“If we die? This isn’t a delivery mission this time. If you really think about it, exploring islands is the job of explorers.”

“I’m not afraid. It’s not bad to go along with you all.”

Grand Warden thought of something and turned to look at his companion. “Frank, what about you? Why did you come?”

“You know my personality. I’m too lazy to move.” As Frank spoke, he cast his gaze at his captain’s back, his eyes full of calm.

Actually, the reason he didn’t leave was because a few years ago, he had secretly seen the captain take out a rectangular object. That thing could play music like a phonograph, and there were even ghosts performing plays on it.

Although he didn’t know what it was, he felt it was some kind of powerful relic, and he suspected that the price for such a relic was tears. The always rational captain had cried like a child that day.

From that moment on, he felt he was set on following this captain. With a captain who possessed such a powerful relic, safety was surely guaranteed.

High pay at sea didn’t matter, nor did the workload. Staying alive was the most important thing.

Facts proved his choice was right. Most of the people who went to sea at the same time as him were already dead; only he was still living well.

At the bow, Charles suddenly narrowed his eyes. In the distance, a line of black-robed Fulton cultists walked through the laborers toward the dock, led by the bald man called Hook.

“Hurry up, I’m on a tight schedule.” Charles looked a bit impatient.

Hook smiled and clapped his hands lightly. One of the people behind him stepped forward.

When he saw that person’s outfit, Charles thought he was looking at a mummy. Yellowish bandages tightly wrapped the person’s entire body, not a bit of skin exposed.

“You can call him Bandage or something else. He used to be a first mate, and he also knows the location of that island. He’ll be a great help to you on this journey.”

“The thing inside—is it alive?” Charles’s tone was wary.

“Heh, don’t worry. He’s a person, a flesh-and-blood person.”

Hook pulled out a dagger and slashed hard across Bandage’s face. Under the loosened bandages was black skin, and the cut oozed bright red blood.

“A black man? There are still black people in this world?” Charles looked more closely and realized he was mistaken. The man’s skin wasn’t black, but densely covered in tattooed letters, which at first glance gave the illusion of being black.

Chapter 6: The Target Island

Carl pointed at the Rat with his finger, then turned and walked up the steps.

Bandage, unconcerned about the bleeding wound on his face, gave Hook a Fulton cult salute and followed.

Just as the two were boarding the ship, Hook stretched out his right hand, and the bloodstained dagger in his hand plunged directly into the chest of the believer on his left.

“Ahhhhh!!” The scream echoed across the entire port.

The others at the port, seeing the black robes of the Fulton cultists, didn’t dare interfere and kept their heads down, busy with their own affairs.

Charles, turning to see this scene, was full of disgust. This was also why he hadn’t wanted to deal with the Fulton cult before. He turned and shouted to Dean, who had come over to watch the commotion. “Stop looking, weigh anchor and set sail!”

Hook gave a hard yank, and a still-beating heart appeared in his hand. He took the heart to the side of the Rat, smearing something on the hull while muttering under his breath.

“Get away! Don’t touch my ship with that disgusting thing.” Charles instantly drew his revolver and pointed it at his head.

“Captain Charles, with this, your ship will be protected by a mighty one.”

“I don’t need it!” Charles’s finger rested on the trigger.

Seeing that Charles wasn’t joking, Hook smiled slightly, bowed, and stepped back half a step.

“Captain Charles, we Fulton followers are always polite and friendly. Why are you always prejudiced against us?”

Looking at the bloody heart in his hand, Charles couldn’t be bothered to explain.

Under Hook’s gaze, the Rat’s smokestack began to emit black smoke as it slowly sailed into the dark sea.

“Dean, help me steer.” After calling out to the boatswain, Charles brought Bandage to the captain’s cabin.

A yellowed sea chart was spread out on the table. The chart wasn’t detailed; only a few scattered islands were marked in the vast blackness.

This was all that could be bought at the port. More detailed maps were controlled by the Explorer’s Association.

“Where’s your thing? How far is it from Coral Island?”

The right hand wrapped in Bandage pointed precisely at an unmarked spot in the darkness.

“An unexplored area, huh…” Charles was already mentally prepared for this answer. There was no way an already explored island would offer such a high reward.

“What does your holy relic look like?” Charles continued to ask.

Bandage paused for a long moment before slowly saying, “The Lord’s… statue, golden…”

Though a bit halting, the voice was surprisingly young, sounding like a boy in the midst of puberty.

“Is that thing a relic?”

“……”

“What dangers are on the island?”

“……”