Chapter 1 The Approaching Island

The island was getting closer, the thick fog and the silhouettes within it becoming increasingly clear—Lawrence stood on the forecastle deck of the White Oak, his hands gripping the railing tightly, his knuckles white with strain.

Everyone was nervous, even the old captain who had spent most of his life drifting on the boundless sea—what was on that island? What were those shadows in the fog? Why did the island seem to appear consciously around the White Oak? And most importantly... what was this sea area shrouded in bizarre phenomena?

Lawrence took a deep breath, the cold air rushing into his lungs, forcibly calming his turbulent emotions. He tried not to think about other strange things, such as Martha appearing before his eyes, and the bizarre fact that others besides him could see Martha—he knew he had to cut off those thoughts, because all of this was clearly related to his deteriorating mental state, and if he continued to think about it, Martha might really become more than just a phantom.

He was out of potions, and even if he had any, they were clearly no longer effective.

The steam core was running smoothly, and the White Oak gradually approached the small island with its winding coastline. The beautiful white ship sailed across the sea, leaving a long wake behind it. In the rippling, spreading waves of the wake, a faint glimmer of ghostly green flashed by.

However, no one noticed the situation at the stern. Everyone on board was focused on the strange island.

The edge of the island was steep and rocky, with no suitable place to dock. The experienced helmsman did not rashly bring the ship directly alongside, but instead maneuvered the White Oak to sail around the island.

As the ship rounded about a third of the way, the sailor in the crow's nest suddenly made a discovery.

"There's a port!" the sailor shouted from the high platform.

A moment later, a small dock appeared in Lawrence's field of vision. The facilities deep within the dock were shrouded in mist, making them difficult to see clearly, but the part extending into the sea could still be seen—that part of the structure was intact, with no signs of damage.

Having complete dock facilities meant that the White Oak could dock as a whole, without having to use small boats to land on the island, which undoubtedly increased the safety of exploring the island—in addition to the convenience of resupply and retreat, the White Oak's own small-caliber escort cannons could also provide cover for exploration activities along the coast.

Lawrence returned to the bridge. Under his command, the White Oak began to cautiously approach the deserted dock—because there were no shore-based guides to assist, the entire docking process was extremely slow, but it was eventually completed safely.

Lawrence looked towards the opposite side of the dock, seeing the island shrouded in mist. Even the dock facilities at close range appeared hazy due to the fog. He wondered if it was just his imagination, but he felt that the fog on this island was even thicker than he had observed before.

"No one is seen," the first mate came to Lawrence's side, observing the situation on the island, "but faint lights can be seen... they seem to be coming from the port buildings."

"Any response on the radio?"

"No, after approaching this island, even the Frost signals that we could always receive are gone," the first mate shook his head. "No response to light signals either."

Lawrence pondered for a moment: "Go select twelve shrewd and cautious sailors, bring guns, and come with me to explore the island."

"You're going to the island yourself?" The first mate was immediately taken aback. "This island looks very strange. You doing this might be..."

"Risky? The risk of staying on the ship is probably the same," Lawrence shook his head. "It's not the island that's strange, it's this entire sea area. We're trapped in a large-scale anomaly. Danger is everywhere within the anomaly. Exploring the island might at least uncover useful information."

The first mate opened his mouth, but he had to admit that the captain's experience and judgment were useful.

"Alright, I'll go prepare."

After a while, the first mate selected twelve sailors from the crew who met the requirements—all of them were experienced old sailors, and they were people of strong will and devout faith. Together with the first mate himself, there were thirteen people, ready to go to the island with Lawrence.

The remaining affairs on the White Oak were temporarily handed over to the second mate.

The rope ladder extended to the dock pier, and Lawrence led his small exploration force onto the mysterious island shrouded in mist.

The feeling of solid ground beneath their feet somewhat weakened the unease in the explorers' hearts. Lawrence stood on the dock, stomped hard on the ground, and muttered as he turned back, "At least this concrete is real."

"The lights are in that direction," the first mate, holding a large-caliber rifle in his hand, looked up into the distance. "They can still be seen from here, but there's still no sign of anyone active."

"Don't scatter, don't touch unfamiliar things casually. If you hear a voice around you talking to you, don't answer until you've confirmed the source of the voice and the location of your teammates," Lawrence instructed with a serious expression. "If you see anything suspicious in the fog, warn everyone immediately. Do not open fire on your own or leave the team to explore."

He paused at this point, and glanced around at the team he had brought.

Twelve sailors, one first mate, and himself.

"Finally, remember, there are only fourteen of us—before returning to the ship, the number of people can be less, but it must never be more."

The sailors immediately responded: "Yes, Captain!"

Lawrence nodded and led the team towards the thick fog.

They crossed the dock pier and came to an open area, which appeared to be a stacking area used for temporary distribution of goods—some remaining stacking facilities and small hoisting mechanisms could still be seen, but apart from these facilities, there was still no sign of any "people."

"This doesn't look like it's been abandoned for a long time at all," the first mate muttered, observing the surrounding environment, "It's almost like it was a busy dock a few days ago."

Lawrence didn't say anything. He carefully observed the nearby port facilities, and suddenly, his gaze fell on a plaque.

"Dagger Island Port Supplies."

Dagger Island, that was the name of the island.

"This is Dagger Island?" The first mate walked over, looked at the words on the plaque, and his eyes were a little surprised. "I've heard of this place... it's a small island near Frost City-State, which used to produce feijin (boiling gold), but it's said that it was converted into a military facility many years ago... Is this really Dagger Island?"

"Nothing here is trustworthy—we even briefly docked at a place that looked very much like 'Frost' before," Lawrence shook his head. "Let's keep going. The place where the remaining lights are may be the port office, where there may be something that can answer our questions."

The exploration team left the dock stacking area and began to head towards the light lit in the fog along an upward-sloping road. Everyone was on edge, paying attention to the movements in the fog.

A very slight wind was blowing erratically on the island, causing the gray-white fog to slowly roll, and the strange silhouettes that could be vaguely seen in the distance seemed to move along with it, swaying their bodies slightly like some kind of living thing. In this dim and chaotic fog, the light became more and more obvious, and gradually approached in everyone's vision.

The first mate, who was walking at the front of the team, suddenly stopped.

"What is this?" The first mate lowered his head, frowning as he observed a pile of strange things by the roadside.

Lawrence held a revolver in one hand and a lantern in the other, and saw the pile of things after coming to the first mate's side.

It looked like a pile of gray-black sludge—it had already dried up, and the edges showed a cracked appearance, but it could still be seen that it was surging at the last moment.

It was as if a mass of boiling mud that was still bubbling the second before had been drained of all its moisture in the next instant.

"Sludge?" Lawrence frowned, not rashly touching the strange thing. "Why is there sludge here?"

"I seemed to have seen some similar black sludge near the dock before," at this time, a sailor in the team said uncertainly, "but at that time, that thing was mixed with a pile of debris, and I thought it was just some garbage..."

Lawrence nodded, and then another sailor suddenly shouted: "There's also a pile here!"

Lawrence looked in the direction of the sound and saw a pile of black sludge on the ground on the other side of the road.

This island is full of this stuff?

A feeling of unease spread in his heart, but no one could answer what the sludge was. Lawrence cautiously gathered the team, preventing everyone from coming into contact with the strange "sludge", and then continued to walk into the depths of the fog.

After a while, they finally reached the end of the slope, just as Lawrence had previously judged—this was where the port office was located.

A small building built of reinforced concrete stood here, and slightly yellowed lights spilled out from the windows. No sound could be heard inside.

The front door of the building was slightly ajar, and a plaque was nailed to the door, with the words "Port Integrated Office" written on it.

Lawrence came to the door, listened to the movements inside to confirm, and then prepared to push the door open.

But suddenly, his movements stopped.

On the wall next to the door, a line of划痕 (huá hén) that seemed to be hastily carved with a dagger came into his eyes. It was actually a sentence—

"Humans have only two eyes!"