Shrouded Seascape

Chapter 433: Feuerbach

December 6th, 13th Year of Crossing Over

The Narwhale is making its way back to the island. The journey had its turmoil, with two unidentified creatures emerging from the waters and climbing aboard to cause some chaos. Aside from that, our return trip was normal.

The familiar nautical markings had already come into view; we are close to Hope Island now. However, I'm mainly worried about Feuerbach.

He still hadn't woken up from his coma. Though I know not much about medicine, I know this isn't a good sign.

Apart from him, we've suffered considerable losses in this voyage. Three deaths: two sailors and the Third Engineer. The assistant cook lost his left hand, and the cook lost his right leg."

Our Navigator has gone completely mad as well. It's clear we need to replace most of the crew.

All of these in exchange for a mere clue of the key's location. Their sacrifices weigh heavily on me; I don't know if it was worth it. If the key is really there, then the next adventure would be my final one in this seascape.

Just as Charles was about to start the next paragraph, a knock at the door interrupted him.

"What's the matter?" Charles called out.

"It's Linda. Feuerbach's awake."

The news had Charles' heart racing with joy. He swiftly grabbed his coat and dashed out of the door.

"I've conducted a complete blood transfusion and administered some special medicines that are still in their experimental phase. His life isn't in any immediate danger, but the special medicine has definitely damaged his internal organs," Linda shared the details as they both made their way to the infirmary.

"As long as he's alive That's better than anything else," Charles remarked, a light smile suffusing his lips.

Upon reaching the infirmary, Charles pushed the door open to see Feuerbach all bandaged up like a mummy. Despite the bandages, he was holding a crumpled cigarette between his trembling fingers and was trying to bring it to his lips.

"No smoking!" Linda shouted and dashed over. She grabbed the cigarette and threw it away.

A pained expression appeared on Feuerbach's face. His voice was barely a whisper as he weakly pleaded, "Dear, please, just one puff, just one."

"You should be well aware of your own condition right now. Your lungs can't take any more damage. Talk some more, and I'll sedate you."

"Of course, I know my body the best. But right now, I don't want to think of anything apart from having a smoke."

Hearing Feuerbach's clear articulation of his thoughts, Charles heaved a sigh of relief. Fortunately, his Second Mate seemed to be in a stable condition.

"Just stop smoking. One day less is not going to kill you," Charles remarked as he approached Feuerbach to retrieve the Dark Blade from the latter and placed it back into his own prosthetic arm.

Feuerbach's attention shifted from Linda to Charles. "Captain, how are my sharks? Did any of my babies get injured?"

"Only three died. Your sharks are fast. The sea otters stand little chance of catching them if they truly try to get away."

"What? Three?!" Feuerbach reiterated in alarm. He attempted to prop himself up, but the pain from his wounds washed over him. He fell back with a pained expression as though his consciousness had slipped away again.

"Which Which three?" Feuerbach asked, his voice laden with weakness.

"All your sharks look identical to me. How am I supposed to know which is which? Also, this is yours." Charles pulled out a small black pistol from his pocket and passed it to Feuerbach.

The pistol was only the size of Charles' palm. Despite its smaller size, it packed a considerable punch. Charles had been on the receiving end of its firepower, and the bullet penetrated his shoulder, even though he was supposed to be bulletproof.

The most unique component of the pistol was its appearance. It wasn't a typical revolver or flintlock. Instead, it looked like a modern pistol equipped with a safety feature.

"This is yours, right? I found it right beside you then," Charles said as he handed the pistol over to Feuerbach.

Feuerbach's expression changed subtly as he clapped his eyes on the pistol. The next moment, he forced a feeble smile as he explained, "This was my last resort to be used against powerful foes that I couldn't handle. I never thought I would have to use it on you, Captain. But I had no choice then when you went berserk."

"Yeah. Aim better next time, just enough to incapacitate me. I'm curious, though: where did you get this?"

The room went silent as Feuerbach pondered on how to respond. After several moments, Charles then placed the pistol on the bedside table and flashed a slight smile.

"Don't worry about it, I was just asking. Your main priority now is to rest well. Everything else is secondary. It has been hard on you this time," Charles said as he offered a reassuring pat on Feuerbach's shoulder.

Charles turned and headed for the door. Just before he could take a few steps, Feuerbach threw a question.

"By the way, Captain, what's our next move? Did we find any leads to the key on that island?"

Charles halted in his tracks at the doorway. He turned around and answered, "Considering your current physical condition, it's best you remain on the island and heal for the next few months. You can join the crew again once you've fully recuperated."

Feuerbach's anxiety was apparent on his face upon hearing Charles' words. "This is just a minor injury. I can totally endure it. Don't worry. I'll recover by our next departure."

"Don't make your family worry about you. Just focus on getting some rest," Charles said before he turned and walked out of the door. Linda followed closely behind and closed the door behind her.

Left all alone, Feuerbach stared for a while at the closed door. Then, he turned to look at his coat. After a great deal of effort, he finally managed to get a cigarette in the coat pocket into his mouth. He took out a match, struck it firmly against his face, and lit the cigarette.

Despite holding the cigarette between his lips, Feuerbach didn't take a single puff. Instead, he allowed the cigarette to smolder slowly, filling the infirmary with white smoke that lingered for a long time.

***

Under the watchful gazes of the islanders gathered at the docks, the scarred and battered Narwhale entered the port.

Leonardo was taken aback by the sight of the ship's pristine white hull marred with battle marks.

It seems like the Governor faced a rough time on this voyage. I hope he's fine. Leonardo mused in his heart.

Standing on the deck, Charles surveyed his damaged ship with a heavy heart and pained expression. He knew that extensive repairs were unavoidable. The voyage had dealt huge damage to his crew and his ship.

"Buddy, let's do this together," Charles remarked and gave the ship's rail a gentle pat. He then led his crew to disembark.

Upon seeing Charles alighting from the Narwhale, Leonardo hurriedly adjusted his tie and headed toward Charles. However, someone else outpaced him this time.

It was a mother holding a little boy by the hand. She ran forward and agitatedly scanned the faces of the crew members.

"Governor, where where is my husband?"

Dipp hurried forward and whispered into Charles' ear, "Captain, her husband was a sailor under me. He was torn into shreds by those sea otters."

Charles nodded in understanding. With his gaze fixated on the woman, he answered, "I'm sorry, he has fallen in the line of duty."

The news was too much for the woman to bear. She collapsed to the ground, and the light in her eyes vanished immediately.

"Rest assured, I will double the death compensation for him. And to honor your husband's brave deeds, I will give you a house in the heart of the island. You and your child would not have to worry about your daily needs for the rest of your life."

Charles' declaration stirred a buzz among the surrounding crowd. Most of them secretly wished it was one of their family members who had passed away instead. After all, everyone knew just how generous was Charles' compensation.

In all the seascape, no one could compete with Charles in terms of generosity, and none would be unsatisfied with such compensation.

"I don't want money! I don't care about some house in the heart of the island! I just want my daddy!"

The small boy beside the woman protested loudly as his tiny hands gripped a wooden boat. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he looked at Charles with a defiant glare.

Charles glanced at the boy before turning away without a word. He then made his way toward the nearby car with its door slightly ajar.

Cosyjuhye's Thoughts

Feuerbach is so sus now.

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