vanished, he could feel the doll hesitate for one or two seconds, then follow after him honestly.

Just as he expected, the ornate and strange spirit coffin also floated close behind her. It seemed she had to take it wherever she went.

A short time later, Duncan led the cursed doll into the captain’s cabin.

Under the carved Goathead’s gloomy gaze, the ghost captain and the cursed doll sat facing each other across the chart table. Duncan sat in his heavy dark-backed chair, while the doll used the coffin-like chest as a seat, sitting on it with graceful poise.

She really was elegant and composed. When she sat quietly, silver hair hanging down, gothic dress spread around her as she perched on the chest, she looked like a work of art that should be displayed in a palace and guarded by soldiers.

Unfortunately, every time Duncan looked at her, he couldn’t help thinking of how this young lady had just been riding the waves on a coffin and then running around with her head falling off…

He sighed, then put his cold, stern expression back on and fixed his gaze on the doll’s eyes: “Name?”

“Alice.”

“Race?”

“Doll.”

“Occupation?”

“Doll… Why are you asking all this?”

Duncan thought for a moment and said: “To get some basic information.”