Shrouded Seascape

Chapter 285. Old Acquaintances, Changed Circumstances

Chapter 285. Old Acquaintances, Changed Circumstances

Five days later, Charles was seated in his office and listening to a report from a guard standing before him.

"Governor, according to the Navy's intelligence, there is currently no method to revert a Deep Dweller back into a human," the guard began.

He then continued, "All our gathered records indicate that they had been born a Deep Dweller, and a human doesn't turn into a Deep Dweller from out of the blue. Perhaps there might be a way to turn a human into a Deep Dweller, but there's nothing to reverse the process."

The image of Dipp's carefree smile flashed across Charles' mind, and he exhaled at length.

Is there really no way to turn that kid back? Charles pondered to himself for a brief moment before he gave his next instruction.

"Keep searching! If there are no solutions to be found in the Northern Seas, try the Southern or Western Seas. In this illogical world, there must surely be a way."

"Yes, Governor!" the guard saluted and left.

After the guard had left the room, Charles rose from his chair and headed toward the sunny balcony.

The island had undergone significant changes. Apart from the fruit fields, the other areas of Hope Island had been covered with shacks of various heights.

In fact, the shelter had caused the central area to be so dim that several holes had to be made in the awnings to let light in. The sun rays peeking through the roofs resembled golden waterfalls of sunshine.

In the nearby vicinity, a group of teenagers was frolicking and playing around a beam of light. They laughed as they daringly stretched their fingers out into the light to compete on who's braver. As two guards approached them with a sharp whistle, they immediately scattered with a peal of carefree laughter.

"The island is getting more beautiful by the day. I should just take a good rest today," Charles muttered to himself as he walked down the corridors of the Governor's Mansion. Before he even descended the stairs, he made a U-turn to grab his long-unused drawing board.

Walking on the streets, he could see the brimming confidence on everyone's faces, as though Hope Island had indeed given them hope for the future.

However, their smiles made Charles feel somewhat lonely as he strolled down the streets alone.

Maybe I should invite everyone to the Governor's Mansion for dinner tonight. Charles thought about it briefly but eventually dismissed the idea.

They were just his crew members and subordinates. He suddenly realized that he had no true friends.

On the ship, everyone followed his orders due to his position, but once ashore, they all had their own families to return to.

Bandages could be possibly considered a friend, but talking to him could be a bit of a drag. As for Lily, she was a mischievous child at most.

In the entire seascape, Anna was the only one who truly understood him. However, she was far from being satisfied with a peaceful life and was always busy with her own tasks.

There was also Elizabeth, but Charles felt that they had a complicated relationship. He still couldn't put a finger on whether she was part of his harem or he was part of her harem.

Just as Charles was walking toward the docks with his drawing board, a familiar scent of milk wafted into his nostrils; he followed the aroma and arrived at a stall selling cream oysters.

"How much for a serving?" Charles asked.

"30 Echo each, Mr. Painter. Would you like a serving?" the stall owner asked with a bright smile as he tapped his spatula against the grill pan.

"That's expensive. It doesn't cost this much on the Coral Archipelago," Charles commented.

"Well, you can't compare the prices here to there. They have their own dairy farms in the Coral Archipelago. Also, jobs are easier to find here on Hope Island. 30 Echo is a really fair price."

"Alright, I'll get one serving then."

"One serving coming up!"

The owner then cut open a packet of milk with his spatula and poured it onto his grill pan. With skillful movements, he started frying the cream oysters.

As sweat dripped off the stall owner before him, Charles couldn't help but find the image of the man overlapping with someone else in his memory.

"Here's your cream oysters, sir. If you enjoyed it, please patronize me again next time," the owner said as he handed over the dish.

Just as the painter before him took the plate and disappeared into the crowd, a satisfied smile appeared on Tom's countenance as he started to clean up the grill plate in preparation for the next order.

But all of a sudden, a thought struck his mind, and he poked his head out of his stall. In a state of panic, he looked toward the direction his previous customer had disappeared into.

"A scar on the face, black irises, left prosthetic arm. Oh my goodness! Is that the Governor? The Governor likes eating my food?" Tom exclaimed in excitement.

Meanwhile, Charles took his serving of cream oysters and headed toward the telegraph office. He wasn't in a rush to eat. The encounter with the stall owner had reminded him that now that he was a Governor, it was time to bring an old friend over to the island.

With the address provided by Old John, Charles sent a top-tier telegraph message over. The top-tier telegraph was known for its fastest speed and they even had a dedicated delivery service.

Beep! Beeeeep! Beeeeep!

The response came promptly.

Old John's Son, Aurelius: Sorry, may I know how are you related to my father?

Father? Charles' brows slightly furrowed. He was unaware that Old John had a son.

Aurelius: My mother was a refugee from Shadow Island. He bought her from a brothel owner with a gold coin. I became his son after that.

Charles: My name is Charles. Just mention my name to Old John; he'll know who I am.

Aurelius: Sorry, my father had passed away. The doctor said it was due to excessive drinking. How were you related to him?

Staring at the translated telegram before him, Charles blinked his eyes in silence. He then picked up the drawing board lying on the ground and walked out of the telegraph office.

He arrived at the docks and set up his drawing board before he started drawing with quick strokes. Soon, a portrait of a laughing, plump old man materialized on the paper. The man was Old John, the former first mate of S.S. Mouse.

Charles held up the painting for the last look before he bent down and placed the portrait into the waters, allowing the waves to take Old John away.

If he had to name someone who had helped him the most when he had first arrived in this world, it would be the kind-hearted old John.

When he had just arrived here, he couldn't even speak the seascape's language. It was Old John who patiently guided him to speak each syllable and read every character.

Now that he had become a Governor, he had intended to repay Old John's kindness, but sadly, Old John had already passed away.

"Perhaps... It's all for the best. To be able to live to his age in this seascape and even have a child and wife before passing on. He should be satisfied," Charles muttered to himself as he watched the paper slowly being taken away by the tides and blending into the endless darkness.

Just as Charles stood lost in his thoughts, reminiscing about an old friend, he suddenly felt a piercing gaze on his back. He turned around to face a woman with a terrifying scar marring her face. At first glance, she looked rather familiar.

It took a couple of seconds before realization dawned on Charles—she was Margaret, the daughter of the former governor of the Isle of Whereto.

"It's been a while; you're all grown up now," Charles commented as a warm, relieved smile surfaced on his visage and walked toward her.

When the distance between them had been reduced to no more than five meters, Margaret suddenly broke the silence, "Governor Charles, I was the one who saved you when you became mad and disappeared."

"I'm aware. I was about to thank you. I've sent my men to look for you, but they couldn't find you."

Thank me? Margaret's facial expression slightly twisted, but she quickly composed herself.

"Governor, in return for saving your life, I'd like to ask for a few ships and some navy soldiers as compensation," Margaret requested, her voice tinged with a frosty chill.

"I already know about your situation. Actually, you really didn't need to—"

Margaret interrupted him, "Governor Charles, is your life not even worth that much?"