Navigator: I Have a Legendary Exploration Log

To Cheryl's surprise, Sartre did not ask any further questions.

After receiving confirmation that the path was not to the abyss, he immediately removed the spiritual blockade he had been preparing for.

"Hmm... being a cook wouldn't be bad!"

Sartre commented with great seriousness: "On the ship, you can improve your meals, and if you don't want to go to sea anymore, you can still make a living on the island with your skills."

"Aren't you curious why I chose the chaotic path sequence?"

Chalice asked, puzzled, "After all, everyone basically follows the established path, with the church and the governor's office. Chaos obviously can't get by as well as order."

"That shows your narrow-mindedness."

Sartre seemed to have rediscovered the feeling of teaching Chalice navigation, and explained with pride: "Order and chaos, who is right and who is wrong, no one dares to say."

"Aside from the Abyss Path, which is off-limits, Order and Chaos are merely limits set by extraordinary individuals for themselves. Besides, aren't limits meant to be broken?"

"Symen Island is orderly, so most of what you see and hear are extraordinary beings who follow the path of order."

"When you run away to a faraway place, to an island where there is no governor to suppress you and no church to guard you, chaos will become the norm."

Chalice seemed to understand something.

"So, I can't find the Gourmet Series on Simon Island, right?"

"Oh...you underestimate me too much..."

Sartre raised an eyebrow. "I've been in this area for so many years, spent a lot of money on drinks, and made some bastards."

"As long as it's not a sequence from the Abyss, but just an entry ticket, I can find it for you if you want it."

"That……"

"only!"

Sartre interrupted Cherris, whose eyes were filled with delight.

"You need to pay more!"

Chalice stared at the righteously indignant Sartre, paused for a moment, then laughed, "Reasonable, damnably reasonable!"

"Old Captain, you know how much money I have, since I always deposit money with Sister Philon."

"The fact that you say that means you know my savings aren't enough. Fortunately, there was an extra bonus this time; the materials from those strange insects are worth quite a bit of money."

Cherries handed the final payment slip issued by the clerk from yesterday to Sartre.

The latter glanced at it, taking the numbers into his eyes.

"With this money, it's barely enough."

"But you're not going to repair your Homecoming? You're not going to hire a new chief engineer? And what about the compensation for the dead crew members? Do you want to ruin the good reputation you've worked so hard to build?"

"A wise captain won't leave a bad impression on his crew or potential crew members; after all, one person can't sail the seas alone..."

"That's why I came to find you!"

Chalice suddenly revealed a playful, grinning side.

"You yourself have said what my money is going to do, and it's all going to be very useful!"

"Since you run a small tavern and get drunk every day, you might as well use the money to support my extraordinary path!"

"You've done me a huge favor, and you're saved from having your money swindled by those drunkards one day, don't you think?"

"Hmph...you brat..."

Sartre curled his lip. "I shouldn't have pulled you out of the water. You're always causing me trouble. You're so old, yet you can't even have a peaceful life..."

Despite her complaints, she didn't refuse.

"Take your drinks and get out of here! Come back in three days!"

"Are you in such a hurry to get rid of me?"

Chalice chuckled and asked, "Old man, you might not see me again any day, won't you chat a little longer? Do you really find me annoying?"

"Do you think that desire-driven behavior is common here?"

Sartre said irritably, "I don't have a ready-made potion recipe, and the ingredients are a big problem too. Doesn't it take time to find someone to get the recipe and the ingredients?!"

"Blame me, blame me..."

With a forced smile, Chalice excused himself, "Then you go ahead with your work, I won't bother you any longer..."

"Don't rush off. I remember Russell's wife is in poor health, and the whole family depends on him for support."

Sartre said casually in a low voice, "The compensation you're offering is indeed substantial, but it won't cover their entire lives."

"That poor woman will have to work in a processing plant to earn money sooner or later. In that place... people are consumed faster than fish!"

"When you deliver the money, ask her if she'd be willing to come work here cleaning. It's not much work, and the pay... is alright..."

"understood."

Chalice waved the bottle in his hand at him. "May the goddess of storms bless you, kind old man!"

……

Leave the tavern.

Chalice walked and thought.

His decision to embark on the extraordinary path was not a spur-of-the-moment decision.

After witnessing Sartre's extraordinary power after traveling through time, he realized the importance of being extraordinary.

It was only after becoming a captain and awakening his diary six months ago that he had the confidence to accumulate capital and seek an extraordinary opportunity.

As far as he knows.

The prices of the recipes and materials for the common order path and first-order sequence are not outrageous.

It would take at least a cargo ship captain several years to save up enough to buy one.

The key is that this involves extraordinary knowledge, and in addition to its inherent value, acquiring it is also a hurdle.

Although the kingdom has declined, the governor's offices on each island have inherited the glory that belonged to the kingdom.

Most extraordinary sequences that require the Kingdom route must be obtained from the governor's office on the island in question.

The same applies to the church approach.

Even in cases where they part ways, most extraordinary individuals still rely on powerful forces such as governors and churches.

After all, it's good to have a powerful backer; obtaining subsequent sequences is definitely much easier than with wild extraordinary individuals.

Moreover, the governor and the church can use this to control the extraordinary within their jurisdiction, or at least prioritize the allocation of limited resources to those who are loyal to them.

Chalice's search for Sartre was essentially a form of "smuggling."

However, as long as you don't cause a major mess, this kind of thing is fine.

Basically, nobody cares.

……

Storm Bank.

Sartre's daughter, Philon, works here.

Being a bank teller is a good job.

Decent, stable, and without having to endure wind and sun.

Cherries walked smoothly to window number two and slipped the final payment slip for the goods, stamped with the association's seal, into the crack in the glass.

The young woman, who was working diligently, glanced at the transaction details on the document and immediately looked up with delight.

"Chilis! When did you get back?!"

"Yesterday, Sister Philon, it's been a long time! Please help me secure this money!"

"You little rascal! We haven't seen each other in so long, and you're already eyeing my money!"

With her long, light blonde hair piled up at the back of her head, Philon quickly completed the formalities for Cherissa.

Finally, the revenue from this shipping trip arrived in the account.

Chalice didn't linger. "I went to see Uncle Sartre, and he kept trying to force me to drink. Sister Philon, you really have to talk him out of it; I really don't like drinking!"

"What!?"

Philon raised her delicate fist at him. "It's one thing for the old man to be an alcoholic, but he also wants to corrupt you?! Wait till I get back, and I'll teach him a lesson..."

……

Dock area.

Seventy percent of Simon Island’s population lives here.

The buildings, of varying heights, stand side by side, and the air is thick with the smells of salt, fish, and sweat.

The sailors, shirtless and laughing, walked together, boasting in their rough voices about how much effort they had put in when they went out to sea.

He would occasionally whistle at scantily clad women on the roadside, who would respond with languid, seductive glances.

Several emaciated wild cats were fighting over half a stinking dead fish.

Chalice trudged through the waterlogged road, his boots splashing up murky sewage.

The splash startled the cats away, revealing the narrow entrance to a low-rise building.

Chalice let out a barely perceptible sigh, then went inside.

Russell's home is right here.

Most of the sailors were temporary workers.

A one-time contract is all it takes to get paid.

But First Mate Wirtz and Chief Engineer Russell were both old comrades who had been with him since the Tulip.

Chalice didn't want to deal with this suffocating scene.

But if the captain doesn't come, who should provide this compensation?

Perhaps it's because the stairs are too narrow and the hallway is too dark.

Cherries walked very slowly.

But in the end, they still arrived at Russell's doorstep.

Chalice stood there for a long time.

Faint sobs could be heard coming from inside...