In a clearing just beyond the marshy forest, a campfire crackled to life.
The firewood glowed red as one log split in half with a sharp crack.
Germain arranged several wooden stumps around the fire to serve as makeshift seats and invited the man who called himself "Don Freecss" to join him.
"Thanks for the offer, but I can't sit with you all..." Don said quietly.
"Because you're worried we might be enemies?" Germain asked.
Don shook his head.
"You've misunderstood. It's not that I'm overly cautious of you. That kind of mindset is important on the Dark Continent... but that's not the reason."
"If I sit with you, it would mean I'm taking responsibility for something I shouldn't."
Don's body was wrapped completely in a black cloak, even his head was hidden under a hood, with only glimpses of his eyes, nose, and chin showing.
As he spoke more in the Six Continent language, his words became more fluent and natural.
Still, that last explanation of his—each word made sense, but together it just left everyone confused.
After declining Germain's offer, Don went and sat alone in the shadows, far from the fire and the rest of the group, keeping a distance of several dozen meters.
But compared to the more than 100 meters when they first met, this distance now might actually be a sign of "trust and closeness," right?
Ging finally saw the ancestor he'd been longing to meet, but he was surprisingly quiet.
He just kept watching Don with his sharp eyes, saying nothing, letting Don control the conversation.
Bisky and Shizuku had still been caught up in the excitement of harvesting the Nitro Rice plants.
When they saw the "Don Freecss" they'd been searching for suddenly appear, they were both stunned.
His arrival was just too unexpected.
Even so, while eyeing Don suspiciously, they kept working quickly and carefully to collect as many Nitro Rice plants as they could, storing them inside Blinky.
Don noticed how eagerly Blinky devoured the plants and gave a knowing look—some of his questions were clearly answered by what he saw.
Clearly, the swamp wasn't the best place to talk. The group had just finished a tough battle and badly needed rest.
After harvesting all 119 Nitro Rice plants, everyone moved together to the clearing and lit the campfire. One by one, they sat down in silence.
Was this a case of "loving the idea more than the reality"?
Germain glanced at Ging, then at Bisky. Strangely enough, not one of them said a word.
Normally, when it came to speculating about "Don," the two of them were never shy about speaking up.
But now, faced with someone who might actually be the real "Don," they both stayed completely silent.
The scene was… strange, to say the least.
"Germain, you can hear my thoughts, right?"
Ging's voice echoed directly in Germain's mind, though his face showed no change, and his eyes never left Don.
"I can hear you."
"Then ask him—how can he prove that he's Don Freecss?"
"I can… but why don't you ask him yourself?"
"I want to observe him a little longer… He showed up way too suddenly. I'm staying cautious about who he really is."
"Also, since you can hear 'thoughts,' he might have a similar ability. If we communicate too openly, we could end up at a disadvantage. Bisky probably thinks the same."
"With you, though, you should be able to talk to him on equal footing. Me, Bisky, and Shizuku… well, maybe not Shizuku… we're better off watching for now."
Through their mental link, Germain understood both Ging and Bisky's concerns.
They didn't know if this man really was Don.
They didn't know what kind of abilities he had.
They didn't know if he meant them harm.
There were just too many unknowns.
So, it made the most sense to let Germain handle the conversation for now.
Sitting on the tree stump, Germain leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, fingers laced together. He looked across the clearing, eyes fixed on the figure cloaked in shadow dozens of meters away.
"You claim to be Don Freecss. Do you have any proof to back that up?"
The man, completely covered in a black cloak, fell silent for a moment. Then he asked:
"Judging from your tone… this isn't the first time you've heard my name, is it?
Let me guess… 'Journey to the New World: East Coast Edition.'
You read that book, didn't you? That's how you know about me, right?"
"Yes, we've read that book before."
"Ah, brings back memories—"
Don let his voice stretch out suddenly, a hint of emotion flickering in it. From beneath his black cloak, he pulled out a book with an old, worn cover.
"I gave a copy of this to that group... must've been over three hundred years ago, huh?"
Ging's eyes widened slightly as he stared at the book in Don's hand. His heart was pounding.
Even without using Telepathic Voice, Germain could guess what Ging was thinking right now. He definitely wasn't as calm as he looked on the surface.
Don's gloved fingers gently brushed the book's cover. His voice sank so low it was almost a whisper, but somehow, everyone could hear it clearly.
"It's a strange coincidence, really. At that time, I had just finished traveling the eastern shore of Lake Möbius and completed this book — New World Chronicles: Eastern Shore Edition."
"I was planning to take a short break. But, just like today, I unexpectedly ran into a group of people from the Six Continents."
"They'd rushed into the Dark Continent without knowing a thing about it, and quickly fell into danger. I couldn't just watch... and, well, I had my own reasons. So I stepped in and saved them."
"They called themselves an unofficial expedition team. Grateful beyond words, they thanked me over and over. So I took the chance to ask them for a favor."
"I asked them to take a few copies of New World Chronicles: East Edition back to the Six Continents."
"One copy was for my family — the Freecss family, assuming there were still any of us alive by then."
"As for the rest, I asked them to spread and print them, so more people across the Six Continents would know about both the dangers and the beauty of the Dark Continent."
Don opened the book in his hands. A soft, red glow shone from between the pages, like the last rays of a dying sun.
He looked up and stared at everyone. The red light lit up the lower half of his face, revealing burn-like marks etched across his skin.
"You should have a copy too, right? Take it out. No matter how many times it's been copied—if the content came from this original, they'll resonate with each other."
Germain turned his head toward Shizuku and gave her a small nod.
With that signal, Shizuku conjured Blinky and stuck her left hand deep into its gaping mouth, like Doraemon reaching into a four-dimensional pouch.
After rummaging around for a bit, she pulled out a copy of the New World Chronicles: East Edition — though it was only a partial copy.
Not long after it was taken out, that "New World Chronicle: East Edition – Incomplete Copy" still emitted a red glow from between the pages, even after being closed—just like the "original version" in Ging's hands.
The "original" and the "copy" were clearly resonating with each other.
"It looks like the one you have isn't complete."
"But that makes sense. Probably the work of the 'Gatekeepers,' right? They wouldn't allow the full version to spread, so they deliberately removed part of it."
"Still, this should be enough to prove my identity, no?"
Only now did the group begin to understand why the East Edition was considered incomplete.
Even with the power of nations like V5, they couldn't recover every copy of the East Coast manuscript—or prevent the fragments that escaped from being scattered and fragmented.
Because, from the very beginning, the full version never made it back to the Six Continents.
Some information missing from the incomplete texts—like the truth behind "Disasters and Hope"—was likely preserved and secretly passed down by the members of the original expedition who had brought back these rubbings.
Just as Ging had said before—this is the true value of "historical texts," "ruins," and "relics."
Even if the content is obscured or distorted over time, its core meaning can still inspire those who uncover it.
*******
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