After completing their disguises and preparations,

Duncan turned his gaze towards the brightly lit, bustling city district.

Vanna assessed the situation in the city based on her experience: "It's curfew now. Guards will be patrolling the city streets, but patrols will be lighter in the outer areas. Even in a developed place like Prand, the lower city's guards can't watch every corner. Typically, the security standard for the edge of the city is 'to ensure that the nearest squad can arrive within twenty minutes if a supernatural event gets out of control, and that casualties are kept from spreading to nearby blocks.'"

"The Sea Swallow exploded near the city-state's coast, and no one on board survived. This can't be kept secret. The Frost authorities should be busy already, but they probably won't be able to draw any conclusions for a while," Maurice said from the side. "We should give them a warning."

"Oh, that's easy. I'm good at all kinds of reporting, and it usually makes the local departments nervous," Duncan said casually. "But besides the warning, we need to do our own investigation—this matter is very strange. I smell an atmosphere similar to that of Prand back then. Those cultists are up to something big, I'm afraid."

As he spoke, he picked up the map Tirian had prepared for him.

The map was very detailed, with various special markings. It was clearly not something issued by the city-state's civilians – without a doubt, Tirian's informant in this city-state had made a significant contribution to this map.

Vanna quickly found two locations of interest: Hearth Street, located on the edge of the inner city, and the graveyard area, which was closer to the heart of the inner city.

Vanna's gaze landed on this ordinary block marked as the graveyard area, seeing the entire area divided into four graveyards, numbered from one to four. They were almost symmetrically distributed around the city-state's central church district, forming a vague ring, which didn't seem like a normal city-state's planning method.

Was this also a requirement of the god of death, Bartok?

"We'll go to Hearth Street first, to visit your 'old friend'."

Duncan looked up and glanced at Tirian. "Then, when the curfew starts, you and Vanna find a place to stay in the city. Alice and I will take a trip to Cemetery Number Three."

"That contaminated warship sank, sank extremely quickly," Duncan said, extracting useful memories and intelligence from his newly occupied body. "It was like something was dragging it down from the seabed..."

Gray outer walls, dark-colored sloping roofs, black doors, and gas lamps with ironwork decorations – a typical architecture of the northern city-states, and it looked like it had been inhabited recently.

Tirian stepped forward and confirmed the house number next to the door in the light of the gas lamp.

Under the cold and lonely night sky, a white dove flew from the Frost Coast into the night, heading towards this patch of lights in the distant city district.

Vanna's figure appeared on the deck.

After gathering her thoughts slightly, Vanna asked in her mind, "Where is Tirian?"

A slightly old-looking house stood at the corner of Hearth Street.

"No defense system is foolproof, especially since the contamination came from the deep sea and is more likely related to the Gloom Lord," Duncan shook his head. "The Frost authorities should be alarmed by the warship's self-destruction, but I don't have much confidence in them. I still have to go and see for myself."

"...Penetrating contamination. Something silently pierced the defense system on Dagger Island," Tirian instantly understood, but then he felt incredulous. "But... the defense system there shouldn't be so easily breached..."

"Graveyard?" Tirian asked subconsciously.

"Wasn't it about giving the city-state authorities a little warning? We can't just run to the city hall or the cathedral and knock on the door to report it, can we?" Duncan smiled. "There is a channel to get the message across, and I happen to know such a channel in Cemetery Number Three."/

In the cold night, he moved his hands, feet, and shoulders, feeling the wonderful sensation of his consciousness controlling multiple bodies.

Feeling the sense of delay gradually fading, he breathed a sigh of relief.

In just a little while, she had handled matters on the Forsaken Pioneer while ensuring Duncan's actions.

The night patrol guard squad had just left this place, and the citizens of the city-state would not go out in this late hour. No one noticed the firelight that suddenly appeared in the shadows of the alley, and no one noticed several strange figures walking out of the shadows.

Under the quiet and cold night, the great pirate suddenly shivered.

"Since the Frost Rebellion, half a century has passed. Let's assume that the 'thing' disturbed by Project Abyss has never been dormant in these past fifty years, but has been active, even consciously accumulating power," Duncan's gaze looked into the distance, his voice calm as if brewing a storm. "Tirian, how many ships do you say have sunk into the distant sea of Frost in these past fifty years? How many things might be hidden beneath that city-state now?"

"A ship of the Frost military exploded and sank on its way back to the main island—it briefly stopped at Dagger Island, and became a carrier of contamination when it returned," Duncan didn't hide anything. "Now I believe the situation on Dagger Island may have spiraled out of control, but for unknown reasons, the entire warning system on the island has not reacted in any way, and the Frost main island has not received any abnormal reports either."

And just as he was distracted, Tirian heard a steady and powerful footstep coming from a distance. He looked in the direction of the sound and saw his father's figure appearing on the deck under the night sky.

Vanna turned her head, with a confident smile on her face: "We will take your worries very seriously."

The creaking sound came from the taut cables and masts, and the sound of the huge hull hitting the waves as it adjusted its course also broke the silence of the night. Tirian, who was standing on the stern deck and looking into the distance, was startled by the sudden movement. He raised his head in surprise and saw the black helm on the high bridge slowly turning, as if an inhuman being was steering there against the backdrop of the faint light scattered by the Worldscar.

"I know, I've seen it twice," Tirian came back to his senses, his expression returned to normal. "It's just that I'm still a little unaccustomed—although the Sea Mist also has some 'living' characteristics, your ship's 'activity' is too high in comparison."

"Startled by the sudden movement?" Duncan saw Tirian staring at the helm just now, and said with a non-smile, "The Goat Head is at the helm."

"No need, I'm going there anyway,"

Duncan shook his head and then casually ordered, "Adjust course to Dagger Island, full speed."

Tirian remained noncommittal, but after observing the ship's sailing posture, he couldn't help but ask, "The Forsaken Pioneer is accelerating and adjusting its course—what are you going to do?"

A white dove flew into the city district. In the depths of the deserted streets during curfew, a flash of ghostly green light flickered past.

Tirian's expression gradually changed, and a layer of gravity slowly floated in his single eye: "You mean..."

And at the same time, on the Forsaken Pioneer far away in the Frigid Sea, the door of the captain's room finally opened.

"The worst case scenario?"

Duncan subconsciously opened his mouth: "Getting the message across is one aspect, but it's more important to draw enough attention..."

The deck quieted down.

"Dagger Island?" Tirian was taken aback and immediately reacted, "Something happened there?!"

"I'll send Aey back to you later. You take your team and stand by in the distance," Duncan thought for a while, still undecided in his mind. "Prepare for the worst-case scenario."

"...Then what about me?" Tirian thought for a while, vaguely understanding what his father meant, "What do you need me to do?"

Many parts of the Forsaken Pioneer were indeed still the same as he remembered, but this ship was always reminding him in various inadvertent details—it was a ghost ship that had been baptized by the sub-space.

He had just spent some time adapting to his new body—compared to the stumbling situation when Maurice first tried "multitasking" at the beginning, this time, with an extra body added, he adapted more quickly and smoothly.

Checking the situation inside a house doesn't require too many people, and if this "Brown Scott" is really inside and has a certain ability to communicate, then bringing too many people may cause unexpected trouble—after all, Duncan didn't come to kill today, he came to inquire about information.

This is indeed the residence that Brown Scott mentioned in the letter.

The Goat Head's voice immediately rang out: "He is far away on the stern deck, do you need to call him over?"

"Alice and I will go and check the situation," Duncan, wearing a black long windbreaker and a wide-brimmed hat, turned his head and said to Vanna and Tirian beside him. His voice sounded low and muffled from under the thick bandages, "You wait in the distance—just don't alarm the night patrol guards."

"This brings unexpected convenience," Duncan said casually.

Although it was the first time he had seen such a scene after boarding this ship again, he couldn't help but frown.