A copy of the Pland Daily News cost twelve pesos, equivalent to a meager breakfast or the cheapest dessert at the Crossroads District—the newspaper could be bought from passing newsboys, or by walking a few more steps to a newsstand at the end of another street.

Duncan, clutching a few coins, bought a local newspaper from the newsstand. The owner, a middle-aged man engrossed in reading, waved dismissively when he heard Duncan drop the coins into the box, indicating that he could take the paper himself without even looking up.

Duncan craned his neck to see what the man was reading and discovered it was an analysis article of past lottery draws, with gaudy lines outlining every unrealistic fantasy.

He glanced down at the newspaper he had just bought. The headline on the front page was the news that interested him most:

The esteemed Church Guardian forces, led by Inquisitor Vanna Wayne, successfully destroyed a gathering point of the Solar Cult and captured a large number of cultists on the scene, while rescuing several citizens…

The photo of that "Inquisitor" was printed on the side of the news item. To Duncan's surprise, it was a rather young woman with a prominent scar over her left eye, but still a beautiful lady—she stood with her subordinates, averaging half a head taller than every man around her.

The Inquisitor wore form-fitting, light armor and a war skirt, and carried a two-handed greatsword that seemed straight out of the Middle Ages, like a dashing female knight from a medieval painting—however, behind this woman and a group of Church Guardians, one could see a huge steam-powered machine, with obvious turret structures visible on its body…

A strange and bizarre art style, contradictory yet harmonious.

Duncan's gaze lingered on this photo for a long time.

The news of the cultist gathering point being destroyed was good news for him. Without worrying about exposing his identity, he could see the villains who performed live sacrifices being arrested without any psychological pressure. On the other hand, he was more concerned about the information revealed in the photo.

A female Inquisitor who specializes in dealing with cultists, fully armed steam-powered armor robots, and Church armed forces equipped with both cold weapons and firearms…

Information that was extremely difficult to obtain on the *Abandoned Lighthouse* could be clearly understood with just a twelve-peso newspaper in civilized society.

Just as Duncan had thought—while the *Abandoned Lighthouse* drifted aimlessly for a century, times had changed.

Even without considering such shallow perspectives as "who can fight better," the mortal civilization represented by the Pland city-state had developed to a stage that could be described as… wonderful.

A street corner was not a good place to read the newspaper. Duncan casually rolled it up and tucked it under his arm. He remembered that there was a "niece" named Nina waiting for him at the antique shop, so he walked back.

Compared to wandering aimlessly in the city alone, a local who innately trusted him was obviously a better source of information.

As for the *Abandoned Lighthouse*, Duncan wasn't worried—even in the spirit-walking state, he could still clearly sense the situation on the ship, sense the state of his other body. The Goat-head was steering for him, and Alice seemed quite well-behaved. He should be able to operate here for a while longer.

Anyway, the crew rules of the *Abandoned Lighthouse* originally stated that "the captain will occasionally leave the ship," so it shouldn't be a big deal for the captain to take a spirit-walking stroll for a couple of days, right?

Moreover, as the spirit-walking continued, Duncan felt that his control over this special "spiritual projection" was gradually becoming more proficient. Perhaps soon he could try to control the activities of both bodies at the same time—then he wouldn't have to worry about the situation on the ship during his spirit walk.

A sweet scent suddenly wafted over from the side. Duncan stopped subconsciously and looked over. He saw a street-side cake shop, with freshly baked pastries being displayed outside.

This was the lower district of the Pland city-state, so naturally there were no high-end dessert shops, but even some of the cheapest, crudest pastries made Duncan stop.

He still had a few coins in his pocket, less than twenty pesos in total, but enough to buy a piece of cake.

After a slight hesitation, he went to the cake shop and bought a piece of the most ordinary honeycomb cake—the packaging material used by the shop was some kind of coarse, thick paper that felt rough to the touch.

Duncan walked towards the antique shop with the newspaper and cake, his mood inexplicably cheerful.

Walking down the street, talking to people, buying things, returning to his residence.

Such simple things gave him a sense of being in another world—he almost savoring the feeling of breathing on land, and regarded these ordinary daily routines as some kind of precious life experience.

Life on the *Abandoned Lighthouse* was actually not bad. The Goat-head was noisy but reliable, and Alice was an interesting fellow, but experiencing life on land wasn't bad either.

Before long, Duncan returned to the antique shop. Before pushing the door open, he looked up at the shop's sign—the row of letters "Duncan's Antique Shop" was still quietly printed on it, with an old-fashioned texture that seemed unchanged for more than a decade.

He pushed the door open, and the crisp sound of a bell rang. Immediately afterward, there was a rush of footsteps from the direction of the stairs.

A young girl with long brown hair ran down hastily, then stopped abruptly at the entrance to the stairs. She held onto the nearby pillar and looked at Duncan with wide eyes, her expression tense and worried.

"Uncle Duncan, where did you go?" she said quickly. "You said you were going to take a look outside, but you disappeared in the blink of an eye… I thought you had run off to the tavern or the casino again…"

Duncan looked at the girl in front of him with some surprise. He could hear that she was genuinely worried and concerned about something.

She was worried about a family member, the only remaining one in the world, who she depended on—even if this family member was a degenerate and grumpy drunkard and gambler, and secretly involved in the bloody deeds of cultists.

An indescribable feeling welled up faintly, but his expression didn't change: "I just went out for a walk and bought something."

As he spoke, he walked towards the counter of the antique shop, preparing to put the newspaper and cake on it. Nina seemed to suddenly relax, then immediately ran upstairs, saying quickly as she ran: "Uncle, wait a moment, I'll bring down breakfast—you definitely haven't had breakfast at this hour, have you? I made corn and beet soup…"

Before Duncan could say anything, Nina's figure had disappeared up the stairs. After a while, she carefully walked down with a large tray.

On the tray was a simple breakfast for two.

Duncan stared blankly at the girl busying around, watching her skillfully clear a space on the counter, put the food down, and then move an extra chair for him…

She was extremely nimble and radiated a sense of joy from who knew where.

Duncan watched her busy, wanting to help but unable to find a way to interject.

He had dealt with many young people of this age, but he had hardly ever seen a child as diligent and agile as her.

Back on Earth, she should only be a high school student. Even here, she looked like a student.

Duncan suddenly thought that living with an "uncle" who had fallen into a cult was probably not an easy thing—but this girl named Nina seemed to have completely adapted to this life that couldn't be considered happy no matter how you looked at it, and could still find things to support herself in life.

"Let's eat," Nina said at this time, having prepared everything. She looked at Duncan and said, as if she had said it countless times, "Doctor Albert said that if you can eat breakfast regularly and maintain a good mood, in the long run, it will be more effective than liquor… than painkillers."

Duncan didn't speak for a moment, just looked quietly at Nina. Before her expression became uneasy and tense, he took the cake that he had placed aside earlier, opened the package, and placed it in front of Nina.

Nina opened her eyes wide in surprise, looking at the thing in front of her in confusion: "This is…"

"Cake, bought from the street corner," Duncan said casually. "You're growing, eat something nutritious for breakfast."

Nina was stunned. She just stared blankly at the cheap pastry, and only after a while did she seem to react, whispering to herself almost inaudibly: "Are you really okay?"

"Of course I'm okay," Duncan said with a very natural expression. "I just suddenly remembered that I haven't bought you dessert in a long time."

"Indeed, it's been more than a year…" Nina muttered, but then suddenly smiled and picked up a knife. "Then we'll each have half. Doctor Albert said that you also need something nutritious."

Duncan felt very strange, but after a moment of silence, he nodded.

"...Okay."