Charles pulled over the Bandage with his hand, pointed at him gravely and asked, “Is that thing inside?”

Bandage hesitated a little and nodded, “It should... be... I’m not... sure... sorry... my memory isn’t very good...”

Regardless of whether it was or not, Charles decided to go in and take a look. At the very least, the footprints on the ground all led toward the door, and there was no sign of chaos—danger had not yet appeared.

He turned his head to his chief mate and the cook and said, “Let’s go, the four of us will go in and have a look.”

James and Frank nodded at the same time and followed Charles inside with big strides.

The torchlight illuminated the interior of the building. Compared to its dilapidated exterior, the inside was extremely clean and spacious. There wasn’t a speck of dust on the smooth red floor, but what was on the walls made everyone’s scalp tingle.

All around, the walls were covered with layers upon layers of bizarre reliefs, depicting deformed creatures beyond human imagination, entangled with each other.

They looked like hybrids of starfish and octopus, with a single eye embedded in the center of their strange bodies.

From their body language, it seemed they were worshipping something.

But these strange reliefs didn’t attract much attention from the three; everyone’s gaze was fixed on the golden statue placed in the very center—a bizarre humanoid statue covered in tentacles, the very image of the god Futan.

Chapter 8: Alone

“Found it! That’s it!!”

Charles began to get excited. The thing was just sitting there, with not even a guard nearby. As long as he brought it back to the Coral Islands, the mission would be complete!

He lifted his foot, just about to grab it, but stopped abruptly. A thought flashed through his mind—wasn’t this a bit too easy? If it was so simple, why hadn’t those before him taken it, and why had they all disappeared instead?

Just as Charles hesitated, Bandage moved beside him. He walked straight over and picked up the statue of Futan.

Then he returned to Charles’s side and said in his slow, dragging tone, “Let’s... go back... the High Priest is waiting...”

Although Charles felt something was off, since they had the item in hand, he couldn’t worry about it now. He waved his hand and quickly led the crew outside.

“That thing looks heavy. Let’s take turns carrying it for thirty minutes each.”

Bandage and James nodded at the same time. They continued along the path toward the shore. The golden statue was heavy, and even taking turns carrying it was exhausting.

Halfway down the path, Charles stopped to rest. Now was not the time to wait until they were completely exhausted—otherwise, if something happened, they wouldn’t even have a chance to react.

By the campfire, Charles sat on the ground, his eyes alertly scanning the darkness around them.

If there was no danger on the way in, then it meant the danger would only come on the way back. He couldn’t let his guard down yet.

After resting for more than ten minutes, Charles turned to Bandage beside him and said, “For the next stretch, we can’t stop. We have to go all the way.”

Bandage nodded, paused for a few seconds, looked around, and said, “I... I feel like I forgot something...”

“As long as we have the statue, nothing else matters. Let’s go.” Charles, a bit impatient, grabbed the statue and pressed on.

Bandage said nothing more, silently following.

The bizarre forest flickered in and out of the torchlight. In the silence, apart from their breathing and footsteps, there was no other sound.

When Charles finally returned to the beach and saw the Rat from a distance, a trace of joy appeared on his sweat-soaked face.

“This adventure was a success. As long as I get back, as long as I hand this over to the Futan cult, I can buy an exploration ship, recruit a crew, and search for a way home.”

Just as he was running across the sand toward the distant Rat, he suddenly stopped. The smile on his face slowly faded, and a question appeared in his mind.

“Did I pilot this whole steamship here by myself??”

A nameless fear suddenly enveloped Charles as he recalled how he had come here.

“I was invited by the Futan cult to search for their holy relic. I set out alone on the Rat, I went to the kitchen alone to prepare food, I fueled the turbine alone, I cleaned the deck alone, I... I patrolled the deck alone, I... steered alone?”

Charles paced back and forth on the beach, clutching the golden statue.

“I used to have a crew. I sailed with the first mate Old John and the boatswain Tim, the three of us together. But before, Tim was skinned by something underwater, and John disembarked at the Coral Islands. After that, I was the only one left on the Rat, wasn’t I!!”

A look of pain appeared on Charles’s face. Although his memories were very clear, what he saw didn’t match reality at all. It made no sense.

“This is impossible! I’m not Superman—how could I possibly do all that alone? Something must be wrong!!”

As Charles’s gaze inadvertently swept over the footprints on the ground, he shuddered.

There were a total of seven sets of footprints, large and small, all very clear, proving they had all been left recently.