For a long time, Lawrence had been trapped in a "lucid dream"—he knew more than anyone else what was happening to him and about the deterioration of his mental state.

He knew Martha was gone, knew that the figure he spent day and night with was just an illusion. He knew all of this—both subconsciously and consciously, he was perfectly aware.

But compared to other captains of similar age and experience, his mental state was actually pretty good. On the vast, boundless sea, there was no shortage of captains with twisted minds and damaged sanity. Even with the ship's chaplain to share the burden, the profession of challenging the sea was destined to endure far more mental pollution than ordinary crew members. Each captain completed voyage after voyage while fighting their own deteriorating sanity, to the point that captains often used a phrase to describe their profession.

"We are not sailing on the edge of the abyss, our lives are heading straight into it."

But it was precisely because of years of mental distress that Lawrence had an exceptionally keen awareness of "Martha." At this very moment, he had already keenly noticed that the figure before him was definitely not the same "thing" as the illusions he had seen in the past.

He couldn't help but recall the "Martha" who had appeared on the white oak deck earlier. Had the change in that "Martha's" appearance, which the first mate Gus had seen, started from then?

Had everything finally crossed a certain threshold? Had something from his imagination finally come to reality? Or had some unspeakable power read his mind and created this actually existing "individual" before his eyes? Was this a malicious gift? Or a trap full of irony?

"Martha…" Lawrence finally opened his mouth. He felt his throat was a little dry, and even his voice was hoarse. "Are you… in front of me?"

"As you can see," the female adventurer smiled, "Want to touch me? I even have body temperature."

"…You are a tangible individual," Lawrence took a light breath, restraining his impulse to step forward. "But… why? Could it be that the illusion in my mind has been transformed into some kind of entity here? Is this… the power of this sea area?"

"At least you're partly right," Martha shook her head gently. "It is indeed this 'sea area' that shaped me and the Black Oak, but I didn't come from the illusion in your mind—I've been wandering here for many years, Lawrence—I and this ship have been here for many years, blindly wandering as part of a huge number of 'counterfeits'."

Lawrence was slightly stunned: "Counterfeits?"

"Counterfeits—a powerful force located in the deep sea caused all of this. I don't know what it is, but it has been entrenched here for many, many years, creating countless counterfeits. Remember the 'Sea Swallow' that you just destroyed? And Dagger Island…"

"They are all 'counterfeits'?!" Lawrence's eyes widened. He suddenly realized that the vortex he was caught in seemed even more bizarre and terrifying than he had imagined. "Wait, what about the Frost City-State we encountered before…"

"It is too, everything here is," Martha said calmly. "That power has long infiltrated the entire sea area. Everything that wanders and stays in this sea area for long enough cannot escape its replication. There are countless blind and empty copies wandering in the deep sea—what you have encountered is only a small part of them."

Lawrence seemed to be in a daze. After a long time, he suddenly woke up and looked at his "wife" in disbelief: "But… you look different. You can even talk to me. The ship even fought alongside the White Oak just now…"

Martha didn't speak, but simply looked at Lawrence with a calm and meaningful smile.

The latter stopped speaking and gradually reacted. He lowered his head, looking at his still ghostly, illusory body, and the ghostly green flames burning quietly on his body.

The appearance of the Black Oak was after the White Oak completed its "transformation" in the flames of the spirit body.

"You realized it, Lawrence," Martha said softly, "The only thing that can contend with great power is another, even greater power. Even this sea area cannot touch the spoils of the Lost Fleet—you and I are both the 'Ghost Ship's' spoils."

Lawrence listened blankly, feeling a little恍惚 (huanghu - dazed). Then, his expression changed slightly, and he realized the incongruity in the last few words she had said—that was not something the "Martha" who had parted with him forever decades ago should know!

Why did she know about the Lost Ship? Why did she know that the White Oak was Captain Duncan's "spoils"?

"You read my mind!" Lawrence's eyes suddenly widened, and the muscles on his body tensed up subconsciously. "You're not the real Martha!"

However, the figure standing not far away simply smiled, as if she didn't care about Lawrence's reaction at all. This calmness was the same as it had been decades ago: "If you want a 100% accurate and 'pure' Martha, I'm sorry, Lawrence, I'm really not her—but 'she' is a part of me. Martha's soul is in my body, and the other part of me comes from your consciousness and memories… This sea area is like a mirror, constantly reflecting everything that floats on its surface, and that naturally includes consciousness and memories.

"I didn't read your mind. Your consciousness naturally mapped into a part of me… Can't you accept this?"

Lawrence opened his mouth. After his expression changed several times, he finally gave a bitter tug at the corner of his mouth and spread his hands: "I don't know. I never even thought about what to do after really facing you. I… I don't know how to accept this… 'form' of you. I haven't even figured out what kind of existence you are."

He raised his head. The old captain, who had faced countless bizarre terrors on the boundless sea without ever wavering, now seemed a little lost and helpless.

He had never shown his weakness in front of anyone—except in front of his wife.

Martha quietly looked at the no-longer-young Lawrence. After a long time, she gave a helpless laugh: "You're still the same as before. At crucial moments, I always need to help you."

She walked over, raised her hand, and placed her living-temperature hands on Lawrence's shoulders.

"You need to be firm in yourself and have clear judgment…"

Lawrence frowned slightly, a little puzzled.

"Mr. Sailor, can I ask you to leave for a moment?" Martha turned her head again, looking at the abnormally well-behaved Anomalous 077. "The owner of the Lost Fleet will be satisfied with your cooperation."

The dried corpse wearing a sailor's smock immediately shuddered. Without saying a word, he turned and left the bridge.

Lawrence seemed to suddenly realize something and hurriedly opened his mouth: "Wait…"

But the door to the bridge had already closed.

Anomalous 077 ran quickly to the corridor outside the door. He only vaguely heard Captain Lawrence's last shout from inside: "Martha—I'm over sixty this year!"

He couldn't bear to hear the rest of the commotion.

A moment later, a creaking sound of the door shaft turning came. Anomalous 077 shrank his neck and cautiously turned his head to look. He saw the female adventurer standing in front of the door, with a relaxed and happy smile on her face.

Then, Lawrence also walked out, baring his teeth in pain. After seeing Anomalous 077 at the door, he immediately cast a warning glance—then quickly covered his head again, baring his teeth even more.

Anomalous 077 immediately withdrew his gaze, trying to reduce his presence like a real corpse.

Clearly, he had been beaten severely.

"Can you accept it now?" Martha turned her head and said to Lawrence with a smile.

Lawrence covered the swollen area on his head. He didn't know why his current form was almost a spirit body but he could still be beaten so hard by Martha. He only knew that such details were no longer important: "I can accept it, I can accept it…"

Wandering on the boundless sea still required a mindset that could see the bright side of everything.

After all, it seemed that if he couldn't see the bright side, Martha would help him "see" it—the female adventurer's forthright temperament was the same as it had been years ago, but he was already an old man over fifty…

"Then next, we should consider the real business," Martha said with a smile, folding her arms and leaning against the door. "Staying trapped here is not a solution."

Hearing this, Lawrence immediately restrained the complicated thoughts in his heart, and his expression became serious: "Martha, I wanted to ask you just now, what is the state of this sea area? Do you know how to leave here?"

"…I would love to answer you, but I'm sorry," Martha was silent for two seconds and said apologetically, "Although I've been wandering here for many years, after all, I and this ship are just one of the many counterfeits trapped here. But one thing is certain… this entire sea area is centered on that 'Frost City-State'. If there really is a rift intersecting with the real world here, it must be in Frost."