The "coffin" was back.
On the stern deck of the Lost Horizon, Duncan stared expressionlessly at the ornate wooden box lying before him. Droplets of water from the edge of the box fell onto his feet, confirming his memory of throwing it into the sea not long ago. This eerie situation was enough to chill one's heart, but for some reason, Duncan's mood was surprisingly calm.
Perhaps it was because he was on this already inexplicable ghost ship, or perhaps it was because he had just experienced a thrilling "ghost drift" and collision. Or maybe it was because he had been dealing with a certain enigmatic goat head for several days now, and had developed a certain immunity to this world's strange and supernatural phenomena.
In fact, when he threw this "cursed doll" into the sea last time, he had already vaguely guessed that it wouldn't be so easily over.
Duncan lowered his head and saw that the iron nails and chain that had been attached to the coffin were all missing. He then bent down, and with his pirate sword, he pried open the lid of the "coffin" again.
The elegant gothic doll still lay peacefully in the center of the red velvet lining, with its hands clasped together, serene and graceful. But this time, Duncan noticed that the hem of the doll's dress seemed to have traces of seawater on it. A faint smell of the sea also emanated from the inside of the coffin lid.
So far, this eerie doll had not done anything out of the ordinary or dangerous, other than repeatedly returning. But just the fact that it keeps returning already qualifies it as a "cursed item."
Duncan looked at the doll expressionlessly for a while, then suddenly smiled wryly and broke the silence: "I suddenly want to satisfy my curiosity..."
As he spoke, he turned and walked towards the entrance of the cabin not far away, leaving the doll on the deck. Although he was personally wary of the doll and did not want to keep it near him, based on his knowledge of the Lost Horizon and the goat head, he knew that leaving it on the deck for the time being would not cause any major problems. Even if she suddenly turned violent, there were plenty of "living things" on this ship to deal with her.
And he had some "preparations" to make during this time.
Duncan walked through the stern deck and opened the wooden door leading to the lower level. He stepped onto the wooden stairs, which had been there for who knows how many years, and made his way down to the lower deck. This area of the ship was known as the "upper deck" and was where the cannons were located. The old-fashioned front-loading cannons lay quietly on either side of the ship's hold, covered with moldy black planks over the nearby gunports. The black gunpowder barrels and solid iron balls were stacked between the cannon positions, as if they had been accumulating for a century.
Duncan's gaze swept over these objects that looked old-fashioned at first glance, and suddenly he thought of something -
He hadn't seen a second "person" on this ship besides himself, so who was operating these cannons?
Could it be that, like the Lost Ship itself, these cannons could load and fire on their own?
What about the fresh water tank on the ship? Was it also self-supplying? What about the damaged areas? Were they also self-repairing? Or maybe... did this ship even have the concept of "damage"?
These questions popped up in his mind one after another, but he couldn't figure out how to explain them.
Duncan knew very well that he still knew too little about this ship. Although he had explored it to some extent in the past few days, he had only roughly understood its upper structure. The deeper areas were much more mysterious and intimidating, and coupled with his previous hope of leaving his "bachelor pad" and returning to the normal world on Earth, he had not put too much effort into exploring the Lost Ship. This led to him not having much motivation in his actions on "this side".
But now, he suddenly had a greater curiosity about this ship, or perhaps a greater "sense of control".
This was his ship, and he should understand this "Lost Ship".
Perhaps this was also a change that occurred after he took the helm.
Duncan shook his head and temporarily put his exploration plan aside. He then went to the place where the cannonballs were stacked...
A moment later, Duncan returned to the stern deck holding several cast iron cannonballs, as he had expected - the cursed doll in the coffin still lay obediently in the wooden box.
"Did she make any noise just now?"
"Not at all," the goat-headed voice immediately came, sounding like it had been holding back for too long and started to chatter, "This lady is as quiet as her appearance suggests. You should trust my judgment. Since she has returned to the ship three or four times, it may indicate that there is some connection between her and her coffin and the Lost Ship. A great gardener once said..."
"Shut up."
"Oh."
Duncan stared expressionlessly at the doll in the coffin.
Duncan didn't know whether she was truly unable to move or still pretending to sleep at this point, but he didn't care.
He wanted to satisfy his curiosity.
Solid iron ball-like cast iron shells were especially heavy. When executing mutineers on board, tying one of these shells was enough to send even the most seasoned sailor to the bottom of the sea.
Duncan placed four of them in the coffin - and then returned to the cabin to retrieve four more.
Eight shells almost filled the remaining space in the wooden box, and the elegant Gothic doll was now surrounded by a circle of shells, looking... quite fearsome.
Elegance was no longer elegant, and there was definitely something sinister about it.
Duncan sealed the lid of the coffin once again and then, with considerable effort, pushed the wooden box to the edge of the deck. Even with his current physical strength, this was not an easy task.
Finally, he kicked the coffin with force and sent it plunging into the sea.
A heavy splash followed, and the gorgeous wooden box went straight down into the depths.
Duncan remained still, standing at the edge of the deck, staring at the spot where the wooden box had disappeared into the water, without moving for a long time.
The voice of the goat head entered his mind: "Captain, are you having second thoughts? If you regret discarding this valuable loot, the Lost Ship can try to use the anchor to retrieve the box. Although this is not the correct use of the anchor, the anchor says it can try..."
"Shut up," Duncan said.
"But I see you've been standing at the edge of the deck for quite some time now..."
"Shut up."
"Okay."