Chapter 42
The thing the man wielded like an extension of his limbs, the thing that drew closer with every blink, was a fire axe.
Even if she was lucky enough to block it with her arm, her bones would shatter. An open complex fracture would lead to infection and necrosis.
If escape wasn’t an option, maybe it was better to end it all in one go and offer up her head…
Just as that thought crossed her mind, the sailor came to a halt, just barely in time.
The axe, unable to overcome its momentum, spun in the man’s grip before thudding heavily to the ground.
He paid it no mind. Instead, his one remaining eye rolled around as he scanned Alice from head to toe.
“Not… a beast? A woman?”
In the meantime, Alice observed him as well.
His limbs were intact, but his tattered sailor’s uniform, full of holes, and his bluish complexion made it clear—he belonged to this damned ghost ship.
The only thing untouched by death was the tangled seaweed caught in his stark white beard.
The man soon realized he was being scrutinized.
Alice immediately raised both hands and spoke.
“Alice Boucher. I’m from Cannery…”
Suddenly, the man’s right hand shot up, cutting her off.
When his hand brushed her cheek, her words nearly turned into a scream.
But when his damp, clammy palm—like something pulled straight from the ocean—began groping her face with unsettling persistence, she couldn’t even manage a sound.
Slowly, the man withdrew his hand.
“You seem human… Came from the capital…?”
“Yes.”
“What brings you here…?”
“I’m an investigator’s assistant. We’re looking for a missing nobleman in this area.”
Until she knew whose side he was on, it was best to keep her answers vague.
Now then, how would he react?
His uniform, barely holding together, still had its remaining buttons fastened properly.
And his sailor’s blue cap, at least, was firmly set in place.
What kind of man was he, really…?
“…You.”
His mouth gaped open.
From between his lips—stained blue—came a putrid stench.
Rot.
“How much do you know about the townspeople?”
The answer formed immediately in her mind.
They were people who had left their hometowns about ten years ago.
Each had different weaknesses, tied to the traits of the animals they resembled.
Even within the village, they struggled to find others like themselves—a lonely group of migrants.
But it was obvious what this sailor wanted to hear.
She stripped her answer of subjective descriptions and laced it with an emotion—whether superiority or fear, she wasn’t sure.
“They’re beasts… aren’t they?”
“…”
“The village leader, Madam Adelaide, is probably a primate. That bushy-haired woman, Doki, seems to be from the weasel family. There are birdfolk too, I think…”
There was no need to say more.
Between his beard, the man’s mouth twisted into a grin.
His laughter bubbled like seawater boiling in a cauldron.
“You caught on quick. That place is crawling with those beast bastards.”
“…How did that happen?”
Alice inhaled deeply, steadying herself.
She felt a brief relief—she had passed the first hurdle.
But her heart still pounded.
This was the first person she’d found who knew about the village.
‘He definitely knows something.’
There were so many things she needed to ask.
She wanted to start by asking how to escape…
But her first question came naturally.
“This village—what exactly is Reki? Do you know?”
“Of course! Even if I didn’t want to, I know far too much!”
The corners of the man’s mouth stretched unnaturally high, revealing his entire set of teeth—gum and all.
It no longer looked like a grin.
More like the grimace of someone being tortured.
And yet, he spoke with unexpected courtesy.
“You said Lady Boucher, right? I’m Calvin, a former navigator. Long ago, I served aboard the cargo ship Lumière.”
“…You remember?”
“I may have lost track of the years, but the events? Oh, I remember them well! How could I ever forget the day the ship that gave me my first navigator’s position ran aground? Or how, while my crew was dying, those damned beasts dared to steal the place of humans?!”
Calvin cackled.
But Alice felt it—an emotion that oozed from deep within him.
It was more than anger.
It was something closer to a curse.
As his sneering lips twisted back into place, Alice suddenly noticed something.
The other sailors on board—once strewn lifelessly around the ship—were now drawing closer.
Even the treasure hunters who had lingered near the deck had begun moving.
Their rotting bodies shuffled toward them.
She had thought her nose had gone numb to the stench by now.
But a fresh wave of the foulest, most putrid odor slammed into her brain.
Her stomach clenched, screaming through gritted teeth.
Whether he noticed or not, Calvin didn’t even bother closing his rancid mouth as he spoke.
“I can’t exactly offer you a warm welcome. But I can tell you where your misfortune began! Would you like to hear it?”
“Yes. I want to understand my situation.”
“Good, very good! Cold-blooded—just the way I like it!”
Calvin chuckled and began his tale.
“Try not to despair too much. It all started in April—half a year ago—when the great cargo ship Lumière faced its troubles…”
* * *
The strong will always take more.
Just as it is in nature, so it must be among mankind.
Following this natural and logical truth, the cargo ship Lumière was on its way home, laden with imports acquired under highly favorable conditions from over a dozen different nations.
Three days remained until they reached the continent’s largest port, Sternpool.
Onboard, merchants from various countries were already exchanging investment ideas for their incoming profits.
Explorers rehearsed what they would say to the journalists swarming around them, eager to boast of their grand adventures.
It had been a long voyage, but far from boring.
Everywhere you looked, there were rare goods and fascinating people with even more fascinating stories.
For the brave and ambitious, Lumière was nothing short of an amusement park.
Yet, amid this deck of dreams and fortune, the captain’s face twisted at the navigator’s report.
“There are Sternpool seals swarming the harbor? Why the hell?”
Seals—meaning the navy.
It was already a headache dealing with customs and quarantine officials trying to squeeze extra fees out of them.
If the navy got involved, the problems would multiply.
The navigator explained.
“One of the ship’s crew was caught making some side money without informing his employer. He secretly bought and sold an unregistered item.”
“For that alone?”
“It was a banned herb. And he stored it with the legally imported tea. Tried to ‘hide a tree in the forest,’ but the damn thing ended up in a navy dining hall…”
A string of curses filled the captain’s throat, but they all condensed into a single, simple word.
“That idiot!”
“The navy’s furious. If we’re unlucky, they’ll search this ship down to the keel. What should we do?”
“…”
Three days until port.
No one could say if the navy would still be there by then.
“Slow the ship for now. I’ll have an answer in two hours.”
“Understood.”
The navigator left the captain’s quarters.
The Lumière had set out to gather the world’s greatest treasures.
Now, its hull was bursting with them.
Layer upon layer, the ship was filled with treasures unimaginable on the mainland. Silks as thin as dragonfly wings, spices with mysterious aromas, a taxidermied deer with fangs, and delicate foreign tapestries.
In other words, there were countless reasons for customs officers to detain them upon entry.
That alone was troubling enough…
‘Why did that idiot have to get caught smuggling plants? Now we’re all in danger!’
The problem was Maloja, an exotic herb stashed deep in the cargo hold. When consumed, it numbed the senses and caused vivid hallucinations.
The client who requested its import had repeatedly warned, “This must never be caught by quarantine.”
The captain briefly weighed the pros and cons of throwing the Maloja crates into the sea. It didn’t even take ten seconds for him to give up on the idea.
There wasn’t a single item on this ship that had a higher value-to-weight ratio than Maloja.
‘If the navy’s own inspection catches us, the shipment will be delayed anyway. And if they start digging through our cargo, they might confiscate other goods too…’
The captain summoned the navigator and veteran sailors. Soon, they were pouring over sea charts, passenger lists, and cargo manifests, their fingers tracing hurried paths across the papers.
A few trustworthy passengers were also brought in for discussion.
Two hours later, the captain gave his order.
“From now on, the Lumière is heading for Reki.”
Once a detention center for prisoners, now an uninhabited and abandoned land.
‘There should still be roads and living facilities there.’
It would be a suitable place to store goods that were too risky to show the navy—for a few weeks at least.
