Sifa felt that his gun's arm was cold, and he couldn't help but lift his hand and slap it on the wall.
Only then did he see that a chef's boning knife had scratched his arm and nailed the sleeve to the wooden wall of the cabin.
He hurriedly held the boning knife with his other hand, trying to pull it out, when a sharp sound rang in his ears.
Behind the fallen servant, a thin man wearing a chef's hat rushed over. The chef on this ship had been silent just now. He had been standing behind Jack and had not launched an attack — until now.
Under the light of the horse lantern, Sifa saw his bloodshot eyes, his distorted facial features, and his sharp white teeth — like a beast about to devour a man!
The chef jumped in front of Sifa.
Sifa's head became blank with a buzz, but his body reacted on its own. The hand holding the boning knife slammed hard, pulled the knife from the wooden wall, and directly hit the chef's face with the handle.
In the dull crash, Sifa saw the chef tilt his head back, his face blooming, and blood spurting out of his nose. But this did not make the chef retreat — it made him react in a frenzy.
The thin man, his chef's hat falling to the floor, jumped up, grabbing Sifa's shoulders and cheeks, forcing Sifa's neck to tilt and expose itself to his gaze.
He opened his mouth and bit like a mad dog. Sifa could smell the stench in his mouth, see the splashing foam, and glimpse the black depths of his esophagus.
Just as he was about to bite Sifa, the chef's movements suddenly stopped.
An eviscerator blade had stabbed up from his chin, through his mouth, and deep into his head.
The madness in the chef's eyes quickly faded, losing its lustre. His body hit Sifa under the force of inertia, and the two of them slipped and fell at the same time.
Sitting down on the ground, Sifa took a sharp breath. His stiff thinking began to move again.
He hurriedly pushed the chef's body away, looking at his blood-stained suit in amazement.
What's the matter with me?
I know that the original owner was a nobleman, trained in marksmanship and fighting. But whether it was shooting the male servant at close range or killing the chef with a boning knife — wasn't I too skilled?
Sifa held his forehead, pressing the sides of his head, and recalled the incident.
I was attacked twice, front and back. As someone who grew up in a stable society, I should have no idea how to deal with this. My brain went blank. But my body reacted on instinct. This aggression — so direct and efficient — can no longer be explained by training. It's like... the original owner was quite experienced in killing people!
Sifa couldn't connect a scummy noble with a killer. Before he could think further, he heard a splash and a familiar voice calling faintly:
"Help, I..."
A young man with a blond eagle nose flashed in his mind. Joyce! Had he fallen into the water?
Sifa quickly put away the revolver and ran out of the cabin.
The fighting on deck had ceased. No one was nearby. The deck was still burning in places. With the firelight, Sifa saw the sea beneath the ship — people floated in the water.
Sifa quickly took off his coat, kicked off his shoes, and jumped off the ship's rail.
He plunged into the cold water and swam toward the person who had fallen. As he got closer, he saw the soaked blond hair and pale face — it was Joyce.
Joyce saw him and cried out:
"Please help me! I have a cramp in my leg... Mr. Sifa, it's you!"
Sifa soothed him:
"Keep calm. I'm coming."
He swam behind Joyce, supported him under the armpits, and dragged him toward the ship using an anti-breaststroke method.
Finding a boarding ladder, he climbed up, pulling Joyce with him.
Back on deck, Sifa's legs felt weak. He sat down heavily.
Joyce gasped, then looked at Sifa with gratitude:
"Thank you so much, Mr. Sifa. I thought I was going to die in the sea."
Sifa waved a hand wearily.
Just then, cheers erupted from the upper deck, followed by a shout:
"Younis is dead! Younis King is dead! The captain ended him — we won!"
Younis, Sifa thought. That villain who threw a baby into the sea... who led the madmen, slaughtered so many...
His death meant everything.
Joyce, barely able to sit upright moments before, now lifted his head in joy.
"We won? God, the disaster is finally over!"
Afterwards, Sifa went back to the cabin, took a shower, changed into dry clothes, and fell asleep in bed.
When he woke up again, it was already dawn.
Sifa got up and dressed carefully. He put on a clean white shirt, buttoned it neatly, tied a dark blue bow tie, and donned a navy coat with golden buttons.
He then looked at the pair of leather shoes. After a moment of silence, he took a deep breath, sat down, and put them on.
During this process, his mind kept turning:
What happened last night?
Why did I suddenly come to this world?
Was it because of that mysterious email?
At home, his family didn't stop him from practicing the ritual.
He drew six-pointed stars, concentric circles, and 12 elemental symbols with a pencil. He read the strange incantation in front of the mirror — but nothing happened.
That's why he thought it was just a joke and deleted the email.
But now...
Sifa looked at the cabin floor, hesitated, then moved the furniture to clear a space.
He picked up a pencil, squatted down, and once again drew a six-pointed star, concentric circles, and 12 symbolic marks.
He lit candles at several key nodes, stood in the center of the ritual, and chanted in a low voice:
"The eyes that see everything."
"The god who overlooks everything."
"You are the master of knowledge. You mock destiny and time."
"You are the true witness, the uncrowned king above the stars!"
The ritual was no different at first — until Sifa noticed the curtains frozen in mid-flutter, the dust suspended in the air.
The colors of the world deepened, as if everything had turned into a painting.
Suddenly, a heavy book appeared in his hand.
The cover was dark and cold, engraved with an eye within a stable triangle.
Above it, there was a line of gold-lettered text:
Above the book, illusory hands full of strange symbols slowly withdrew into the void.
Just one glance at those symbols made Sifa feel a terror he couldn't describe — as if those were things that should never be seen.
He didn't dare look again.
He lowered his eyes to the book in his hand.
Around the eye within the triangle, seven blurry symbols floated.
One of them became clear: an open book surrounded by countless eyes.
Sifa's hands trembled. He opened the book's cover.
On the first page lay a black quill pen.
Sifa tried to pick up the quill pen. It felt impossibly light — so light it was as if he were holding nothing at all — yet there was no doubt it was real in his grasp.
Suddenly, his pupils contracted slightly.
The text on the first line of the paper had changed.
And now, far more content filled the page — content he hadn't seen the night before!
Collection: 1+
Record: Your adventure biography has attracted more than one collector's attention. You have met the conditions. It is now being released...