Cannon fire roared, and scorching shells shrieked as they plummeted from the sky. Enormous plumes of water rose one after another around the harbor, some so close they nearly scraped the White Oak's hull. The sea churned and surged, and the entire ship shuddered from the impacts, groaning and creaking ominously.

Laurence and First Mate Gus led twelve sailors up the rope ladder, returning safely to the deck of the White Oak. Behind them, Dagger Island remained shrouded in mist, and a sudden, chaotic gust of wind swept across the deserted port. The mist swirled and billowed as if full of malice, enraged by the uninvited guests.

The boatswain hurried over, the tall seaman looking flustered, clutching a rifle (though it was of little use in naval combat). He reached Laurence, quickly assessed the captain's condition, and visibly relaxed. "Thank heavens! You're finally back—we heard thunder on the island, and with you gone so long, the second mate thought something had happened to you..."

Laurence's mind flashed back to the scene in the dockside plaza. He thought of the four extra sailors, the sudden burst of green flames, and a complicated expression crossed his face.

Something *had* happened, and it was no small matter.

But now was clearly not the time for explanations.

"Never mind that for now," he said, shaking his head. "What's the situation? Where's Jason?"

"The second mate is commanding the battle from the bridge. We're engaged with an unidentified warship," the boatswain said quickly. "The ship opened fire on us as soon as it appeared in the distance and has been closing ever since—the stern took a hit a while ago, luckily it wasn't too serious, but we have to get out of here. The White Oak is no match for a warship."

"Leave here, now," Laurence said quickly.

The steam core emitted a deep rumble, and the refined gold catalyst began to release surging energy. The powerful engine drove the propellers, causing the White Oak to accelerate away from the eerie port. Amidst the plumes of water from the shells falling nearby, the advanced cargo exploration ship with its white hull continuously gained speed, leaving Dagger Island behind in a shroud of mist.

However, the attacker relentlessly pursued.

Laurence went to the bridge and observed the situation on the sea through the large windows on the side and rear. At the edge of the vast sea, he could clearly see the silhouette of the attacker—a warship of no great size, continuously firing its main guns from the bow as it chased after them. Bright flashes repeatedly pierced the dim sky that enveloped the entire sea.

Fortunately, it was a small ship, not a heavily armed battleship. Otherwise, the White Oak would never have survived this attack.

Unfortunately, the ship was extremely fast. Even with the White Oak's speed constantly increasing, Laurence judged that the ship would eventually catch up.

The ship was even accelerating.

"We can't shake it," the first mate said, sounding somewhat desperate. "It's too fast…and our firepower is no match for a warship!"

Laurence remained silent, thinking quickly.

Classified as a civilian vessel, the White Oak was not a lamb to the slaughter. As a special exploration ship capable of long-term voyages on the boundless sea and of transporting sealed items between city-states, it possessed a military-grade steam core and anti-sinking structure. Moreover, its keel, waterline hull, and superstructure had all been specially reinforced. It could be said that in terms of hull strength alone, the ship was no weaker than a warship of the same class.

What it lacked was firepower—after all, as a civilian vessel, it could only mount a few small-caliber guns for dealing with small groups of pirates or sea monsters. That kind of weaponry was completely ineffective against a warship.

As things stood, the White Oak would be caught sooner or later—when the two ships were closer, the enemy's firing accuracy would not be so low.

No matter how strong the hull structure, it couldn't withstand being used as a target for too long.

A sharp whistling sound suddenly approached rapidly, followed by a deafening roar that interrupted Laurence's thoughts. His ears rang, the ground shook beneath his feet, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a fireball suddenly erupt on the side of the White Oak, sending fragments of metal and deck structure flying in all directions.

The boatswain shouted, "Hit on the starboard side…

Quick, put out the fire!"

Laurence steadied himself in the violent shaking, his expression rapidly changing, as if he had suddenly made a decision.

"The manifest," he said, raising his head and looking at the first mate, who was maintaining order on the bridge. "Get the manifest!"

"The manifest?" The first mate paused for a moment, then understood the captain's intention. His expression became particularly conflicted and grave, but he immediately carried out the order, handing Laurence a logbook.

Laurence opened the logbook, his eyes quickly scanning the contents, finally stopping on one line.

"Open sealing chamber two and bring the sealed object 'Anomaly 077' to the bridge," he said, raising his head and quickly ordering the first mate. "Prepare a clean shroud and a new noose, ready for re-sealing at any time."

The first mate's face was tight. Although he had expected this situation, he still seemed particularly hesitant. "Captain, this…"

"It's an emergency, we have no choice," Laurence said sternly. "There's precedent for unsealing objects on board in special situations to resolve crises—I'll explain to the church later if they want to investigate."

The first mate seemed to want to say something, but faced with the old captain's stern gaze, he swallowed his words and nodded vigorously. "Yes, Captain!"

The order was quickly carried out, and several sailors specifically responsible for handling sealed objects ran to the special area located on the lower deck, opened sealing chamber two, and deactivated the room's sealed state according to Anomaly 077's containment rules.

A moment later, amidst the roar of cannon fire, several sailors brought Anomaly 077 to the bridge, placing what the captain wanted in front of Laurence.

Laurence lowered his head, his expression particularly solemn as he gazed at the "anomalous item" that the sailors had brought from the sealing chamber.

It was a mummified corpse tightly wrapped in a shroud.

Anomaly 077—Sailor.

Laurence knew the information about every piece of cargo on his ship, including this anomalous item.

Anomaly 077 first appeared on an exploration ship that had mysteriously disappeared for three years and was believed to be the culprit behind the ship's demise. The anomaly's appearance was that of a mummified corpse, about 1.7 meters tall. In its unsealed state, it exhibited the characteristics of a "living thing," even being able to talk and think. Its power was highly correlated with its "identity."

As a sailor, it would attempt to influence the nearest ship, ignoring any environmental conditions, ship types, or handling techniques, and take over all of the ship's functions in a short period. Once it completed the takeover, it would cause the ship to teleport randomly—the entire process taking only a few minutes. A ship of any size would be sent to a random corner of the boundless sea under the "sailor's" influence.

But this teleportation was not a safe trip—ships teleported by Anomaly 077 would always appear in the center of a great storm.

No one knew whether Anomaly 077 specifically chose storms as the teleportation landing point, or whether it created a storm specifically for the teleportation. The only thing that was certain was that in the large number of recorded teleportation events, only a small number of ships could safely navigate away from the storm at the "landing point."

More ships and hundreds and thousands of unfortunates became victims of Anomaly 077.

However, according to the information Laurence possessed, Anomaly 077 itself was not difficult to deal with—although the unsealed anomaly would unconditionally activate its abilities before the teleportation was complete, it was easily resealed once the teleportation was complete. Simply placing a new noose around its neck would immediately stop its actions, and wrapping it in a shroud would return it to its slumber—the mummy had no superhuman strength and was not very strong in combat.

At that time, the only thing the White Oak's crew would need to do was figure out how to weather a storm—and Laurence and his sailors had weathered countless storms.

Laurence bent down and slowly placed his hand on Anomaly 077's shroud.

The crew on the bridge watched the scene nervously.

Laurence took a deep breath and pulled open the shroud's knot.

A slight sucking sound entered his ears almost instantly.

The sound came from the shrouded mummy.

The shroud loosened, as if an invisible force had instantly untied all the knots. Anomaly 077's true appearance was exposed to everyone's gaze—a mummy wearing an old-fashioned sailor's smock, with sparse, thinning hair and a body shriveled almost to a skeleton, lying quietly on the floor.

The mummy's chest was rising and falling slightly, and the rising and falling became more and more obvious. In the end, Laurence even thought he could hear the other person's heartbeat and breathing.

Anomaly 077 was free—the sailor awakened from its seal.

The mummy slowly opened its eyes, stiffly sitting up bit by bit, its joints cracking.

"This ship is temporarily under your command," Laurence said through gritted teeth, his expression complex. "Take us away from here."

Anomaly 077 sat up straight, slowly looking around, its gaze finally landing on Laurence.

For some reason, Laurence suddenly felt as if he saw a trace of horror on that shriveled, terrifying face.

Then he saw the mummy actually shiver.

"D-don't…don't mess around!"

A hoarse, frightened exclamation came from the mummy's mouth. The next moment, it closed its eyes in full view and simply lay down, pretending to be dead.

It even reached out and tugged at the scattered shroud beside it, as if trying to secretly wrap the strips of cloth back around itself.

Laurence: "····?"

The sailors: "……?"