Duncan felt that he would probably never forget this scene for the rest of his life—on the bizarre and dangerous endless sea, a magnificent coffin rose and fell with the waves, while a gothic doll driven by a mysterious force stood in the coffin, holding a huge coffin lid in both hands, riding the wind and waves…

And she didn't seem very happy.

No matter how you looked at it, this was too evil, so that for a while Duncan didn't even know whether to be surprised that the cursed doll was actually moving, or to be shocked by her aura of wielding the coffin lid to overturn the sea. He only felt that this scene was too contrary to his initial imagination—he had imagined several times how the other party would return to the ship, but he had never thought of… such a scene.

In the moment that Duncan was stunned, the doll had already arrived near the stern of the Vanishing Sail.

Although the tool she used was a coffin lid, her paddling speed was astonishingly fast, and she had an unusual agility and strength. Duncan carefully poked his head out of the observation port and saw the doll throw the coffin lid into the coffin, then reached out and grabbed a protruding piece of wood at the stern of the ship, and began to climb up quickly—flexible and swift as if invisible ropes were pulling her upward, and the seemingly heavy wooden box floated directly from the sea in a bizarre way, floating beside the doll as if it had lost its weight.

Duncan quickly pulled his head back before the doll noticed him.

The doll obviously didn't notice that the captain of this ghost ship had been secretly observing. She climbed up the towering stern of the Vanishing Sail almost in the blink of an eye, jumped onto the deck with a flip, then waved her finger in the air, so that the coffin floating beside her landed steadily at her feet. Then she turned her head around, seemingly observing the situation near the deck, and after confirming that there was no one around, she quickly tidied up her slightly damp skirt and began to climb into the coffin with both hands and feet.

Halfway through the climb, she was blocked by a pirate sword that suddenly appeared from the side—followed by the click of a flintlock hammer being raised.

The doll's movements froze instantly. She tried to turn her head, but saw a ghost captain wrapped in green flames standing beside her, staring at her coldly. The voice, as if coming from the depths of the spirit world, was cold and deep: "Oh, I caught you, doll."

In front of Duncan, the doll visibly trembled. She seemed frightened and wanted to instinctively dodge to the side, but in her panic, her movements were a little out of shape. Her upper body swayed, and Duncan heard a crisp "click" sound coming from the position of her shoulder and neck.

Then her head fell off…

In front of Duncan, a beautiful head fell from the doll's body, and long silver hair spread out in the sea breeze, wrapping around the head as it rolled to his feet—the doll's body still maintained the posture of preparing to escape next to the coffin, one hand grasping vaguely in mid-air, but the head stared helplessly at Duncan, her mouth opening and closing: "Help… help… help…"

It's no exaggeration to say that Duncan's heart stopped beating at this moment—although he doubted whether his heart still existed when he was burned by the ghost flames, the scene of watching the doll's head fall still caused him a real shock. However, the raging ghost flames concealed his horrified expression at the moment, and his momentary hesitation under shock was taken by the doll as some kind of indifferent treatment, so that Miss Doll didn't even realize that this terrible Captain Duncan seemed even more nervous than herself, and just kept repeating: "Help… help… my head… fell off…"

Duncan finally reacted. He soothed his little heart, which was currently existing in his imagination, and tried his best to control his movements and voice. He observed the doll with the greatest calm and composure for a while, and confirmed that this "cursed doll," despite having all kinds of weirdness, seemed… more afraid of himself, this "ghost captain," than of her own weird essence.

Instantly understanding this fact, Duncan realized that he must maintain this calmness.

He didn't understand this world, let alone this cursed doll, and before he could completely control the situation, the identity of "terrible Captain Duncan" was his greatest reliance to ensure his safety.

On the other hand, he couldn't just leave the doll in front of him alone—although the development of things didn't quite match his initial expectations, from the results, this doll could still communicate with him after all.

He put away the flintlock gun, and continued to hold the sword in his other hand—at close range, the flintlock gun with only one shot opportunity was obviously not as reliable as a knife, not to mention that his hastily practiced marksmanship was far from making him a skilled shooter—then he used his free hand to pick up the doll's head that had fallen on the ground.

This feeling was very strange. Although he knew that the other party was just a cursed doll, the feeling of reaching out and grabbing a "head" still made Duncan feel a little uneasy, and the slight warmth coming from this head almost made him want to throw it away.

Too evil and weird.

But he finally restrained the strange feelings from his heart and calmly looked at the head: "Shall I help you put it back?"

"My… my… my…"

"Okay, you do it yourself." Duncan nodded and casually handed the head to the doll's hands, which were grasping randomly in mid-air.

Then he saw those hands catch her head with extreme skill and dexterity, and smoothed out the silver hair that was a little messy, and adjusted the angle, and put the head on the neck—accompanied by a crisp click, the ball joints fit perfectly.

The whole process was smooth and flowing, obviously not the first time she had done this.

Then the doll's somewhat stiff face quickly became lively. She blinked and breathed a sigh of relief: "Phew… I'm alive."

Duncan: "…"

No matter how he looked at it, he felt that he should complain, but thinking about his "Captain Duncan" persona and the unknown details of the doll in front of him, he finally just nodded expressionlessly to the doll: "Very good, now you come with me—you have come to my ship several times, we need to talk."

As he spoke, he dissipated the ghost flames wrapped around his body and returned to his original appearance.

Actively transforming into a "spiritual form" was the power he had mastered after grasping the Vanishing Sail's helm, but after all, it was something he had come into contact with in a hurry, and he was far from being proficient now, let alone using this power in any way. Apart from being able to sail the ship, he didn't even know what other functions this thing had—releasing it just now was actually just to create a strong image in front of the weird cursed doll, and to boost his own momentum.

Now that the image had been established and the doll was very cooperative, there was no need to continue maintaining the flames and consuming energy.

The cursed doll obediently stood up from beside the coffin, and then was surprised to see Duncan's process of returning to human form. She was dumbfounded: "You… you're not a ghost?"

Duncan glanced at her indifferently: "When necessary, I can be."

The doll raised a hand to support her head, and there seemed to be some awe in her eyes.

Duncan didn't know what this guy was in awe of, but he could see that her head still didn't seem very secure—it might have almost fallen off again just now.

He turned and walked towards the captain's cabin, and through his real-time connection with the Vanishing Sail, he could feel that the doll had also honestly followed after hesitating for a second or two.

As expected, the gorgeous and strange "coffin" also floated closely behind the doll. She seemed to have to take it with her wherever she went.

A moment later, Duncan brought the cursed doll to the captain's cabin.

Under the faint gaze of the wooden goat head, the ghost captain and the cursed doll sat opposite each other across the navigation table. Duncan sat in his dark high-backed chair, while the doll opposite him used the coffin-like wooden box as a chair, sitting elegantly and dignified on top of the wooden box.

She was indeed elegant and dignified. When she sat down, kept quiet, when her silver hair was scattered and she was wearing a gothic dress while sitting on the wooden box, she was so dignified and beautiful that she seemed like a work of art that should be placed in a palace, guarded by soldiers.

Unfortunately, as soon as Duncan saw her, he would think of Miss Doll's process of riding the wind and waves and acting separately just now…

He sighed, resumed his cold and majestic appearance, and looked into Miss Doll's eyes: "Name?"

"Alice."

"Race?"

"Doll."

"Occupation?"

"Doll… why are you asking these?"

Duncan thought for a while: "To get some basic understanding."