Chapter 293. Dipp

Charles was well aware that the Foundation conducted human experiments, but he was taken aback by the sheer number of skeletons here.

It hadn't taken more than a few seconds for the ghastly white bones to float out of the cargo hold and eerily glide past Charles like schools of fishes.

Being in a decrepit sunken ship in the gloomy depths of the water and surrounded by countless human remains sent a chilling sensation down Charles' spine.

Feuerbach was hiding near the distant exit and was forcefully tugging at Charles' oxygen tube in a desperate attempt to get him to leave the cargo hold area.

However, Charles turned around, and with a swift pull on the tube, he dragged Feuerbach over right into the midst of the skeletal remains.

He gestured to his Second Mate to wait before he brushed aside the skeletons in front of him and ventured deeper into the cargo hold.

Honestly speaking, he wasn't afraid of ghosts or spirits in the sea. In his perspective, animated bones would at least be more comforting than encountering bizarre and unknown monsters. At least, those bones and he were of the same species.

Navigating swiftly through the bones, which seemed to swarm around him like fish, Charles searched for clues.

But much to his disappointment, the cargo hold that was similar to those that stored giant containers recorded no information of what had transpired.

Perhaps there had been documentation, but the time and water had washed them all away.

Charles did a quick search before he turned his gaze onto the white bones.

With the presence of new entities, the long undisturbed waters were stirred once again, and the previously complete skeletons gradually disintegrated into individual bones.

They had remained intact only because there was no new introduction into their existing ecosystem to disturb them.

Charles reached out a hand and grabbed the nearest bone. He studied it closely and discerned it to be a hip bone. He then examined a few more and concluded that there was a fair mix of men and women back then. Also, there weren't any children's remains.

Suddenly, something floating on a shin bone caught his attention. It seemed to resemble a bracelet. Despite having been severely corroded by the seawater, he was certain that it was clearly metallic.

With a snap, Charles broke the object into two pieces to reveal a green chip embedded within. It was an electronic device.

He flipped the bracelet over to be greeted with a series of numbers.

134414

Those were the Arabic numerals inscribed on the bracelet. Charles looked around once more, and after a meticulous examination, he realized that almost every skeleton had a similar tag. The presence of these bracelets suggested that they were used to identify cargo.

He then picked up another and read the numbers. 134945. It was a different series of numbers, but the 134 prefix was consistent.

How many goods were there? If there are six digits...Were they trying to transport tens of thousands of people to Hope Island? What is the Foundation trying to do with so many people? What kind of experiment requires such a vast number of people?

It was a chilling thought that Charles wanted to dismiss—what kind of person would use hundreds of thousands of their own kind for experiments?

However, the recent event on the Albion Isles had taught him not to overestimate the depths of human morality.

Seeing the skeletons around him, a pang of sorrow hit Charles. His emotions didn't stem solely from the lost human lives on the ship but also from the thousands of similar cargo ships that had been sailing the seas in the past era.

He remained motionless in a brief moment of silence amidst all the floating bones before he tossed the bone he was holding and made his way back to where he had come from.

Exploring the shipwreck was just a small part of the trial run for the Narwhale, and they would need to continue with the trial. If there was anything that this exploration had influenced, it was probably the slight dip in Charles' spirits.

As the crew fully adapted to the refitted ship, the Narwhale slowly entered the docks, marking the end of her trial run.

At this point, Charles had also placed his emotions aside. No matter what atrocities had occurred then, they were a thing of the past, a thing of the previous era, and were no longer relevant.

"Chief Engineer, prepare the fuel. Sailors, assist the cook with stocking the food supply. First Mate, plot the course. Get moving," Charles instructed. His crew immediately sprang into action. They knew that their next voyage would be happening soon.

Charles stood at the docks, and a group of people slowly started to gather around him. They were the ship designers from the Albion Isles.

He noted the longing in their eyes and let out a soft sigh. He carefully pondered over his words before he said, "If any of you wish to stay, I'm willing to hire you at a high salary."

Upon hearing Charles' words, the crowd instantly thought that Charles was trying to break his promise. Impassioned shouts erupted, and the people were not even the least deterred by the navy officers cocking their guns nearby.

"What do you mean by that?! You promised us!" one of them shouted.

"You think you've won? Our great Governor Swann won't let you get away with this!" another echoed the same sentiment.

"How can such a person who doesn't keep his word deserves to be a governor? What a disgrace to the title!" a third person chimed in.

"Everyone!" Charles' hollered, his voice cutting through the cacophony. "I never said anything about not letting you leave. But a huge incident had happened on the Albion Isles, and if you were to go now, you might not be able to make it out alive."

"No matter what happened, that is our home! We want to go home!"

"Yes, he's right! We want to go home!"

"You promised us then! That you'd let us leave once we finished building the ship!"

Noting the firm determination in their tone, Charles let out another sigh. He gestured to Feuerbach, who was standing nearby.

"Round up a few ships and take them to the outskirts of the Albion Isles. If they still choose death after seeing the situation, there's no need to stop them. But if anyone changes their mind, bring them back. Their skills are invaluable for our island's development," Charles instructed.

"Understood," Feuerbach said with an affirmative nod. He then stepped forward to address the crowd. "Those who want to go home, follow me! Hurry up! I won't wait for stragglers; I still have to return soon to join the captain on his next voyage!"

The crowd's face lit up with excitement upon hearing Feuerbach's words. They were going home. Soon enough, the Narwhale was well-loaded with supplies, and the designers boarded a smaller vessel. Under the watchful gazes of those at Hope Island's dock, two ships, one large and one small, set sail side by side and departed the island.

***

In the inky dark waters, a sharp stone awl was scratching a smooth rock.

Today is my 3rd munth in Iharis Deep. I don't relly like the ways they do things here.

They liv forver and don't want much stuff. They do weird things to wake up the Great One and try lots of stuff to have fun.

I can eat raw fish and join them in poking water buffalos with our nails. But some stuff they do is not nice, and I don't want to do it.

Will I be like them one day? It makes me scard.

I dream about when I was not under the water. I miss being on a ship with my frends a lot.

Dipp suddenly set down his awl. He felt a call that he knew all too well—it was time for another round of prayers.

He carefully placed the inscribed rock to the side. Moving his webbed feet, he swam toward the deepest part of the underwater city.

The Deep Dwellers living in the area had gathered at the very heart of the Iharis Deep. Thankfully, they were in the water, and space could be greatly utilized in all directions. Millions of Deep Dwellers gathered to form a massive sphere.

As Dipp approached the sphere, his gills fluttered slightly, and a peculiar emotion started to overwhelm his mind.

He joined his fellow tribesmen in slowly swimming toward the center. Right in the middle of the crowd was a pure gold statue of God Fhtagn, with several smaller statues surrounding it.

Apart from being crafted in gold, all the statues shared another similarity—they bore grotesque and terrifying features beyond human imagination.

A figure with an octopus head swam toward the statue and stopped in front of it. Two humans enveloped in bubbles were floating behind him.

With a pop, the octopus-headed figure pierced both bubbles with the golden staff in his hand. Instantly, crimson blood diffused into the water and further heightened the bizarre atmosphere to a climax.

His mouth parted to let out a strange, trembling sound. It was a song in a language without vowels.

The surrounding spherical choir of Deep Dwellers began to join the chant in unison. They closed their lizard-like eyes and sang the haunting melody.

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