The door to the captain's cabin opened, and Duncan stepped into the room. The goat head, currently in charge of navigating the *Lost Country*, immediately reacted, creaking and groaning as it turned its head.

"Duncan Abernathy," I answered in advance. Duncan spoke before the creature could, then headed straight for the liquor cabinet in the corner of the room, pouring himself a small glass of spirits and downing it in one gulp.

The spicy, stimulating sensation burned his nerves. The potent drink seemed to have a truly soothing effect. Duncan exhaled softly, feeling his mood calm a little. Then he turned to the nautical chart and waited, watching the course steadily extending southward.

The goat head's head slowly turned with Duncan's movements, as if cautiously observing the captain's every action. After a long while, it finally hesitated and broke the silence.

"Captain... you don't seem to be in a good mood! Should I tell you some jokes?"

"I'm better at elven-style jokes. Many people think this race is humorless, but they actually have a special sense of humor – irrelevant to mood." Duncan waved his hand. He knew the goat head genuinely wanted to help cheer him up, so he didn't say much, just quietly sat down, seemingly absorbed in studying the lines and markers extending across the sea chart. However, his thoughts inevitably wandered.

In the end, he hadn't found any more answers in his bachelor apartment!

The computer, stuck in its strange state, no longer responded to any of his subsequent questions, maintaining its usual silence, as if the moon image that had suddenly appeared was just a hallucination.

But even without more answers, Duncan already realized that he had touched on something crucial. The moon of his home world appearing in this bizarre, twisted world – even just a model, a picture, or even a concept – was enough to prove one thing:

The two worlds he had thought were mutually isolated were not as separate as he had imagined. But there was no one he could share these world-shattering secrets with, no one he could analyze this matter with, not even Alice, who trusted him unconditionally, nor the seemingly loyal goat head on the table.

Duncan sighed softly and looked up, seeing the goat head still staring at him quietly, its obsidian eyes seeming to hold bottomless shadows.

"Captain, you can always trust your first mate," it said very seriously. "I know," Duncan replied, shaking his head gently. "But not all problems can be solved with your help. I appreciate the thought, but let's discuss the journey instead. We're heading to the elven city-states in the south. What do you know about elves?"

"I remember them!"

The goat head spoke immediately, as if the words had been brewing in its mind for a long time, but then it faltered a bit, hesitating before continuing. "Ah, well! I don't have much contact with them, but I know that elves have extremely high talent in mathematics and mechanics, as well as a unique historical heritage and some strange beliefs and customs. But more than that, elves are better known for their wonderful... understanding of food!"

Duncan frowned. This statement seemed pregnant with meaning.

"The elven palate is different from other races, so they always make some bold local modifications to foreign foods that are introduced to their city-states."

The goat head said rather euphemistically, "So I wanted to remind Miss Nina earlier, hoping she doesn't have too high of expectations for the sweet pancakes of Lightwind Port! Although the world says Lightwind Port gathers the special cuisines of various city-states in the civilized world, they didn't say how the elves mix those foods together."

"In short, Duncan, elves will stuff chili peppers and aged cheese, fermented until it's bubbling, into sweet pancakes, ultimately creating a soul-shaking flavor. Although I personally think it's quite creative... and at least more normal than honeyed pig intestines and spicy mutton eye pie." Duncan listened expressionlessly, and after a long time, slowly opened his mouth. "Looks like Nina is going to be disappointed with the upcoming southern trip!"

Lucretia sat in Talan Eal's laboratory, watching the renowned elven scholar across the table while quickly flipping through the mountain of documents on the desk, cramming egg rolls into her mouth.

The appalling smell of the egg rolls constantly provoked the nerves of the Sea Witch.

It was a traditional elven convenience food, the main ingredients being pancakes, eggs, fermented cheese, and a type of fungus called blackfinger mushrooms. It smelled a bit like severely rotten wood when fried, and tasted like... As for the marinated blackfinger mushrooms, they had a terrible texture and smell like old rags to Lucretia.

Overall, it couldn't be considered food, but it was Talan Eal's favorite – not only because it suited the elven palate, but also because it was convenient and easy to eat. A scholar unafraid of dying suddenly could finish a meal in three minutes with it, meeting basic nutritional needs for three meals a day, saving time to devote to endless research and fighting wits with doctors.

"Oh, found it! I knew it was here," Talan Eal finally stuffed the last bite of egg roll into his mouth, speaking unclearly while trying to swallow it, carefully pulling out some bound documents from the crumbling mountain. The mountain swayed in his movements, looking like it was about to collapse, but finally regained its balance in a more precarious position than before.

"Here you are, Ms. Lucretia – the information you wanted on the relationship between the ancient Cretan kingdom and the anomalies... If you had asked me yesterday, I would have found it right away. It hadn't been stuffed into this mountain yet!"

Lucretia reached out to take the documents, while taking another look at the elven scholar across from her. In terms of age, Talan Eal was in his golden age as an elf. He had just entered middle age, and with a little grooming, would undoubtedly become a refined scholar who could captivate thousands of young women. However, his overworking habits had completely ruined everything.

In most cases, like now, the image of this elven master was one of huge bags and dark circles under his eyes, messy hair that was falling out every day – it used to be golden, but now its texture and color were closer to yellowed hay – and an extremely terrible complexion.

Lucretia had worried more than once that this scholar would suddenly die in front of her, but luckily, or rather, unbelievably, Mr. Talan Eal was still stubbornly alive today. "I strongly suggest you pay attention to your health, and cultivate normal eating and living habits," the Sea Witch sighed, casually flipping through the documents in her hand and couldn't help but say. "Even to have a longer lifespan for research, you should pay attention to your body."

"I am paying attention!" Talan Eal said casually, but then made a rigorous correction. "I mean, at least more than before. But special periods require special standards, Ms. Lucretia. You should know what the fragments that fell from Anomaly 001 mean to the civilized world. We must understand its secrets, and as soon as possible."

"But now it's clear that we've reached a bottleneck. Before a new breakthrough appears, your tireless efforts are more like a waste of time," Lucretia raised her eyelids. "Unless we can find someone from the ancient Cretan kingdom, or find a book that directly explains the birth process of the anomaly, I still suggest you rest for a few days."

Talan Eal waved his hand irritably, seeming to want to say something in defense, but couldn't find any reason to refute it. But after a few seconds of sullen silence, he suddenly thought of something again, and looked up with a hint of hesitation, "Ms. Lucretia, as far as I know, your father is coming. And he's coming for the fallen object! He set off immediately after hearing about the extraterrestrial object, and seems to attach great importance to it." Lucretia said, her expression a little awkward. "I'm completely unprepared for this. In fact, I haven't mentally prepared myself yet. But why did you suddenly bring this up?"

"Your father set off immediately after learning about the fallen object, obviously knowing something," Talan Eal said. "Ms. Lucretia, do you think he might be the breakthrough? Perhaps he knows what the stone ball in the center of the luminous gas is, or perhaps he knows the specific connection between the ancient Cretan kingdom and Anomaly 001, or even..." Talan Eal stopped, Lucretia interrupted the elven scholar. "You may have misunderstood something. My father is an outstanding explorer. What he's interested in is probably just the strange object itself... And please don't forget, he spent a century in the subspace! Even my brother and I have to be extra cautious when contacting my father. Your attitude is a bit too optimistic and bold right now."

Talan Eal laughed. "Ah... then which behavior do you think has a higher mortality rate – unhealthy living habits, or bold contact with your father?"

Lucretia's eyes twitched. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but at this moment, a sudden commotion and exclamation from outside the window interrupted what she wanted to say: "The sun... the sun has gone out!"