Duncan put the book back and checked the other furnishings in the room, but found nothing of value—the items in this small bedroom were pitifully few, and it didn't seem to be used often. The most valuable clues were the book and two old notebooks in the desk drawer.

The notebooks were filled with content related to steam engines and engineering principles, occasionally interspersed with a few complaints about certain teachers or classmates.

This made it easy to conclude that the occupant was a young person still studying.

Duncan slowly sorted through the fragments of memory in his mind, and after restoring the room to its original state, he returned to the master bedroom.

Sitting on the edge of the bed for a while, he got up again and went to the standing cabinet next to it. Almost following the memory in his muscles, he pulled open the cabinet door and opened one of the drawers.

Several bottles of liquor were quietly hidden in the depths of the drawer, along with half a box of pills for pain relief and nerve soothing—these were the belongings that the cultist named "Ron" had left in the world.

He had a serious illness that had deteriorated beyond cure. Poorly made liquor and painkillers that could provide temporary relief were common items in the drawer, but these things obviously did nothing to extend the life of a person plagued by illness.

So this man, who had lost hope in life, turned to the Church of the Sun. The missionaries told him that the healing power of the Sun God could solve all the world's stubborn diseases and purify the body and mind of those who converted. And to some extent, those cultists did deliver on their promise:

They had bloody and bizarre rituals, using blood as a medium to transfer the vitality of innocent people into the bodies of afflicted believers. Duncan didn't know the principle behind this ritual, nor did he know if it could really cure incurable diseases, but according to the remnants of memory, the cultist named "Ron" did experience an improvement in his condition after the ritual and became even more devoted to the Sun, even donating a large portion of his wealth to the "messenger."

But Duncan didn't care about what had happened between those dead cultists.

He reached deeper into the drawer, successfully groped for a hidden compartment, fiddled with it for a while, and found a revolver and a box of bullets in good condition.

The Pland City-State did not prohibit citizens from owning guns, but legal procedures were required, and a fake antique dealer living in the lower city obviously lacked the funds and status to obtain a gun license. So this was undoubtedly an illegally possessed weapon—out of caution, the original owner of this body had left the gun in the room and did not take it to the assembly site. He probably used it to protect his shop, but now it belonged to the captain.

Duncan certainly knew that this was just an ordinary weapon. Not to mention compared to the "anomalies" on the Shiyang, even his seemingly backward flintlock on the ship might have special powers surpassing this revolver—but he was a realistic person. He knew that his actions in the Pland City-State were different from those on the ship, and the body he was using now was made of flesh and blood, and many places in this city were far from safe.

After all, he couldn't just have the pigeon take care of everything—Ai's activities were too noisy and could easily attract unnecessary attention from the church forces in the city.

Just then, a slight sound suddenly caught Duncan's attention.

He heard the sound of keys rubbing together coming from the direction of the shop entrance on the first floor, followed by the sound of the door opening and hurried footsteps.

Duncan quickly tucked the revolver away, and at the same time, he noticed that it was already broad daylight outside the window—he had been busy in this antique shop all night, and the pigeon Ai suddenly started chirping on his shoulder, "You have a new short message!"

"Quiet," Duncan immediately glanced at the pigeon, quickly saying as he walked towards the door, "Stay in the room for now and wait for my orders. Also, if there are outsiders present, don't speak."

Ai immediately flapped its wings and flew to a nearby cabinet, "Ayecaptain!"

Duncan quickly left the room, and just as he reached the stairwell, he heard the hurried footsteps already on the steps, followed by a young and anxious girl's voice from below, "Uncle Duncan? Is that you back?"

The next second, a girl wearing a brown long dress and a white shirt, with long dark brown hair, came into Duncan's view.

The girl looked only seventeen or eighteen years old, thin and small, with a little morning dew still on her hair. Her appearance was not particularly outstanding, but she had the youthful beauty that this age should have. She stared at Duncan, who was standing at the stairwell on the second floor, her face surprised and unexpected. 138 Read Net

Duncan didn't respond. He just stood silently on the second floor, the sunlight shining in from a narrow window behind the stairs against his figure, hiding his expression in the haze. He looked at the girl silently for several seconds before finally slowly opening his mouth, "What did you call me just now?"

"Duncan... Uncle?" The girl had a moment of surprise on her face, then became slightly nervous. She held onto the stair railing beside her, cautiously peering, as if trying to see the expression on the middle-aged man's face upstairs in the backlight, "Is something wrong? Are... are you drunk again? You haven't been home for days... I just saw the light on downstairs..."

The girl's expression and voice fell into Duncan's eyes and ears. She obviously didn't know (or hadn't even thought) to hide her emotional reactions.

According to the memories he had devoured, this girl should be the "niece" of the original owner of this body, and his only relative.

Duncan vaguely determined that this girl didn't think there was anything wrong with what she said at all, and didn't realize that the "Uncle Duncan" she called out was an incorrect title from the beginning.

What went wrong? Why would this girl, who theoretically couldn't possibly know his secret, call out the name "Duncan" so naturally?

Numerous guesses churned quickly in his heart. At the same time, Duncan also found a little information corresponding to this girl in the fragments of memory—that child with dark brown hair, the last figure in the world that the original owner of this body still had some attachment to.

"Nina," Duncan's expression didn't change, his tone was calm, and the storm of thoughts in his mind didn't show at all, "Did you stay at school yesterday?"

"I've been staying at school these days," the girl downstairs immediately replied, "I thought you would stay out for at least a week like before, so after cleaning up the house, I went to borrow a place from my classmate... Mrs. White, who manages the dormitory, agreed. I suddenly realized that I had left a book at home today, so I rushed back... Are you okay? I feel like you're... acting strange..."

"I'm fine, I just didn't wake up properly."

Duncan responded naturally, then stepped towards the first floor. A certain extremely absurd guess had already arisen in his heart, and now he had to confirm it.

He passed by Nina. The young girl on the stairs turned her body to the side and looked curiously into Duncan's eyes. When he was almost on the first floor, she suddenly asked, "Uncle Duncan, are you going out later? Are you... going to stay home for a few more days?"

"...Depends on the situation," Duncan didn't turn his head, because he wasn't sure if the expression on his face was natural enough. He was just answering his "niece's" question in the tone he remembered, "I'll just go to the door and see. If there's nothing wrong, I'll stay home for these few days."

"Ah, okay, then I'll go buy groceries later. There's not much food at home..."

The girl said quickly, and ran upstairs with quick steps and a light tone.

Duncan had already reached the shop entrance. He took a light breath and pushed open the door.

He turned around and looked up at the sign hanging at the shop entrance. On the old and dirty sign, a line of letters was clearly visible: Duncan Antique Shop.

The first few letters were as old as the letters that followed, and there was no sign of temporary modification at all, as if it had been like this from the beginning.

Duncan frowned and slowly came to the window next to him. He leaned forward, observing his face through the picture reflected by the dirty glass.

It was indeed an unfamiliar face, not belonging to the majestic and gloomy captain of the ghost ship, but the face of a middle-aged man with a stubble, sunken eyes, and a tired look, belonging to the cultist named Ron who had choked in the sewers.

Duncan straightened up little by little. He heard the city slowly becoming active around him. The crisp sound of bells colliding came from the front doors of the shops opening in the morning, the sound of bicycle bells and the voices of passersby gradually filled the street. Someone passed by the antique shop. It seemed to be the neighbor living next door. A greeting came to Duncan's ears:

"Good morning, Mr. Duncan—have you seen today's newspaper? The Deep Sea Church seems to have destroyed a very large cultist den. This is really a big deal!"