“Heh, Captain, you know, although I’ve saved up a bit, most of my money was spent on those girls before. This little bit isn’t enough for me to live out the rest of my life.”

　　“What? You’re not thinking of asking me to sponsor you, are you?”

　　“No, no, no, of course I know that’s impossible. But, I do have something good I want to sell you. Anyway, I’m leaving the ship, so I won’t be needing this kind of weapon anymore.”

　　John said as he pulled out a black blade about the length of a forearm. To call it a knife was more like calling it an oversized dagger.

　　Charles looked suspiciously at the fat old man in front of him. This was indeed the first mate’s weapon, but he himself wasn’t lacking in melee weapons.

　　“Captain, don’t underestimate this knife. It’s a relic!”

　　Charles had heard of these mysterious things before, but had never seen one.

　　The origins of relics are widely debated. Some say they come from the ocean, some from the legendary Land of Light, and others from unexplored islands. Whatever their origin, one thing is certain: these items possess special powers.

　　These powers are strange and varied, and using them comes at a price. The cost differs depending on the power.

　　Charles had once heard of a ring at an auction on the British Isles that was worth 580,000. It could make the wearer temporarily invisible, but the price was an unbearable itch all over the body.

　　“What’s special about this knife?”

　　Seeing Charles ask, John immediately perked up.

　　“This weapon is extremely sharp. Very, very sharp.” He held the long knife, glancing around at the furniture, itching to try it out on something.

　　“Thanks, but no. I still think guns are more useful.”

　　Relying on just a revolver to deal with those monsters was indeed a bit weak. Charles did want some relics for self-defense, but he didn’t want something useless.

　　The technological development in the world of Earthsea may be a bit skewed, but some of the big islands have electricity, guns, and cannons. In a world like this, what’s the use of a magical weapon? Especially one with side effects.

　　Seeing that Charles wasn’t interested in buying, Old John grew anxious. “Captain, it has another special ability. As long as you hold it, your body’s healing ability will speed up.”

　　“Two abilities? So what’s the price?” Relics are strange things; the benefits and drawbacks are rarely balanced. Sometimes, the benefit is minor, but the side effect can make the owner wish they were dead.

　　“It’s not particularly serious. If you hold it for a long time, you’ll feel a suicidal urge. Just don’t hold it all the time.”

　　Charles took the black knife and found it surprisingly light. It didn’t seem to be made of iron; in his hand, it felt almost like plastic.

　　After slicing his hand with the tip, the wound did heal slowly, but it wasn’t exaggerated—at most three times faster than normal.

　　“The price is acceptable, and the benefit is decent. There’s no ship’s doctor on my boat, so this can make up for that to some extent.”

　　Charles decided to buy the knife. Sharpening your tools won’t delay the job; money should be spent when it’s needed.

　　Both parties knew each other well. In the end, Charles bought the relic for 160,000 Echoes.

Chapter Four: The Futan Cult

　　Holding the Echo banknotes in both hands, a gleeful John turned to leave. But just as he opened the door to go, he hesitated for a moment, then turned back with a troubled look.

　　He looked at the figure behind him, caught between the light and the darkness, wanting to speak but stopping himself.

　　“Captain, I’m leaving too. To be honest, why don’t you come ashore as well? Even if you save up enough to buy an exploration ship, so what? The Land of Light doesn’t exist.”

　　“It does.”

　　Charles’s tone was calm, but his eyes were resolute.

　　“Something bigger than an island hangs in the sky, selflessly providing us with light and warmth, driving away the darkness—how could that be possible? That’s just a story made up by the Church of Light to fool people.”

　　Seeing Charles remain silent, Old John sighed and continued to persuade him: “When I first met you, you couldn’t even speak, but you were so full of life, so cheerful and confident. I thought, what a good lad! If I had a granddaughter, I’d definitely introduce her to you.”

　　“You don’t have to hide it from me. I know you’ve been hearing the voice of the gods for days now. If this goes on, you’ll really go mad. Give it up.”

　　Expressionless, Charles walked to the door and slammed it shut with a “bang.”

　　“Kid, you’re too stubborn.” John’s footsteps slowly faded away, and peace returned outside the door.

　　“Am I too stubborn?” Charles leaned against the door, muttering to himself, his expression slowly twisting.

　　“What’s wrong with wanting to go back?” Charles suddenly shouted in pain.

　　“I’ve never done anything criminal! Why does this have to happen to me? Why?!”

　　“Eight years! A full eight years! Why do I have to suffer like this?! All I want is to go home, what’s wrong with that?!” Charles roared hysterically.

　　“glui mglw...na...” The whispering sounded in his ears again, unbearably irritating.

　　“Fuck you!” In a fit of rage, he pulled out his pistol and pressed it to his temple.