Charles and his crew boarded the Narwhal. Compared to the dilapidated Rat, the Narwhal was undoubtedly much more spacious and clean; just looking at it was a delight.

  He ran through every cabin, inspecting thoroughly to ensure everything was in order. As captain, he needed to be as familiar with every part of the ship as he was with his own body.

  After confirming that everything was functioning properly, Charles returned to the cockpit and waved his hand lightly. The Narwhal's smokestack began to emit thick black smoke, and the ship slowly sailed toward the deep sea.

  Glancing at the diminishing Coral Island through the glass, Charles approached the communication pipe and shouted, "Chief Engineer, how does the new ship feel?"

  After a few seconds, James’s hearty voice came through the pipe. "Captain, the ship is great! The steam is coming out quickly! And it’s only 39 degrees down here."

  "Crank the turbine to maximum; let’s test its speed."

  "Yes, Captain."

  As the black smoke began to billow out of the smokestack, the Narwhal's speed increased. When it reached its peak, Charles felt as if he were driving a speedboat.

  He estimated that the Narwhal was at least three times faster than the Rat.

  Just then, he caught sight of something white on the surface of the water. "Chief Engineer, slow down!"

  The speeding Narwhal decelerated, and Charles could see what it was—a corpse, swollen and grotesque.

  Instead of lying in the water to be devoured by fish, it was eerily standing on the surface, motionless, staring at the Narwhal.

  Charles wasn’t curious about this creature’s origin; he had seen weirder things at sea. He just wanted to find a target for his new cannon.

  "Boom!" The recoil from the deck cannon jolted the ship.

  Although Charles had never fired a cannon before and his aim was likely poor, after firing a dozen rounds, the bloated corpse was instantly blown apart.

  Whatever force had brought it back to its feet had no power against cannonballs.

  Charles was certain that if he had been aboard this ship during the encounter with the marker monster, the outcome would have been entirely different.

  After testing the new ship's performance, Charles turned his gaze to the sea chart on the wall.

  It was the map provided by the Explorer Association; with this and a compass, they could locate their target.

  "Let’s follow Route 6. When we reach Marker 68, we’ll turn south toward our destination." Charles traced his finger along the map.

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  "Understood, Captain!" replied the helmsman, the red-haired second mate, who looked a bit excited and was glancing around.

  "I remember your name is... Krona?"

  "Yes, Captain, that’s my name, given by my mother. Captain, is it true what Frey said? That you once explored an island? Can those monsters really create a nonexistent person in someone’s memory? How did you find them back then?"

  Charles frowned slightly, as if recalling an unpleasant memory. "Just steer the ship well. When the time comes, the first mate will take over for you."

  Seeing his captain walk out, Krona felt puzzled. "Did I ask something I shouldn’t have? I had some compliments prepared."

  Days passed at sea, and the old crew and new crew were gradually getting to know each other. Aside from Deep, who was too young and somewhat rebellious, the others were getting along quite well.

  The Narwhal was fast, and after just seven days, they arrived near their target area.

  Bright beams of light scanned the dark sea, searching for the target island.

  The sea chart and compass could only give a rough location; they would have to find the exact coordinates through tedious searching.

  In the cockpit, Krona looked at Charles. "Captain, I heard some people at sea have special ways to find islands that are much better than this method. It seems like some kind of magic. Do you know it?"

  "Stop talking nonsense and steer the ship," Charles thought the second mate was being overly chatty.

  "I... I have a method..." Bandage, who was seated, rarely interjected.

  Seeing both their gazes on him, Bandage slowly continued, "In the church... there’s a ritual that can pray for the help of the Furtan God, but it requires... a human sacrifice."

  Charles looked at Bandage with mixed feelings; it seemed his first mate hadn’t yet escaped from the Furtan Church. Hopefully, time would lessen the cult's brainwashing effect on him.

  "Forget those disgusting things; we don’t need them."

  "Captain, look! What’s that?" Krona pointed ahead, and Charles turned his gaze to see a blurry island appearing in the distance—they had found it.

  Excited crew members gathered on the deck, gazing at the distant island.

  Learning from past experiences, Charles did not rush to land but had the Narwhal circle around the island for observation.

  The brightness of the lights was limited, revealing only the island's periphery. The island was large; it took three hours for the Narwhal to make a complete circuit at its speed. Under the light, the island appeared extremely barren.

  The island was filled with oddly shaped rocks, some as tall as three or four stories, while others were half the size of a person. They were spaced apart, seemingly following some kind of pattern, giving Charles the impression of arriving at a quarry.

  "Can people live here?" Deep hesitantly asked, a question no one could answer.

  Charles knew that regardless of whether the island could support life, it certainly posed some danger. This was a level 5 danger island, and five exploration ships had disappeared after attempting to explore it.

  "Let’s throw some live fish onto the island and see if there are any meat-eating creatures."

  At Charles's command, some fish were tossed onto the beach, their bodies deliberately cut to release blood, the scent of it wafting through the air as everyone anxiously watched.

  The suffocated fish soon died, and after half an hour, Charles suddenly spotted a pair of eyes shining among the rocks. "Squeak, squeak, squeak~"

  With black fur, a long tail, and black eyes the size of green beans, it was an ordinary mouse.

  In front of everyone, the mouse scurried over to a dead fish and began to gnaw at it.

  Joy spread across the crew's faces; the appearance of a normal creature was good news. If a mouse could survive on this island, then humans likely could too.

  But before they could celebrate, more greedy eyes emerged from the rocks. Groups of mice surged toward the dead fish like waves, and the white beach was suddenly covered in black-brown fur.

  The sound of chewing echoed from the shore, sending chills down the spines of those on the ship.

  "Uh... there seem to be a lot of mice..." Krona, the second mate, said with a strained smile as he looked at his captain.