Captain – Chapter 485 – Haunted

The cat was gone, leaving only the lifeless pages.

Faced with the devil’s questioning, cold mockery, and eventually undisguised threats, it never spoke, never replied a single word, not even a symbolic explanation.

As if the meeting with that young man long ago and these thousand long years meant nothing to the cat.

More detached than gods, more heartless than devils.

This is fate.

Like sinking in the lightless sea bottom, drifting with the currents, countless images came from afar, surrounding the weary-eyed cat. What they depicted were invariably scenes of Roy and her companion.

Yet in those images, there were mostly only landscapes, objects, and familiar faces, without the key pair of man and woman. It was like a stage fully prepared but waiting in vain for its protagonists.

These were the missed pages, and their final outcomes were probably not much different from the previous page.

This dream was silently perishing. If the young lady couldn’t awaken before it completely returned to nothingness, becoming that world of pure darkness again, all efforts would be in vain.

The Siamese cat tilted its head slightly, its beautiful blue eyes flickering faintly. The images began surging past faster, until finally, they almost became a pure streak of light, indistinguishable to the human eye. Time elapsed second by second in this tedious process.

Perhaps seconds, perhaps years—who knows how much dream time had slipped away—the image finally froze.

“Meow.”

Looking at the wooden table in the image covered with wine bottles, and the man and woman sitting opposite each other, unable to see or touch each other, the cat called out weakly, as if encouraging itself not to give up.

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After all, this might need to be repeated dozens more times. How could one not be optimistic?

After reassuring itself, the cat leaped out of that illusory dark world and into a tavern filled with the smell of alcohol and perfume, landing nimbly on the small available space on the wooden table.

“Meow.”

Awakening the young man who was gazing longingly at “thin air,” the cat mustered its energy and asked how things were going.

“You’re here.”

The First Mate was slightly startled, only now noticing the disheveled Siamese cat sitting among the wine bottles. He stroked its fur gently, explaining the situation in the simplest terms.

Since leaving the attic, this was the third time he had caught up with the sound of the pocket watch.

The first time was when they had just recruited the crew and set sail, during the so-called dance after training. The second time was during the encounter with the Victoria, but unfortunately, the scholar there seemed unable to understand his situation, dismissing the First Mate’s words as delirium.

And now this time, at the Banshee’s Eye, before the storm.

“If I remember correctly, the Captain got very drunk today and made quite a scene.”

Recalling how after this drinking session, the Captain returned to her bedroom, clinging to him like an octopus, asking if he wanted her, Caine’s expression became somewhat unnatural. Even though they had experienced so much together, such important moments, like a first kiss, still made his heart race involuntarily.

“Meow.”

Through the complex pages, the cat was thoroughly familiar with that play of “the coward and the little drunk,” and had even seen storylines without human figures that revealed other outcomes.

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Those… fiery passionate storylines.

But even so, it had no interest in this at all, directly pulling the young man away from his fantasy.

“You asked about progress? There has been some, but not with great effect.”

Seeing the cat ask about his progress, Caine’s expression immediately became much more dejected. Although thanks to the cat’s guidance, he knew that what he could influence most were the scenes where their bond was deepest.

But the problem was, many times when he found the young lady, there was no violin to play like this.

He couldn’t dance with her, nor could he take the dragon egg she brought from the Victoria. He could only helplessly “watch” as the pocket watch sound faded away, or make attempts without knowing if they were useful.

Like drinking the wine from the table earlier.

The cat’s ears drooped slightly, expressing no opinion on this, clearly having no solution either. It just slowly turned around, looked across the table, and then sighed in frustration.

“Meow.”

It did work, but this time… she obviously thought it was a ghost.

What was going on?

Looking at the empty wine bottle in her hand, Roy’s eye twitched slightly. She felt she was truly being haunted lately. Last time, while carrying the dragon egg back, she was mysteriously tripped by a rope, nearly falling and shattering the egg. Now even rum could vanish into thin air?

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“Perhaps, I’m saying perhaps, you’ve already drunk that bottle.”

Hearing the devil’s unreliable conjecture, Roy rolled her eyes at the air, saying irritably: “My memory isn’t that bad. Ancestor, you’re not deliberately messing with me, are you?”

“Maybe.”

Another answer of indeterminate truth, accompanied by a light laugh.

Slamming the bottle heavily on the table, Roy folded her arms and leaned back in her chair, frowning as she pondered, no longer interested in reenacting that scene. Anyone would feel the same if they drank without getting the slightest bit drunk, while being constantly “robbed” of their alcohol by some possibly non-existent ghost.

Recalling the various scenes that had unfolded along the way, the young lady quickly dismissed her previous conjecture, feeling that although the devil was malicious, he wouldn’t be so dull, and besides, he couldn’t currently influence the dream.

So what were these strange occurrences about? Could there really be ghosts?

No, not to mention that ghosts weren’t so mysterious—in this grand dream, before her already “awakened” self, those bizarre things born of resentment or curses were completely exposed.

So what was causing this…

The more she thought, the more chaotic her thoughts became. Although the devil or ghost mischief wasn’t possible, she still felt as if someone was shadowing her, invisibly influencing the surrounding environment.

The problem was, this was her dream. If even the devil couldn’t influence it, who would have the ability to deceive her?

Placing her legs on the table surface, rocking back and forth in her chair, Roy finally couldn’t figure it out and had to temporarily set aside these strange occurrences. She took out the pocket watch to check.

To look at that young man she could never remember, and to see… how much time she had left.

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“Click, click…”

The second hand was still diligently moving, the hour hand not far from the junction of midnight and noon.

And that was the moment of the end.

Sighing softly, the Captain closed the pocket watch and returned it to her bosom, feeling inexplicably restless.

For some reason, since hearing the violin music in the attic, she had experienced obvious emotional fluctuations again. Although the assimilation process continued, the ice sealing her heart was melting.

She didn’t know if this was good or bad, or if it was another trick of the devil.

“Don’t worry, child. Time is pressing. So, where is our next stop?”

Taking her legs off the table, Roy pushed herself up and walked toward the tavern door, saying coolly: “No need for you to hurry me. And Ancestor, staying quiet is a virtue for an audience.”

“Indeed. Then I shall wait and see.”

The devil’s laughing words faded away as the Captain’s figure gradually disappeared. She didn’t choose to follow the timeline to that ambiguous bedroom to see. Since he wasn’t there, such a destination had no meaning.

Time was running out.

She needed to go as far as possible, all the way to the end.