Naturally, living in a damp, dark cell was far from comfortable. After just a few days, Shindy had turned gaunt and haggard from the experience.
Not only did sleep evade him, he had to deal with the horrible food, too. Every so often, his fellow tribesmen would also drag him out to interrogate him about all sorts of things.
Thankfully, Shindy was well prepared. He had a set of well-rehearsed answers to all their questions.
As per his earlier recount, their ship had been attacked by a massive leviathan whale that spanned over several hundred meters long. Most of the crew, including the ship's doctor, died during the attack, while the other survivors also succumbed to their wounds on their journey back due to the lack of treatment.
When he was asked about the whereabouts of the corpses, Shindy claimed that the captain had instructed with his last dying breath to bury the bodies at sea to prevent the risk of disease from rotting corpses.
Though Shindy's interrogators showed no visible responses to his answers, Charles was well-experienced in this. Observing with the spider eye, he immediately deduced that they had no way of validating the authenticity of Shindy's story.
Everyone else was gone and the incident had occurred far out at sea with no witness. The truth depended solely on Shindy's words.
Death was common at sea; in fact, it was accepted to be a common occurrence and hardly aroused any suspicion.
Creak!
The heavy wooden door, damp from accumulated moisture, slowly swung open.Through the spider eye in Shindy's eye socket, Charles watched as a tall, middle-aged giant stood at the entrance of the cell. His expression looked agitated as he seemed to recognize Shindy.
"Father," Shindy called out as he struggled to his feet, a complex expression crossing his face.
Shindy's father ran into the cell and pulled Shindy into a tight embrace. His voice trembled with emotions as he muttered, "As long you are alive… that's all that matters…"
While the father and son were feeling relief in their reunion, a towering Haikor giant dressed in a green uniform entered the cell. Noticing the black crossbow strapped to his waist, Charles quickly deduced that this man was likely a law enforcement officer among the Haikor tribe.
"Hank, look carefully. Are you sure this is your son?" the officer asked, his gaze shimmering with a hint of hostility.
Hank released Shindy before turning to the officer and nodding firmly. "Yes! I'm certain he's my son. There's no mistake!"
The officer regarded Shindy with suspicion for several more seconds before waving his hand dismissively. "Let's move out. The smell's so nasty here. We'll continue this discussion at the customs."
Following Shindy out of the cell, Charles realized that the ship had already docked on Shattered Heart Isles. Shindy had only been held in the ship this entire time due to the authorities' distrust toward him.
Upon arriving at the customs office, despite having been through countless rounds of interrogations, Shindy was subjected to yet another round of intense questioning. Fortunately, he didn't slip up and remained consistent throughout the interrogation. After leaving a drop of blood as a backup to his statement, he and his father, Hank, were finally allowed to leave.
"An entire crew being wiped out is no small matter. You'd better stay home for the time being and come over whenever we summon you," the officer warned in a stern tone. "Hey! I'm talking to you! Do you hear me?"
Shindy shrunk into himself and nodded meekly; his feigned demeanor was exactly like that of an ordinary, timid young man.
Once they left the building, both Shindy and his father let out a collective sigh of relief.
"Alright, let's put the past behind us," Hank said in a gentle tone. "I hope you remember this lesson and no more going out to sea for work, ever again."
"Yes, I know."
Hank couldn't help but feel surprised by his son's reply. This was nothing like his rebellious son at all. It seemed that his son's close brush with death had finally forced him to grow a little more mature.
As the father and son headed home, Charles began to observe the surroundings. Despite the Haikor tribe being nominally part of the Foundation's network, there was hardly any trace of advanced technology on the island.
The streets were lit by whale oil lamps, the residential buildings were built from fish bones and mud, and their main mode of transportation was still horse-drawn carts. Charles couldn't help but admit that the Foundation's plan to use the Haikor tribe as a cover was a clever one.
Shindy's home was small, and the furniture within was basic and crudely made. However, they had whatever was necessary for daily living. The only difference was the material these furniture were made from. As compared to metal, the Haikors clearly favored whale bones.
The moment Shindy stepped into the house, his mother, who was larger than him by a full size, rushed over and pulled him into a tight embrace as tears streamed down her face. Soon, another round of heartfelt chatter began.
Once their emotional reunion was over, steaming dishes were placed onto the table. The two parents watched with teary eyes as their son gobbled up the food like he hadn't eaten in days.
"Shindy, do you still remember? Five years ago today, the Apostle brought you to our house. Under His witness, we signed a contract and became a family," Hank said, his voice tinged with nostalgia.
Shindy tilted his head back, gulping down the large bowl of soup made from red fish scales. Swallowing everything in his mouth, he placed the empty bowl back onto the table and nodded. "Yes, I remember that day."
"It seems like everything was decided by the gods. They must have felt that you were not meant to die," Hank said and suddenly rose to his feet. He walked over to the small shrine in the corner and carefully wiped down a red coral statue with a cloth.
Charles eyed the statue—a swollen old dog with tentacle-like appendages around the mouth. Charles instantly recognized it to be Dr. O5 from the Foundation.
It seemed that among the Haikor tribe, there were also various branches when it came to the worship of the fake gods, and Shindy's household wworshiped O5.
However, Shindy had already converted, becoming a Fhtagnist, so the scene before him felt like a blatant desecration of his one and true God. The real God was almighty and powerful, unlike these mortal, fake gods.
Just as Shindy wanted to voice out his grievances, Charles gently nipped at his eye socket with his spider mandibles to remind him to stay in character and not stir any unnecessary trouble.
"Shindy, why aren't you eating? Are you craving for something else? I can go buy it for you now," Shindy's mother offered.
Shindy merely shook his head and flashed his mother a smile before continuing to eat one large mouthful after another.
As night befell, with only one eye remaining, Shindy looked respectfully at Charles' spider nibbling on some fish.
"Governor, this food is indeed a bit plain. I'll have my mother go to the fish market tomorrow to buy something fresh," Shindy remarked.
Charles maneuvered the spider, allowing its white silk threads to glide across the floor.
"Stop wasting time on meaningless things," Charles wrote. "Let's get down to business. We're in the enemy's outpost. Caution is key."
Shindy moved to the window and carefully pulled back the curtain to reveal a slit. He observed his parents, who were sleeping outside, before returning to Charles.
"I know; the heretics are everywhere out there," Shindy whispered. "Tomorrow, I'll go gather intelligence. All for God Fhtagn!"
Charles wordlessly stared at Shindy for a few seconds, his spider eyes narrowing. However, he decided he was too lazy to say anything and silently retreated back into Shindy's eye socket.
He had almost forgotten that Shindy was a Fhtagn fanatic. There was no need for him to interact too much with a zealot; he just needed to make use of Shindy.
The next morning, Shindy was eager to go out, but Charles stopped him. It was just too suspicious for him to go out the moment he returned home, and especially so if he were to loiter around a place that held the Fhtagn lunatics captive.
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