"My sailor chief has died again, killed by those things. How much longer must these days go on? I'm so weary of holding on.
Sometimes I wonder, could I already be dead and this is Hell?
But then again, it's not possible. The demons of Hell are far cuter than those creatures. Everything here is illogical, including the humans.
When I first arrived, I thought they were in the early stages of the Industrial Revolution, but later I learned that they'd also notched quite a few technological points on the mystical side.
Even so, it's useless. Humans still scurry about, living like ants in survival mode; the dark creatures lying in wait are far too numerous. We aren't the only social civilization here."
Charles's diary entry was interrupted by a knock at the door, and outside came the voice of sailor Deep.
"Captain, Coral Main Island is in sight."
Charles walked to the bow, looking at the lighthouse that flickered on and off in the darkness afar, and breathed a sigh of relief; at least they had finally arrived.
As the Rat approached slowly, the grand island behind the lighthouse also came into clearer view.
The grey-white of coral rock was the dominant color of the island, and the human houses set upon it bore the same hue.
The harbor of the Coral Islands bustled, with steamboats of varying sizes coming and going. Rough sailors waved their hats, cheering in celebration of living through another voyage.
This was a newly developed island, a place where humans could survive, but coral alone was insufficient; it required the resources of other islands, which was why cargo ships like the Rat existed.
Among the crowds passing through the dock, many people had ears that curled inward—these were the locals of the Coral Islands.
If a person lived on the Coral Islands for more than five years, their ears would curl inward for reasons unknown to anyone.
But this didn't stop the eagerness of people from other islands to migrate here; compared to the troubles of other islands, ear deformities were a minor side effect.
After a hasty hand-off with the administration, Charles walked away from the docks with a somewhat unpleasant expression.
He was right to anticipate it—the cargo was less than half of what it should have been, and instead of making a profit, he'd suffered quite a loss. Those two months had essentially been for nothing.
There was a period of time for dock resourcing, during which the crew of the Rat had a brief chance to rest.
Near the docks was a row of mismatched buildings, some of which were inns for the crew to rest, and others were more for leisure and relaxation.
On the lively streets, some ragged beggars lay or sat, muttering words only they understood.
They were sailors driven mad by the Earth Sea, with no one knowing what they had endured. The only way to not end up like them was to remember the iron laws of the sea: don't look, don't listen, don't think.
They were the fortunate ones. More often than not, sailors who endured shipwrecks would simply vanish along with their ships.
The door of the Bat Inn swung open, and in the bright-lit hall, a group of burly men drinking gave an unfriendly look towards the newcomer.
As soon as they caught the scent of the sea from Charles, they casually shifted their gaze away—men who braved the seas and survived were not to be trifled with.
"I'll stay for five days, and I'll have some food, bring it to my room."
"Five days of lodging for 630 Echo Coins, delicious bread and mushroom soup for 30, that's 660 in total."
Within the damp room, Charles savored his lunch. Food in the harbor area wasn't great; he tore the black bread into chunks and dropped them into the thick mushroom soup.
Even after soaking it in soup, the bitter black bread still scratched his throat, but he was used to it.
Charles took out a cell phone from his chest, randomly swiping his finger over food as he ate, the scratched screen always as dark as the skies outside.
Only Charles's slow chewing sounds remained in the single room.
"Captain, are you in there?" Old John's voice suddenly came from outside the door.
Charles quickly tucked away the cell phone, "Come in, the door's unlocked."
The first mate approached cautiously, his face etched with a hint of apology. "Captain, I wanted to tell you, I don't want to do this anymore."
Charles's brows furrowed slightly. "Why? You've seen this sort of thing plenty of times before, haven't you?"
Every time a crew member died, and someone wanted to leave, he was mentally prepared. He had thought the most likely to go would have been Deep, who had nearly wet his pants in fear, yet he had not anticipated it would actually be old John, who had been with him the entire way.
John waved his hands dismissively, "I'm too old, and when I'm steering, I sometimes fall asleep. It's too dangerous, and besides... besides, I want to distance myself from the Earth Sea."
Charles felt even worse, but he didn't try to retain him. Better to part on good terms.
He placed a stack of paper notes on the table, "Here's your share."
John picked up his compensation, but didn't turn to leave, standing there with a hesitant expression.
"Something else?"
"Heh, Captain, you know, although I've saved up a bit, most of the money I had before I spent on the ladies, and this won't be enough for the rest of my life."
"You're not thinking of asking me to sponsor a part of it, are you?"
"No, no, no, of course, I know that's impossible, but, I have a good item here that I plan to sell to you. Now that I'm leaving the ship, I won't need this weapon anymore."
As he spoke, John drew out a short black blade, more like a large dagger than a knife.
Charles glanced doubtfully at the plump old man before him. The blade was certainly the first mate's weapon, but he had no shortage of melee weapons.
"Don't underestimate this blade, Captain. It's a relic!"
Charles had heard of these mysterious entities before, but had never seen one.
The origins of relics are varied; some say they come from the sea, others from the legendary Land of Light, or from unexplored islands. Regardless of their origins, one thing is certain: these things possess special powers.
These special powers are quirky, and using them comes at a cost, the greater the power, the higher the price.
Charles had heard of a ring at an auction on British Island valued at 580,000 Echo Coins that could make the wearer temporarily invisible, at the price of an unbearable itch all over their body.
"What's so special about this blade?"
Seeing Charles's curiosity, John perked up.
"This weapon is very sharp, incredibly sharp." Holding the blade, he eyed the furniture, seemingly tempted to test out its cutting power on something.
"Thanks, but no need, I still prefer guns."
It's true that relying solely on a revolver is somewhat inadequate against the monsters, and Charles did want a relic for self-defense, but he didn't want something as useless as chicken ribs.
In the Earth Sea World, even if the technology tree was somewhat skewed, many of the larger islands had electricity, and in a world with guns and cannons, what use was a divine weapon, especially one with side effects?
Noticing Charles's disinclination to buy, old John grew a bit frantic, "Captain, it has another Special Ability, as long as you hold it, your Healing Ability will accelerate."
"Two abilities? Then what's the cost?" Relics were bizarre; the benefits and side effects were not necessarily proportional—sometimes, the benefits were minimal, but the side-effects could make the relic's owner wish for death.
"It's not too severe. If held for a prolonged time, it can induce suicidal urges. As long as it's not in hand, it should be fine."
Charles took the Black Blade and was surprised by its lightness; it didn't seem to be made of iron, feeling almost like plastic in his grasp.
After intentionally cutting himself with the blade, he found the wound did indeed heal slowly, but not dramatically—perhaps three times the normal speed at most.
"The cost is acceptable, and the benefits aren't bad, either. We don't have a ship doctor on board, so this could somewhat make up for that gap."
Charles decided to buy the blade—after all, sharpening the axe won't hold up the work of cutting wood, and one must spend money when necessary.
The two knew each other well, and in the end, Charles purchased the relic for 160,000 Echo Coins.