The man in elegant clothes shuffled through the papers he was holding and pulled out a specific sheet.

  “It seems that the entire crew aboard the ship has undergone some form of supernatural phenomenon. All the people on board have either turned into skeletons — lacking flesh, organs, or any sign of life — or have become strange, dark grey fog-like creatures flying in the sky like clouds."

  "Their appearance, physical form, personality, and overall nature seem to have gone through major changes. From a bystander's perspective, they look like wisps of air cloaked in greyish-black hoods, floating mid air with no lower body."

  After pausing for a moment, he continued, "This is all I could figure out for now. Other than that, there's one more thing to add: communicating with these floating creatures is rather difficult. They don't speak like we do — instead, they use the surrounding air to create sounds. To anyone listening, it feels like someone is standing just beside them, whispering directly into their ears."

  As the man sitting in the chair, who had been patiently listening, thought the report was over, the man standing beside him moved on to the third point.

  "Other than these, there is also a third type of creature aboard the ship."

  "There’s more?"

  "Yes," he said, pausing briefly, "but don’t worry — this is the last one."

  He shifted the papers in his hands to the side and continued reading. "The third type, which seems to be the rarest, is a mixture between a skeleton and rotting flesh. They look like something between a human and a skeleton, like us."

  "Their flesh has rotted to the point where it has turned into a green, mushy substance. Many parts of their bodies are open, exposing skinless organs and visible bones. They seem to be in a state of transformation — somewhere between humans and living skeletons."

  "...This is everything I’ve discovered so far about the different mutations among the crew of the Black Crown. Although we don't fully understand the supernatural forces involved, one thing is certain: the beings outside are indeed the original crew of the Black Crown. They are not outsiders or unknown entities from the uncharted waters."

  "They are all part of the crew."

  This news brought relief to the captain, who had feared he might have to fight off all the creatures roaming his deck. With a sigh of relief, he asked about the current situation aboard the ship.

  "Most people — if it's okay to call them that — are trying to adjust to their new circumstances. The skeletons seem mostly normal: talking, chatting, and trying to recognize each other by voice and body language. The flying ones are a mixed group: some are trying to communicate but struggle, some have lost control of their bodies and are relearning everything like newborns, while others have adapted quickly and are enjoying the ability to fly."

  "Well, at least someone is having a good time," said the captain.

  "But the same can't be said for the third group. The half-rotted, half-skeleton ones are having a hard time adjusting to their new forms. Frankly, if I were in their shoes, I’d feel the same. It’s hard even for veteran pirates — who’ve seen their fair share of bloodshed — to look at half-rotten corpses. Now imagine seeing yourself like that in a mirror... I don't think I'd recover easily either."

  "At least being a full skeleton doesn’t sound that bad compared to that."

  "The way you describe it, even I wouldn’t recover from something like that. Now that I think about it, being a pure skeleton isn’t the worst fate."

  Demono gave a slight nod in confirmation. The captain continued, "Give those poor souls some time and space. Don’t bother them too much, and console them however you can."

  With that, the topic they were discussing came to an end. But before they could move on to other matters, something changed.

  The captain sitting in the chair felt a strange premonition. He couldn't explain it, but he instinctively knew that an unknown ship had entered the fog surrounding the Black Crown shortly after his awakening.

  Stolen story; please report.

  He couldn’t just ignore the feeling. Somehow, he was certain — so certain that he didn’t even question it.

  Calmly, he looked up at Demono and said, in a composed voice, "A vessel of unknown origin has entered the waters around the Black Crown. We don't know who’s aboard or what faction they belong to, but just in case we must engage, prepare the combatants who are ready to fight."

  The ship sailing near the southern seas had unknowingly entered a thick, greyish fog.

  "Captain, something’s wrong," said the boy who had been eating a biscuit earlier.

  "What are you talking about?" asked the man wearing a large hat.

  "The fog, sir. It’s too thick, and its color... it’s strange."

  "So what? Does that have anything to do with our search?"

  "No... I was just suggesting we stop and wait until dawn. It’d be easier to see."

  "No. We’re heading in. We’re not so close to the uncharted waters that we need to be this cautious. Now, do your job."

  "Okay," said the boy, moving closer to the railing, peering into the fog, trying to spot anything on the other side.

  Then, a faint shadow slowly came into view.

  It was a large ship — much larger than theirs. It had more than five floors below the main deck. Its bow and stern were raised high, making the ship look tall from both ends while narrower in the middle. The entire ship was made of rare, black wood — an expensive material not easily found.

  There was only one ship in all the Four Seas that matched that description.

  The Black Crown.

  "Captain!" the boy shouted with all his might, pointing toward the shadow.

  Everyone turned to where he pointed. No one needed an explanation. The dazed expressions on their faces said it all.

  The captain reacted first. He pulled a telescope from his belt and looked straight up — searching for the flag.

  The skull crowned with a king’s crown, waving on a black background, confirmed everything.

  With heavy breathing, he muttered to himself, "Found it."

  "Prepare to board the ship," he shouted. His voice rang through the hearts of every man aboard.

  Their ship carefully approached the Black Crown. The difference in size was obvious: even after raising their plank, they could barely reach the fourth floor below the deck.

  And their ship was no small vessel either — the Black Crown was simply that colossal.

  "As expected of the ship built by the combined revolutionary forces," said the bald man standing beside the captain.

  "Should we really board?" he asked, leaning toward the captain.

  "Why not?" the captain answered calmly.

  "Well, boarding a taller ship is risky. Those above have the advantage."

  The captain almost gave him a glare as if saying You think I wouldn’t know that? But he kept his composure and answered instead.

  "How long do you think this ship has been sitting here?"

  The bald man didn’t answer.

  "The nearest harbor that welcomes pirates is thousands of nautical miles away. Do you think anyone could survive out here without supplies? It's not easy to hide a ship this big near any settlement either."

  "It’s clear this ship has been abandoned for a long time. I highly doubt anyone alive remains aboard."

  "I understand," said the bald man.

  "It looks like the plank won’t work — we’ll have to climb with ropes."

  "Alright. Hey! You all heard the captain! Bring out the ropes and climb up. Most of you will come aboard, but some must stay and guard the ship."

  The boy who had first spotted the Black Crown shouted, "Take me! I want to come!"

  But being a new recruit of just six months, he was left behind to guard the ship.

  The ropes were thrown and hooked onto the Black Crown’s deck. One by one, the pirates climbed aboard, their captain following closely behind.

  Those left behind could only watch and wait, hoping they’d get their turn once the main group returned with treasures.

  The boy, filled with a mix of envy and regret, watched the last figure vanish from view.

  Meanwhile, the group that boarded the Black Crown remained vigilant, as seasoned sailors should.

  The ship, though aged, still radiated an aura of pirate royalty. It was a floating treasure — a ship of myth now within their grasp.

  The captain moved to address his men.

  "I know you’ve all waited for this moment," he said. "We’ve spent years chasing this dream. Now we’re here. Just a little longer, and the treasures of this ship will be ours."

  "But don’t forget — survival comes first. This ship may still hold unknown dangers. Be wary of traps."

  As he spoke, skeletal hands silently pressed against the floorboards beneath them.

  Countless hollow eyes watched them from below decks, behind railings, and from the raised platforms.

  The boarding party split into groups of two or three, a necessary precaution to ensure no one was left alone.

  The captain, cautious but determined, made his way toward the captain's cabin, the most valuable part of any ship.

  Suddenly, a voice cried out, "Captain! There are bodies here!"

  The captain turned toward the source — another voice shouted from the left, "Captain! Here too! They’ve all turned to bones... seems they’ve been here for a long time."

  The more they searched, the more skeletons they found. Doubts grew stronger: perhaps no one living remained aboard.

  Some crew members tried to open doors leading below deck, making noise in the process — until the bald man with the long beard sharply shouted,

  "Be quiet!"

  In the foggy silence, the sound of slow footsteps echoed across the deck.

  The door to the captain’s cabin swung open.

  Out stepped a figure clad entirely in black — black hat, black coat — cloaked in darkness.

  On his face was a black mask with two hollow eye holes, though no eyes could be seen within.

  The figure moved forward, placed his right hand on the railing overlooking the main deck, and spoke with a calm, almost gentle voice:

  "Welcome. What business might you have on my ship?"