Wobbling through the storm, the passenger ship approached the lighthouse. Gradually, through the dimming rain, the port came into view for the captain, the sailors, and the passengers. Not long after, a man in his thirties—dressed in a blue uniform, carrying a black umbrella and a glass lantern—appeared on the dock, directing the ship to dock with a somewhat unpolished but clear set of gestures. "Hey, folks, where are you from?" he called out, opening his mouth as the gangplank lowered. Though the wind and rain largely swallowed his voice, it reached the ship's interior and made its way into Alfred's ears. "Do you know where we are?" Alfred glanced carefully at his second-in-command and his staff. He wasn't dressed in a general's uniform, but in the common black coat of Beckland, his bright golden hair casually falling over his shoulders, and his deep blue eyes like a still lake in the forest. The officer, with his hair neatly combed, first shook his head, indicating he wasn't sure, then explained: "The storm earlier confused my bearings." At that moment, the captain, holding an umbrella, came to the ship's side and responded to the man: "We set sail from East Bayling two days ago, only to encounter a storm." "Which port is this?" The man's eyes flickered, didn't directly answer, and called out, "Wait a moment." He then turned around, holding the umbrella and a lantern, and rushed toward the cluster of buildings near the wharf. This reaction came as a surprise to the passengers, including Alfred, but was no stranger to the captain and the first officer—both of whom had witnessed numerous unusual incidents at ports along the turbulent sea routes. They patiently awaited the unfolding events. Just a few minutes later, the man brought a lady running briskly toward them. The young lady was not carrying an umbrella, but instead wore a raincoat treated with the sap of the Donnismann trees, with a hood. After approaching the passenger ship, they ascended the gangway step by step under the watchful eyes of the armed seamen. At this distance, most passengers only now began to recognize their appearances. The man had brown hair and hazel eyes, his skin rough and weathered, clearly a man accustomed to enduring winds and rains. The woman was in her twenties, with湖-green eyes and long, light-brown hair, several strands of which hung damply over her face, adding to her air of both purity and charm. She was a strikingly beautiful woman with a wild, natural grace. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Utopia Port," the man said, with a touch of impatience. "I'm Theodor, temporary commander of the port." As he spoke, he smiled, evidently pleased with having invented such a distinguished-sounding title. The captain certainly knew what the so-called "port interim commander" meant, and he didn't take the sudden enthusiasm of this minor official at all seriously. He furrowed his brows, saying, "Utopia Port? I've never heard of it." Theodore glanced at him and replied, "I've heard this phrase many times. 'Haven't you been here before? If it weren't for that storm that kicked the驴, you'd never have come this far!' " Before he could say more, the lady interjected, "Utopia isn't on the safe route. Only vessels familiar with this region come here for supplies." In other words, the main users of this port were pirates? The captain didn't need to hear more—he clearly picked up the underlying implication. At this moment, it was better to remain silent and not expose it, as that would be protective for both parties. He nodded once, saying, "And you?" "I'm Tracy," the lady smiled warmly. "I'm the owner of the port inn, as well as the front desk and the staff." She glanced around and said, "The storm is quite strong—the ship will be quite rough. Staying here to rest isn't a particularly wise choice. The inn will provide you with comfortable beds, ample hot water, clean meals, warm blankets, and a home-like atmosphere. For one night, it's only ten pence—per room. Besides that, you can enjoy hearty drinks and warm, friendly service at the bar next door." It was clearly evident that the young lady was there to attract business. The captain remained cautious, not immediately responding, but nodded and said, "I cannot speak for the passengers in making their decisions—what they choose is entirely up to them. Of course, as captain, I will stay with my crew here." Crisi smiled and said, "I'll be waiting at the inn for any passengers who wish to disembark." She seemed to have received some education, unlike the other young women they encountered at various ports, who were more lively and outspoken, full of colorful expressions and profanity. Crispin half-turned to head back when Theodor stepped closer, blushing and saying, "You must thank me for delivering the news to you so promptly." As he spoke, his right hand suddenly pressed against the back of Crispin's hips, giving it a firm squeeze. *Plink!* Crispin snapped her hand free, shouting in sharp frustration, "You obnoxious, stubborn fool!" She hurried a few steps along the gangway and left the ship. Theodor shook his hand off with a broad smile and added, "A real tart!" This scene unexpectedly stirred the hearts of several passengers in the cabin. To them, the ship's greatest drawback was monotony, while the port offered bars. That meant they could encounter affordable, local street girls—distinct from those found on the northern or southern continents, with a unique regional flair. If they were lucky or willing to spend generously, perhaps one of them might even secure a night with the spirited, wild-eyed beauty just now. At once, several passengers had packed their belongings and were preparing to head straight for the port hotel. Seeing this, Alfred's aide asked, "Sir, shall we disembark?" Alfred slowly shook his head. "We know nothing about this place. We must be cautious. Staying on board is our best option." The aide offered no objection, merely expressing a slight concern. "What about those who have already disembarked?" "That's their own choice," Alfred said calmly, gazing out the window. "In the event of an emergency, we can only protect the majority unless the situation is minor and easily manageable." Having finished, he turned to the aide and the staff. "We'll take turns on watch tonight to guard against any unforeseen events." Alfred, who had previously interacted with numerous organizations—including the Southern Continent's spiritual monasteries and the Rose School—had an instinctive wariness of unfamiliar places. After exchanging views with the captain, Alfred lay down on his bed, listening to the wind rattling against the glass windows and the steady rain drumming on the deck, settling calmly into sleep. At that moment, he heard a gentle, melancholy melody coming from the port direction. It seemed to originate from a flute, faint and intermittent, as if someone were weeping in the storm. Alfred was instantly immersed in this music and atmosphere, as though transported back to the recurring dreams of Beckettland—the blend of childhood joy and youthful anxieties that had always defined his early years. He shook his head vigorously, dispelling this feeling, realizing it was not a mental phenomenon, but simply a natural human response. He got up, turned over, and walked to the window, using the exceptional ability of the constable to confirm that the music had come from the modest inn. The passengers who didn't disembark had clear intentions—they wouldn't have the heart to play such a melody. There were guests who had always been part of the port, or perhaps the owner and server named Trish? If it were her, then she was certainly someone with a rich story. Alfred mused a little and then turned away, no longer paying attention. Though curious, he didn't feel moved to disembark. Soon, the flute music ceased, and the port hotel settled into quiet, with no surprises. Time passed steadily, and as the storm subsided, the sky gradually brightened. By eight in the morning, the departing passengers returned one by one, each with a wobbly gait and pale, weary countenance. The sailors burst into laughter: "This young lady seems quite impressive!" Yet the passengers all shook their heads simultaneously, each expressing a sense of regret. One of them rubbed their temple and said, "The quality of the local sparkling wine here is excellent—much cheaper than elsewhere. I must have drunk too much and ended up asleep, not remembering whether or not I had any special moments with that lovely young woman. Oh, I woke up just in time to catch the boat departure, completely forgetting what I'd done while drunk. I only know that the goddess praised me, and gently returned me to my bed instead of leaving me to sleep in the rain." Other passengers nodded in agreement, sharing similar experiences. Of course, each had their own unique details—such as one passenger particularly praising the pastries at the budget hotel's breakfast. The sailors, while regretting missing out on the affordable and good sparkling wine, began to tease the passengers: "Perhaps it wasn't the young lady from here you spent the night with, but rather a big fellow like Theodor. After all, you all ended up so drunk, you couldn't possibly know what really happened!" "Haha, go ahead and give your butts a good rub!" Amid the bustling atmosphere, the sailors stowed the gangplanks, hoisted the sails, and gradually set the passenger ship on its course. Only after they had passed through a slightly shadowed stretch of sea and returned to the familiar, safe channel did Alfred finally relax, smiling to his deputy and staff: "We should mark this spot on our map—brandy and pastries are a good start, yes, and the girls have their own charm as well." After several more days of sailing, the ship finally reached Escon Port in the Dici Gulf along the winding, secure channel. Upholding his noble demeanor and innate social instincts, Alfred visited the senior officers of the nearby military base and shared a delightful dinner with them. Upon returning to his father's country villa in the area, he was surprised to find his staff member, whom he had sent off to gather information, now pale-faced. "What's wrong?" Alfred immediately shed his relaxed demeanor. The attendant spoke in a hushed tone, "Sir, not a single official map of the kingdom marks Utopia Port."