"In 1900, the second district hadn't even launched yet—how could they possibly recognize me as a star official, let alone connect me with Captain Hase?" Zhang Yuanqing lay on his bed in the dorm room, thinking quietly. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to see the true form of the extraterrestrial meteor, but from the steady, pulsing sound, it seemed to be some kind of living entity. The Church's spiritual travelers had been stationed at the lower cabin, continuously monitoring it. "If only I could see it once," Zhang Yuanqing sighed, "then I'd know exactly what the extraterrestrial object was and what the Church personnel were doing." At that moment, his inspiration unexpectedly stirred, and he felt as though something unseen was watching him. Zhang Yuanqing immediately rose, strode out of the dorm, and headed down the corridor. The narrow corridor was silent, with only even breathing and soft snoring coming from the dorm rooms on either side. Just an hour earlier, they had been playing cards and gambling in their rooms; now, they were all asleep. — Seafaring is a monotonous job; besides the watch-duty soldiers, others may drink moderately, and gambling is considered acceptable entertainment. Zhang Yuancheng stood in the quiet corridor, his expression serious, gazing intently—his sense of being watched faded away. Well, for heaven's sake, Zhang muttered under his breath, returned to his quarters, closed the door, and didn’t dare go to sleep. He simply sat at his desk by the window, waiting for dawn. "Tomorrow, I’ll test the clergy’s people. If they’re not aligned with the captain, then I’ll take direct control of him. This move is somewhat aggressive and may easily trigger a major crisis..." As he pondered, he idly glanced around his room. As he kept looking, Zhang suddenly noticed something was off—this room was too clean. Aside from a few mid-lieutenant uniforms and toiletries, there was hardly anything else. What would a normal person have in their room, with nothing at all? Even the poorest soldier would have a lighter, cigarettes, and a photo album of a celebrity star, yet his room was completely bare. "Is it because Captain Hase is a character created on the spot, so everything about him remains blank? Otherwise, it's deeply unsettling..." Simply put, the emptiness of his room either reflects his own perception—or, alternatively, every detail about Captain Hase has been systematically erased, leaving it so clean. In that case, Captain Hase's identity must be far more significant than initially thought. Yet, considering the mysterious sense of being watched earlier, he forced himself to remain composed, removed his shoes, and lay down on the bed, remaining vigilant against the unknown gaze in the night. Time passed slowly; gradually, the window brightened, and the gentle sunlight spilled over the sea, reflecting shimmering ripples across the entire expanse. Dawn arrived. Zhang Yuanqing feigned energy, holding a metal basin filled with a toothbrush and a towel, and headed to the deck to brush his teeth. Along the deck, seamen and soldiers were huddled, washing up while describing women’s breasts and buttocks in crude terms, eagerly anticipating preaching and teaching upon arrival at port. When Zhang Yuanqing approached, the conversation instantly ceased, and everyone quietly brushed their teeth and washed their faces. Zhang Yuanqing glanced at the naval personnel on the deck and smiled, asking, “How respectful are you toward your officers?” The sailors and soldiers scrambled to rise and bow, repeatedly calling out “Officer” and “Lieutenant.” Zhang Yuanqing smiled gently, gently pressed his hands to signal them to continue with their routines, and then knelt down himself to brush his teeth and wash his face. They were afraid of him—not out of the usual junior-to-senior deference. Zhang Yuanqing’s expression remained calm, yet deep within, his confidence grew stronger: there was clearly a problem with Lieutenant Hase’s role. After finishing his morning wash, Zhang Yuanqing went to the cabin for breakfast. Halfway through, a soldier carrying a rifle approached and said, “Lieutenant Hase, the captain has asked you to come with him.” “What’s the matter?” Zhang Yuanqing sipped a warm glass of milk. The soldier shook his head. Zhang Yuanqing methodically finished off the toast, bacon, sausage, and eggs, then drained the warm milk from the cup before standing up and following the soldier out of the mess hall. They crossed the deck and reached the second floor, where they paused outside the captain's office. The soldier knocked on the door and then stepped back. "Come in!" the captain's voice called out. Zhang Yuanqing pushed the door open and entered the captain's office, where the middle-aged man—both a major and the captain—sat behind his desk, his deep blue eyes steady and focused, his tone calm yet authoritative. "How was your sleep last night, Lieutenant Ha?" "Not very good," Zhang Yuanqing shrugged. "I've been missing my mistress at the red-lit bar." "Oh, heavens," he said. "I've been on this ship for over twenty days, and every day I'm thinking about women. Fortunately, we'll be home in no more than a week." As he finished speaking, he noticed the captain's expression had grown slightly serious. "I'm calling you here to tell you that, starting tonight, you'll be on patrol until we return to the port of Surri." Captain James said. "Yes!" Zhang Yuanqing saluted, standing at attention. Captain James nodded in satisfaction. "Go about your duties." Zhang Yuanqing turned to leave, then paused, turning back to ask: "Captain, I had a strong craving for smoke last night, but there wasn't a single leaf of tobacco in my room. You know how essential smoke is to me—without it, I simply can't carry out my patrol duties effectively." James paused, then nodded. "I'll have the crew deliver several packages of tobacco to your room." Watching the back of Lieutenant Hase as he walked away, Captain James's blue eyes grew deep and calm, like the sea. ... "A man who can't do without cigarettes—how could there be no tobacco in his room? Hase's room has clearly been cleared out." Zhang Yuanqing, walking along the deck, gave a soft "hmm." Of course, if Lieutenant Hase were merely a temporarily created character, this detail could be overlooked. But Zhang Yuanqing possesses emotional resonance abilities, and it has already been confirmed that the sailors and naval personnel seem deeply afraid of "Lieutenant Hase"—this indicates that Hase is not just a character, but one with narrative significance. In other words, if the travelers of the Spirit Realm overlook the "sailors' apprehension" or the "exceptionally clean room," they will miss certain clues. With this thought in mind, Zhang Yuanqing decided to verify it further. He turned and entered the cabin, heading to the supply office of the logistics department. The supply officer was a stout man with gray eyes and a high hairline, his skin slightly loose. Upon Zhang Yuanqing's arrival, he jolted slightly, rising with some awkwardness and tension: "Ah, Lieutenant Hase, what may I do for you?" Just as he finished speaking, Zhang Yuanqing snapped his fingers, and the man was instantly drawn into the realm of illusion. In the realm, the man with gray eyes drew out a crew roster from the shelf holding documents, cross-checking the supply of items such as cigarettes, beverages, cheese, and vitamin C. Zhang Yuanqing bypassed the gray-eyed administrator who was standing motionless in place, walked toward the wooden shelf, and retrieved the roster. The roster was ten pages long, listing over five hundred crew members, with nearly half of their names struck through in red ink. "Has so many people died?" Zhang Yuanqing flipped back to the first page and glanced at the list at the beginning. Immediately, his brows furrowed. There were only two majors listed—Stephen Simpson and Watt Li Jia-tu—there was no mention of "Major Ha." "I saw Li Jia-tu yesterday, but I haven't seen Stephen Simpson. There are only two majors on board," Zhang Yuanqing narrowed his eyes. He set down the crew roster and looked at the gray-eyed administrator, now immersed in the realm. "Snap!" With a crisp clap of hands, the man with gray eyes sank softly to the floor, his breath steady, drifting into deep sleep. Zhang Yuanqing's form then vanished from the room and entered the man's dream. "Captain Has?" the man with gray eyes felt a moment of disorientation—though he had just been working, in the blink of an eye, Captain Has appeared. Zhang Yuanqing asked directly, "Where is Lieutenant Stephen Simpson?" Upon hearing this, the man with gray eyes suddenly went pale, his face as white as paper, his corpulent body trembling violently. "Where is Lieutenant Stephen Simpson?" Zhang Yuanqing repeated. The man with gray eyes grew even more agitated, his lips quivering, his facial muscles twitching, as though triggering a dreadful memory. The dream began to waver, threatening to collapse. This was the body's natural protective mechanism under extreme fear—Zhang Yuanqing hesitated for a single moment between stabilizing the dream and retreating, and ultimately chose to retreat. Feeling that asking further might trigger unfavorable changes… he leapt out of the dream, ignoring the drowsy gray-eyed administrator, and departed directly. He wasn't one of the top-tier spiritual travelers from the First District. A fatal poison specialist who lacked illusions or dream-based abilities—someone who relied on dream capabilities to gather information—might inadvertently precipitate a crisis before being ready. And he hadn't yet prepared himself. He exhaled a stream of cool qi, transforming into a round, endearing infant. "Aba..." the little one waved his arms, wrapping his tiny legs around Zhang Yuanqing's leg and lifting his head, happily gazing at his host and father. It had been a while since he last played with the host. "Find something valuable in the room," Zhang Yuanqing gently stroked the sparse tuft of hair on the infant's head, casually drawing a picture of the future: "Once we leave here, I'll take you gaming." Upon hearing this, the little one seemed electrified—his face grew serious, and he tilted his head, looking around with eager anticipation. Since surpassing the Saint-level stage, the little one's treasure-hunting abilities had significantly improved, and Zhang Yuanqing was genuinely excited to see what he could discover. The infant spun in place, then suddenly floated upward to the table, picking up two packs of cigarettes and presenting them to the host with a sense of pride. Did he really enjoy cigarettes so much? Zhang Yuanqing gave him a gentle slap on the Q-like, bouncy rump. "Not those—keep going!" Disappointed, the little one set the cigarettes down, tilted his head, as if A few seconds later, he scrambled down from the table, quickly crawled under the bed, and didn't emerge for a while. Zhang Yuanqing then pulled out the wooden chest containing his clothes and bent down. There, beneath the bed, the young, enthusiastic man was looking up at the bedboard. Zhang Yuanqing followed his line of sight and spotted a small notebook, stuck to the bedboard with yellow tape. "Left behind by Lieutenant Stephen?" he reached out, peeled off the tape, and took the notebook.