"Don't pay attention to those fools. They are ignorant mortals; no matter how strong they are, they are merely lowly creatures driven by desire. Only by finding the Land of Light and entering the Kingdom of the God of Light can humanity attain eternal happiness and peace."

  Charles rarely found himself agreeing with Kede.

  What good is strength if one is still trapped on islands that could sink at any moment? Their endurance of darkness was merely due to their ignorance of the light.

  After exchanging information with Kede, he quickly set sail again. Watching Kede's anxious back, Charles felt a flash of recognition, seeing a reflection of his former self.

  As the hope of going home grew closer, he found himself less anxious than at the beginning.

  The next morning, Charles opened his eyes to find himself once again in an unknown bar, two scantily clad bunny girls nestled in his arms.

  Shaking his dizzy head, he stumbled out of the bar.

  "Don't waste echoes in places like this. Remember, we still need 3 million echoes for the new arm," Charles thought to his other persona.

  "How much could it cost to buy this cheap place? Leave me alone; I’m tired."

  Looking around, Charles headed towards the Bat Inn, which now belonged to him. He needed to grab his sketchpad and continue drawing to reduce mental pollution.

  Upon arriving home, he was surprised to find an unexpected visitor sitting on his sofa: the doctor.

  "How did you get in? I don’t remember giving you a key."

  "Your rat let me in."

  Lily, perched on the pillow, nodded enthusiastically, as if to say "Look at me!"

  "What brings you here?"

  The doctor jumped off the sofa and limped toward the door. "Come with me; I've contacted those prosthetic sellers. They want to meet you."

  Upon hearing this, Charles immediately set down his sketchpad. No one liked missing an arm, and he was no exception.

  Charles followed the doctor into a car, heading deeper into the island.

  Coral Island was neither too big nor too small. After winding through various streets for over an hour, they finally arrived at the bustling heart of the island.

  In contrast to the chaotic port area, the central district was a different world altogether.

  Expensive electric lights boldly adorned the streets, while the beggars, lunatics, and street urchins of the port had transformed into polite gentlemen, women walking small dogs, and a steady stream of private cars.

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  Melodious singing floated from nearby high-end shops, and Charles caught a glimpse of a pair of sky-blue leather shoes behind the glass. "Shark Piano brand men’s high-heeled shoes, priced at 35,000 echoes."

  The filthy doctor and one-armed Charles walked down the street, looking completely out of place. This mismatch quickly drew attention.

  "Beep—! Beep-beep—!" Two tall enforcers in black uniforms strutted over, whistling confidently.

  "Hey!! You two, stop right there! No entry for the poorly dressed in the central district! What if a big shot sees you and gets offended?"

  The doctor, holding a flask, stepped back to let Charles through.

  Charles couldn't be bothered to respond; he pulled out the explorer's certification he had applied for earlier.

  At the sight of the explorer association's anchor emblem, the expressions of the enforcers shifted from disdain to a mix of apprehension and fear.

  "I... I’m telling you, don’t cause trouble here. The governor’s warship is nearby."

  As soon as he finished speaking, the two turned and hurried away, their anxious voices drifting back to Charles's sharp ears.

  "Why is that sea lunatic here? Damn it! Why did it have to be my shift today?"

  "Stop talking; hurry up and get someone to keep an eye on them. If they stir up trouble, we’re all in for it!"

  With the minor trouble averted, the doctor continued walking. After about fifteen minutes on the bustling street, they finally stopped in front of a high-end café in the heart of the island.

  The colorful glass wind chimes jingled as the doctor and Charles entered the bright, clean interior.

  Ignoring the astonished patrons in suits, the doctor headed straight for the kitchen at the back.

  Inside the kitchen, a baker was intently decorating small cakes, seemingly oblivious to the two newcomers.

  "Why do the prosthetics people set up shop here?" Charles asked.

  "Hmph, that’s just a part of their business. They can do much more than this."

  Behind the hot kitchen was an empty room. In the center sat an elderly woman in a rocking chair, wearing reading glasses and perusing a newspaper.

  With half-rimmed glasses and a floral-patterned dress, she appeared to be a kind, grandmotherly figure at first glance.

  "Hey, Uren called us," the doctor said bluntly to the old woman.

  She eyed Charles's empty left sleeve and nodded, slowly rising from her chair. She shuffled toward the kitchen.

  "Is she the one making my prosthetic?"

  Without turning back, the doctor pulled out his metal flask and took a swig. "No, it’s Uren from Blackleaf Island who’s making it for you."

  "Blackleaf Island? It takes at least three months to get here from there. I can’t wait that long."

  "I know you’re impatient. Don’t worry; just watch. They have the capability to handle business all over Haize, so they have their own ways."

  Hearing this, Charles fell silent, curious about how someone who wasn’t present could help him install a prosthetic.

  The kitchen door opened again, and the elderly woman returned, carrying a simple cloth bag.

  "Step back a bit," she said, revealing a toothless grin.

  Once she saw Charles and the doctor standing against the wall, she slowly squatted down and began rummaging through the bag with her wrinkled right hand, pulling out a blob of black, viscous substance to start drawing on the floor.

  Various complex, unknown black symbols emerged from her fingers, tightly arranged, ultimately forming a mysterious circle with an outer ring and an inverted triangle in the center.

  A tattered teddy bear was placed in the center of the formation, and the old woman produced several black candles, arranging them around the puppet in a specific pattern.

  A strange, chilling chant escaped her lips, enveloping the entire room in an eerie sensation.

  The chant began slowly, then picked up speed, with her voice rising higher. Finally, it reached a crescendo and abruptly stopped.

  The candle flames flickered and suddenly extinguished, causing the teddy bear on the floor to wobble and stand upright.

  Its eyes, made of black fruit pits, scanned the room’s occupants.