Year 1349 of the Future timeline.
Klein sat at the bow of the Future, watching as the ship's prow split through the deep-blue sea, sending foaming waves crashing against the hull, spray occasionally bursting up onto the deck.
It had to be said—the ghost ship of a pirate admiral truly lived up to its reputation. Its speed far surpassed that of any steam vessel. So much for technology—nothing could compete with the extraordinary.
Thunk, thunk, thunk!
A flurry of hurried footsteps came from behind. A burly man in his thirties, dressed in suspenders and a white shirt, came jogging over, arms full of bizarrely shaped, brightly colored mushrooms. His face was glowing with excitement.
"Gehrman! I went to your room just now and didn't find you—turns out you're up so early!"
The sight of that pile of mushrooms made Klein's stomach clench. His brows furrowed instantly into a 川-shaped crease. This was Frank Lee, first mate of the Future. A decent man overall—if not for one fatal flaw:
The only problem was…his ideas were too unconventional. He loved using his biologist's abilities to create all sorts of bizarre mushrooms, ones that never failed to shock Klein's worldview—
Especially yesterday—the mushrooms that spread all over the ship and continuously sprayed milk…That memory would haunt him forever.
Frank said eagerly, "Last night, with your inspiration, I developed a new species—this one tastes like chicken! It's a mushroom crossbred with fish, but after roasting or frying, it tastes just like roast chicken or fried chicken.
"And this one—tomato-flavoured mushrooms! Toss some in when stewing lamb, and you get the sweet acidity of tomatoes, paired with the umami of mushrooms. And there's also—"
Klein cut him off flatly, face expressionless, "Frank, I need to correct you. I did not inspire you. I merely…made a casual remark."
"Impossible!"
"I can testify to that."
A hoarse voice drifted from a nearby patch of shadow. The darkness solidified into the form of a tall, sickly man: Heath Doyle, second mate of the Future.
He cast Frank a weary glance. "Frank, the mushrooms you gave us yesterday are enough to feed us for a long time. You really don't need to rush into another round. At this point, everyone's starting to avoid you."
Frank looked crestfallen.
Klein hesitated, then relented, unwilling to crush the man's pure enthusiasm completely. "Frank, what if there were monsters whose bodies contained lethal toxins and pollution? Could you invent a kind of mushroom that, after absorbing their flesh and blood, turned into edible food—without retaining the toxins or corruption?"
This was something Klein had pondered since Little Sun Derrick's plea beneath the temple:
In the City of Silver, the citizens had subsisted for centuries on nothing but foul-tasting black-faced grass. The result was tragic: they were forced to personally execute their dead loved ones, lest the corpses transform into monsters.
With Edward's suitcase, the Tarot Club could now smuggle food in from the outside. But food in this era was not as abundant as one might think. To feed the entire population of the City of Silver this way was unrealistic.
If Frank could truly invent mushrooms that consumed monster flesh and transmuted it into safe, edible food—then the food crisis of the City of Silver could be solved in one stroke.
Frank's eyes lit up instantly. Muttering to himself, already lost in speculation, he spun around and dashed back to the cabin.
Heath Doyle's pale face twisted in concern. "Oh, Mr. Sparrow… I only hope your suggestion doesn't lead to something dreadful."
Klein's reply was calm, "Frank can never sit still anyway. This makes no difference."
Just then, a prayer resounded in his ears.
"I need to visit the washroom."
Leaving only those words, he hurried back into his cabin's bathroom and, reversing the four steps, ascended into the Sefirah Castle.
In the depths of the grey fog, the crimson star representing Miss Justice was pulsating, expanding and contracting. Klein extended his spirituality, and Audrey's blurred figure appeared:
"Respected Mr. Fool, I wish to meet Mr. World in person. Could you pass this request along to him?"
Klein was briefly startled.
"Miss Justice wants to see me? Why? Is it…about Edward again?"
He glanced at the crimson stars that represented Edward and Lilith. Both remained intact.
Sigh…where exactly did he go? Not even above the grey fog can I divine anything about him.
After a pause, Klein replied coolly, "Very well."
But then a frown tugged at his lips.
I'm still at sea. How can I meet her? I'll probably have to wait until I advance to Sequence 5 before I can return to Backlund.
——
Wooooh!!!
Just as he left the grey fog, a long horn rang out across the Future.
Klein's heart tightened. His hand instinctively brushed the revolver under his armpit as he strode out quickly—he knew this sound. It was the "alarm" signal: the ship had encountered another pirate vessel.
Sure enough, a massive sailing ship was visible on the distant horizon.
Cattleya strode from the cabin, stepping on starlight as she ascended to the Future's highest point. She raised her telescope, scanning the horizon.
After half a minute, she leapt lightly back down, her expression calm. "Relax. They're not enemies. Bring us closer."
Her words carried weight. The crew quickly relaxed, scattering back to their posts.
Klein stepped closer and asked, "Who is it?"
"The last pirate admiral you've never met."
"Vice Admiral Iceberg?"
"Mhm."
Cattleya nodded, her eyes fixed on the ship drawing nearer. "Vice Admiral Iceberg, Edwina Edwards. I can't say I know her well, but we're not enemies either."
Klein quietly exhaled in relief.
Ten minutes later, a ship came fully into view: several dozen meters long, sails gleaming in golden sunlight, its hull spotless and orderly—nothing like a pirate ship at all.
A beautiful woman in a beige waist-fitted coat over a dark knee-length skirt and leather boots walked to the edge of the deck, men gathered deferentially around her. Then, with effortless grace, she leapt across and landed lightly on the Future's deck.
Eh?
Klein froze when his eyes caught on one particular face among the entourage—a handsome young man whose blood-red irises made him instantly recognisable.
That's…Emlyn White, the "Moon" of the Tarot Club?!
Why in the world was he aboard the Vice Admiral Iceberg's ship?
Worse, he looked in rough shape, like someone who had recently suffered through torment. Don't tell me he was captured during one of her raids…?
Damn it, am I supposed to find a way to rescue him?
"Good morning, Admiral of Stars."
Edwina pressed a hand lightly against her chest, bowing in greeting.
"Good morning," Cattleya replied with polite brevity before asking, "What brings you here?"
"In fact, I'm not here for you."
Edwina's clear, spring-water-blue eyes swept over the crew until they settled firmly. "I heard Gehrman Sparrow is aboard your ship. He is the one I came to see."
"Hm?"
Cattleya blinked, startled. She turned to Klein, who wore the same look of puzzlement.
"This is Mr. Gehrman Sparrow," she introduced.
Klein kept his persona steady, gaze cool as he asked flatly, "What business do you have with me?"
Edwina studied his face for more than ten seconds before speaking. "You are not the Gehrman Sparrow I know."
"…"
What the hell?! Why does everyone see through me in a single glance? Sure, I don't look the same, but doesn't the entire sea know I can change my face at will?
Though he was inwardly cursing, Klein's expression didn't so much as twitch. He offered no rebuttal, simply returning her gaze with calm detachment.
A moment later, Edwina shook her head.
"Since you're not him, then I've nothing further to say."
Cattleya's brows furrowed tightly. "Why do you claim he isn't the Gehrman Sparrow you knew? Are you suggesting there's another Gehrman out there?"
Her nerves were taut. She had only just received a mission from the Queen to deliver Gehrman Sparrow to Emerald City. If she accidentally brought the wrong man…the consequences would be dire.
Edwina hesitated. "I can't explain it clearly. But I know this much: the man aboard your ship is not the one I knew."
Feeling the weight of both women's gazes, Klein realised he couldn't keep up the pretence. After all, the Faceless potion was fully digested—exposure wouldn't harm him much anymore.
So, in a low voice, he admitted, "Gehrman Sparrow is a shared identity. The previous Gehrman and I are not the same person."
He pressed further, eyes locked on Edwina. "You know who the previous one really was, don't you?"
"That's right."
Klein declared decisively, "I am a friend of Edward's."
Then, after a beat, he added for Cattleya's benefit, "And likewise, a friend of Queen Mystic. Otherwise, how could I dare accompany you to seek her out?"
Cattleya nodded slowly. That much was indeed reasonable.
Edwina asked, "Do you know where Edward has gone? He vanished suddenly some time ago—I haven't been able to contact him since."
"I don't know. I'm looking for him as well. But I can assure you this: at least for now, he's safe."
"…I see."
"What business did you have with Edward?"
"I promised him I would retrieve something from Lenburg. I've found it now, and intended to deliver it to him."
"What is it?"
"Apologies. I cannot say."
"…Fine."
Edwina's gaze shifted to Cattleya. "You're bound for Queen Mystic, aren't you?"
Cattleya hesitated for several seconds before giving a nod.
"Please wait."
Edwina turned and leapt back to the Golden Dream. The crew immediately swarmed her with questions about the man she'd just spoken with, but she gave no answer. She strode straight into her captain's cabin, retrieved a long, slender case, and returned to the Future.
"Please deliver this to Queen Mystic. It belonged to her—it was found in my family's estate in Lenburg."
She didn't caution Cattleya not to open it. Instead, she dipped her head once more.
"Thank you."
Then she turned as if to depart.
"Wait."
Klein couldn't help himself. "Vice-Admiral Iceberg, that vampire on your ship—was he taken prisoner in one of your raids?"
Almost immediately, a weak but defiant voice rang out:
"I am a Sanguine!!! Blegh—"
It was Emlyn White.
———
Backlund.
Inside the grand villa of Earl Hall.
Not long after her prayer, Audrey's vision was engulfed by boundless grey fog. The image of The World emerged, his characteristic voice echoing:
"I am at sea. It will take two to three weeks before I return to Backlund. Can you tell me what this is about first?"
Moments later, the grey fog receded. Audrey shook her head, muttering to herself:
"Of course not…I was planning to impersonate a fellow 'compatriot' to claim kinship with you!"
Sigh…Two or three weeks. That's far too long.
Should I just ride my broomstick all the way and go find him directly?
———
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