The atmosphere was somewhat oppressive, but the crew's spirits remained stable. Compared to previous islands, this environment was merely unsettling and not the worst situation they had encountered.

  Sitting on a rock, Charles was engaged in a mental conversation with Richard.

  "This island doesn't seem promising; it doesn't look like it gets any sunlight," he remarked.

  "Exactly! It stinks here. If I were a repairman, I wouldn't fix anything in this place," Richard replied.

  "Let's explore first. Maybe the 'King' intentionally disguised a supply island like this," Charles suggested.

  "Oh? If they really have been here, does that mean there could be relics?" Richard's curiosity piqued.

  "Stop it! Haven't we learned enough from the last time?" Charles admonished.

  "What am I joking about? Aren't relics what have kept us alive? We owe our survival to their powers!" Richard countered.

  "The side effects of relics are extremely potent. Simply having more relics won't make us stronger," Charles insisted.

  Just then, Deep's voice interrupted their discussion. They both turned to see their bosun pulling a cylindrical object from his backpack.

  "Ha! I brought this too! I thought I had forgotten it," Deep exclaimed.

  Seeing the curious looks from his companions, he proudly displayed the item. "This is a new gadget from Britannia Island. Check it out!"

  He pressed a red button on the device, and a blinding white light shot into the fog. "This is a flashlight—a portable electric light. How cool is that? Captain, why are you laughing? Look, it can even adjust the beam size."

  As Deep twisted the flashlight, the beam of light quickly focused, resembling a glowing sword in his hand. The boy, full of playful energy, waved the flashlight around, sweeping the light through the mist.

  Watching the light, Charles's smile gradually faded. This device might actually be useful; it was more durable than torches, easier to store, and had excellent penetration in this thick fog. He mentally noted it as a potential item for their next adventure.

  "Ahhh!!" Lily, standing behind Charles, suddenly screamed in terror.

  "What’s wrong?" Charles quickly brought her in front of him.

  "Over there... there’s a face! When the beam swept by, I saw a face!" she stammered.

  Charles's heart raced as he stomped on the rock and charged toward the direction Lily pointed. The sound of bullets being chambered echoed behind him as the crew followed closely.

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  They quickly navigated through the fog and found the "face" Lily had mentioned, only to discover it wasn’t a person but a drawing on the wall.

  It was more like a child's crude doodle than a proper painting. Although the technique was sloppy, the emotion it conveyed was palpable. It depicted a naked human desperately clutching its own throat, the expression of agony vividly apparent. This grotesque image, combined with the hasty doodling, created an eerie atmosphere.

  "Mr. Charles, who painted this?" Lily asked, her head tucked into his clothing.

  "Honestly, I’m more curious about who built this wall," Charles replied, running his hand along the sturdy surface. The thick fog obscured his view, making it impossible to determine the wall's height or width.

  He tested it with his black blade, finding it incredibly solid, almost as hard as concrete. What kind of person would construct a wall in such a foul swamp? From the pale yellow color, it didn’t resemble the Foundation’s style. Could it be the 'King'?

  "Let’s walk along the wall and see what we find," Charles decided, leading the crew onward.

  As they moved away from the drawing, the light from their torches slowly faded. Suddenly, the terrifying image began to twist and contort, and more tragic doodles emerged from the wall, their mouths agape in silent screams, intertwining until the entire wall was filled, merging with the darkness.

  After nearly two hours of following the wall, Charles finally reached an abrupt opening, shrouded in fog, obscuring whatever lay within.

  Fortunately, Charles had packed several new tools that would come in handy at this moment. He pulled out a mirror box from his backpack and instructed the vampire to fly away. Then he opened the box.

  Blinding sunlight instantly dispelled the fog, leaving everyone present in awe at the scene before them.

  Inside the opening, multiple walls intersected in the distance, creating an immense maze shrouded in damp mist. Each wall was towering and wide, as if the maze had been built for giants over a hundred meters tall. Just standing beside it sent chills down their spines.

  As the warm light gradually faded, those walls disappeared back into the fog.

  After a long pause, a harsh scratching sound echoed. Charles raised his black blade and drew an arrow on the wall.

  "Let’s go!" he declared, stepping into the mist.

  The atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive; it was clear to everyone that this place was dangerous, and no one wanted to die. Every crew member was on high alert.

  Though they were all prepared, they had been in the maze for some time without any incidents. The absence of danger only heightened Charles's unease. His mind was taut with tension.

  There were no stone resting places within the maze, and Charles's feet gradually lost sensation from the cold. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time, realizing they had been in the maze for almost two hours.

  Looking at the murky water below, he drew another arrow on the wall and turned to the crew. "Let’s explore for another half hour. If we find nothing, we’ll head back to the ship to rest and come back later."

  Upon hearing this, everyone, including the doctor, breathed a sigh of relief; this place was truly unsettling.

  Time ticked by, and just as they were nearing the half-hour mark, Charles suddenly flicked his black blade, sending it slicing through the water. He immediately followed up, grabbing the hilt but finding nothing on the blade.

  This action hadn’t been his but Richard’s.

  "What did you see?" Charles asked in his mind.

  "I saw ripples suddenly appear on the water's surface. I thought something was there. Strange, was it just my imagination?" Richard replied.

  Charles probed the water with his black blade, finding nothing but muck.

  Standing up, he checked the time again. "Let’s head back; half an hour is up. We’ll rest and return."

  Everyone felt a wave of relief and turned to leave. However, when Charles double-checked the headcount, a cold sweat dripped down his face.

  "Everyone wait!! The first officer is missing!"