Jiang Huan struggled to his feet, the mechanical and steady knocking continuing without pause.
His brain felt as if it had been ground in a stone mill, throbbing with a sharp, rhythmic pain.
A chaotic surge of memories flooded his mind once more.
As his vision gradually cleared from its blurriness, he subconsciously raised a hand to wipe the corner of his eye, his fingertips touching a warm, wet moisture.
Looking down, his hand was stained a deep crimson.
"Crap, this start is just... incredible."
He didn't have time to wipe his hands; his gaze was immediately drawn to a mess on the floor.
It was the filth he had just vomited.
If it could even be called 'vomit.'
A clump of grayish-black matter, somewhere between jelly and flesh, was twitching and writhing slightly on the floor.
It looked like tentacles, yet also like raw meat.
He suddenly felt a surge of hesitation about opening the door.
In his previous life, he had spent less than half a lifetime as a corporate slave, dying young before achieving anything, and now he had just come back to life only to experience the eldritch.
What kind of world was this, exactly?
The original owner's mysterious cause of death had already made him feel something was wrong with this place, and now the case was closed—this world is Lovecraftian!
Knock, knock, knock.
The knocking outside the door remained tireless.
Just as he was about to try putting the scattered bullets back into the revolver, two low human voices suddenly came from outside.
Muffled by the wooden door, they nonetheless carried a reassuringly mundane quality.
"No movement? Either he got scared off long ago, or he's dead as a doornail."
"Looks like we'll have to recruit a new keeper again. This batch's quality is just no good."
"I hope we can carry him out before that damn corpse stench starts to spread."
Jiang Huan: "..."
However, confirming that there were humans outside, he took a deep breath, propped himself up by his knees, and stood up shakily. Dragging his legs as if they were filled with lead, he pulled open the wooden door.
The sea breeze, laden with a salty, fishy smell, rushed in.
Two people stood outside the door.
Leading them was a man who looked like a stereotypical captain, a pipe clenched in his teeth and a thick, grizzled white beard.
Behind him stood a tall young man wearing a sailor's uniform—though not the decorative kind.
As Jiang Huan pulled the door open, both of them were startled.
They weren't surprised that Jiang Huan—or rather, Elias—was alive, but rather that he had bloodshot eyes, a face covered in blood, and was leaning against the doorframe looking like he could barely walk.
The old captain's hand instantly moved to the flintlock pistol at his waist.
The young sailor was even more direct; with a 'clink,' he drew his cutlass, the tip pointing straight at Jiang Huan's nose.
"So, are you Captain Whitebeard?"
He didn't even have the strength to make a gesture of surrender.
The old captain froze for a moment, then waved his hand to signal the young man to lower his blade.
"Put it away, Malcolm."
From Jiang Huan's logical and sarcastic tone, he judged that the fellow in front of him was most likely still a sane human being.
He then spat to the side.
"Who's this 'Whitebeard'?
I'm the captain of your supply ship, Edward Crowley.
You can call me Captain Crowley."
Jiang Huan's lips twitched: "That sounds about right."
"What sounds right?"
"Nothing."
Captain Crowley looked him over suspiciously.
"This guy... is a bit unhinged. Keep an eye on him."
He leaned slightly to the side and whispered to Malcolm.
The problem was that Jiang Huan could hear him perfectly.
He really wanted to argue, but considering his current appearance and the pile of unknown matter on the floor, he felt that 'a bit unhinged' might actually be a very high evaluation.
"Still, young man, the fact that you're alive is indeed a surprise to me."
Captain Crowley looked at him again, his gaze passing over Jiang Huan's shoulder to catch a glimpse of the writhing filth on the floor inside the room.
The old man chuckled.
"I think you have great potential!"
"Many people have come here, but most can't last until the second resupply.
Some go mad, some jump into the sea, and others... well, they just disappear."
"Thanks for the compliment, but I'm not interested in that kind of potential."
"You might encounter some strange things here, but don't worry, you should be able to handle most of them—as long as you don't stick your nose into things that don't concern you."
Captain Crowley pointed significantly at his own eyes.
"And don't believe too much of what you see.
When people stay in lonely places for too long, their brains tend to rust. It's normal to have hallucinations.
You'd better follow the rules the company left in the tower."
Having said that, he clapped his hands, adopting the air of a man herding ducks.
"Alright, don't just stand there like a girl.
Young man, drag your ass over to the ship and move your supplies!
We don't have time to stand around here blowing in the sea breeze with you."
Hearing this, Jiang Huan didn't move. Instead, he stared fixedly at the schooner on the sea.
It could leave this place.
Images from his memories attacked him again.
Giant waves, singing, the eldritch maw leaping from the sea, and the original owner's desperate sense of suffocation.
This sea ate people.
"Wait!"
Jiang Huan spoke up abruptly.
"I want to resign!"
"And you guys just sailed the ship right here?"
"How else? You think we flew?"
Crowley looked at him as if he were an idiot.
"On the way... did you encounter anything?" Jiang Huan asked tentatively.
"Like singing mermaids? Or fish the size of mountains?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Crowley and Malcolm exchanged a look and then burst into harsh laughter.
"Hahaha! Kid, did you hear that? He said mermaids! And mountain-sized fish!"
"In waters as shallow as these between here and Hastings Port, how could there be fish that big?"
Malcolm looked at him with mockery and a hint of pity.
"Young man, although this sea isn't exactly peaceful, it's mostly just some wind, waves, and reefs.
As for those monsters you mentioned that swallow ships in one bite... those are stories used to scare children to sleep."
Jiang Huan was stunned.
That's not right.
Was something wrong with the memories?
Or was it the hallucinations the old man mentioned?
Am I crazy?
No, was Elias crazy?
"Alright, stop your daydreaming."
Crowley patted his face.
"Want to resign? Sure."
"Go find the supervisor at the port. This counts as a personnel transfer."
"Then take me to see the supervisor."
"That won't do."
The old captain shook his head, putting on the air of a rogue following protocol.
"Company rules state you can only board the ship during the next rotation.
If I take you away now, it's a breach of contract.
You'll face a massive penalty, enough to have you sold off to the mines for the rest of your life."
"My damn life is almost over, who cares about a penalty?!"
Captain Crowley spread his hands with an air of righteousness.
"The main thing is that I'd have to pay a penalty too. If I take a keeper away without permission, my bonus is gone.
Unless... you want to pay mine too?"
Looking at the old man's wrinkled face, which practically screamed 'I wouldn't do it even if you paid more,' Jiang Huan was so angry he nearly stopped breathing.
"Get out!"
A thousand words condensed into one.
Jiang Huan was in despair.
He felt the weakness in his body, looked at the two men with weapons at their waists, and then at the schooner in the distance which might hide even more burly men.
Taking the ship by force? That was a death wish.
He had no choice; he had to endure.
Jiang Huan gritted his teeth, forced himself to perk up, and followed the two with heavy steps toward the pier.
He hadn't yet decided to fully become Elias Rockland.
But at the very least, he had to survive for now.
There were quite a lot of supplies.
The most conspicuous were several tightly sealed small wooden barrels with strange symbols painted on them.
It was the special grease recorded in the memories and the diary, used for maintaining the tower light.
Besides that, there were regular lighthouse maintenance tools: brand-new wicks, wrenches, rags, and so on.
The rest were living supplies.
A few bags of damp flour, dried meat hard enough to kill someone, and several large barrels of fresh water.
Jiang Huan was panting from the exertion, feeling like his lungs were about to burst.
In contrast, the old geezer Crowley and the young pup Malcolm not only had great strength but also incredible stamina.
The old geezer didn't act like an old geezer, and the young pup didn't act like a human.
Malcolm could lift two large barrels of fresh water with one hand, walking like the wind without even breaking a sweat, as if he were some kind of human-skinned hydraulic press.
He was practically a superhuman...
The moving work ended quickly.
The two jumped onto the skiff and nimbly untied the ropes.
Before leaving, Captain Crowley sat at the stern, took a puff from his pipe, and gave the Jiang Huan on the shore a weird smile.
"Keep up the good work, young man."
"May the Lord of the Raging Sea guide you."
Amidst the swirling smoke, his expression was somewhat blurred, but his voice pierced through the sea breeze and clearly reached Jiang Huan's ears.
"Next time, I'll come to collect your corpse.
Of course, if you're lucky enough not to die, I'll tell you some of the things you want to know."
The skiff cut through the waves, heading toward the schooner in the distance.
It was past noon, and although the sunlight was bright, it held no warmth against his skin.
Jiang Huan sighed and turned back toward the hut.
Since he couldn't escape, he had to familiarize himself with this place first and see if there were any clues to save his life...
Just as he turned and took his first step.
A shout suddenly came from behind him.
He heard someone calling his name.
Jiang Huan's body froze instantly.
His pupils suddenly contracted to the size of pinheads.
Rate on N.U.
