From the Ship of Fools to Earl of Wugang

Edmund asked the old man about the "less particular" places in town.

The old man was clearly reluctant to say more, but after Edmund bought another towel as a "consultation fee," he vaguely gestured towards the east.

"Looking for some fun? Go for a walk in the riverside neighborhood, it's over there."

Edmund nodded, turned and left the grocery store.

As you walk east along the main street, the buildings gradually become lower and dilapidated, with brick and stone walls giving way to corrugated iron sheets and wooden planks, and the road surface changes from asphalt to gravel.

The streets are nearly deserted, but occasionally you can catch a glimpse of a few figures peeking out. The residents of this area are also suffering from insomnia.

After walking for about ten minutes, Edmund saw what he was looking for at the corner of a narrow alley.

A bar that is clearly converted from a warehouse has its name "Old Anchor Bar" displayed in bold lettering using LED strip lights.

"Gaudy and vulgar," Edmund thought to himself.

He pushed open the door, and light followed him through the murky air filled with the smells of cheap tobacco, beer, and fried grease.

The room was dim and dirty. Behind the bar hung an anchor, and several wooden tables were scattered in front of the bar, where several drunkards were slumped over, snoring.

Given the town's "compulsive insomnia," these people probably got themselves drunk.

There was a woman standing behind the bar; Edmund actually took a while to confirm her gender.

She had wolf-tail hair, and her muscular shoulders, adorned with tattoos, were visible beside her black vest, making her look like a burly young man.

But Edmund noticed that she had no Adam's apple and the faint curve visible below the neckline of her vest.

This place has a bartender who looks quite dashing, but is actually a woman? Interesting.

Seemingly sensing scrutiny, the bartender put down the rag he was using to wipe the bar.

"There's nothing fun to do at the bars in the morning, I'll come back in the afternoon."

"I'm not here for drinks, give me something to eat." Edmund pulled out some money and slapped it on the bar.

"The local restaurants are so rude, they won't sell me any food."

The woman glanced at the crisp ten-dollar bill, then looked at Edmund.

"You're not from around here, are you?" she said.

Unlike the shop owners on the street, there was no rejection in her tone.

"Yes, the kind townspeople would rather let me starve than let me suffer from insomnia."

The woman snorted and took the money. "If you washed your face and took a shower, maybe they'd change their attitude, buddy. Okay, what do you want to eat?"

Taking a bath is out of the question unless I find some decent new clothes.

Ryan's appearance didn't match the clothes of a port worker, and it took him a lot of oil to clean up the mess.

Edmund grinned. "Give me something nutritious. I feel like I could eat half a cow right now."

"This amount of money can only buy a fish basket and a hamburger patty at most—that's all they sell here. Add some fries, and that's enough for you."

Edmund nodded and sat down on the bar stool next to the bar.

Scanning the bar, he suddenly realized that the female bartenders busy at the bar did not have the same sickly weariness as the townspeople around them.

Mika Brook, 24 years old, a qualified "Path of Courage". Although not officially promoted, she is protected by the tattooing technique "Zito", thus exempting her from the influence of the nearby "Riogel".

The Honi refined their ancient talismanic art to protect their pilgrims from evil spirits. They called this art "Zito" and have preserved it within their community ever since.

[Riogle, one of the mythical creatures, mostly exists as a servant of the "Sleep God," usually active in the Dream Realm, and can influence the dreams of mortal beings...]

Besides reinforcing Edmund's resolve to leave as soon as possible, one word caught his attention.

"A candidate for the 'Path of Courage and Strength'"—what is that?

While I was thinking, a generously portioned basket of fried fish and hamburger patties was served, with coarsely chopped golden fries piled up to the side, accompanied by a small dish of tempting tartar sauce.

Then another large glass of light beer, covered in fine foam, was pushed in front of him.

Edmund wolfed down the entire basket of fried fish and hamburger patties.

The crispy fried fish skin mixed with the sweetness of tartar sauce, followed by a large gulp of ice-cold light beer, made him feel as if his soul, which had been soaked in seawater, had finally settled back into his body.

The female bartender wiping the glasses commented mercilessly, "This is the first meal a devil who escaped from hell would have on earth."

"This is the first proper meal in days. You wouldn't understand the feeling," Edmund said casually, wiping his mouth.

"Something's off about this town. Everyone looks like zombies crawling out of the ground to sunbathe. How can the tavern stay in business?"

"You can just get yourself drunk and fall asleep. That's how a lot of people here have done it before," the bartender sneered before changing the subject.

"I sincerely suggest you walk two blocks east; there's a public bathhouse there where you can shower for as little as five dollars."

The mention of bathing brought Edmund's discomfort back, and even the scratches he had sustained while escaping the previous night began to ache.

"Oh, perhaps you're right." He downed his drink in one gulp. "By the way, is there any secondhand store nearby? I think I'll need a clean set of clothes."

The female bartender looked Edmund up and down: "That makes sense. I didn't expect you to be so good at taking care of yourself. Old Buck's shop should be able to find the clothes you need. It's not far from the bathhouse. Just ask around."

"Well, thanks for the information." Edmund changed the subject. "Is there any place in this town that sells certain special items, I mean, something that can actually cure this kind of insomnia?"

The bartender looked at Edmund with unprecedented seriousness, but in the end she simply shook her head slightly.

"Unfortunately, the person you're looking for left Liugang a week ago. Go to the city; you can find what you're looking for there."

"Alright, thanks for the treat." Edmund slapped the remaining coins on the bar counter, turned, and pushed open the door to leave.

The sunlight outside was still dazzling, but the sickly fatigue that permeated the streets grew even stronger.

Edmund hadn't gone far when he saw several policemen in blue uniforms questioning passersby one by one at the intersection ahead.

Edmund knew that the nuns would surely notice the shortage of people on the Fool's Ship and send a message to the shore.

This body belongs to Ryan, and he has no identification. If the police notice, he'll be in big trouble.

But Edmund immediately suppressed his panic, knowing that he must not show weakness, especially at times like these.

He put his hands in his pockets, walked briskly toward the police line, and even looked at the police officers with interest.

"Hey, you over there! Stop." An older policeman waved him over.

Edmund obediently stopped, a perfectly timed smile on his face.

"Good morning, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?"

The police officer scanned him up and down with his bloodshot eyes.

"What's your name? Where are you from? Have you seen any suspicious homeless people or mental patients who escaped from a mental hospital recently?"

Edmund keenly noticed that the policeman's dark circles were even more pronounced than the old man's at the grocery store; his eyelids were drooping involuntarily, and his fingers were trembling slightly.

Clearly, this policeman also suffers from insomnia, and the job adds to his stress.

Edmund immediately had an idea. He deliberately raised his voice, pretending to be very talkative and full of curiosity.

"My God, sir, my name is Tom. I just came here from the ship for a stroll! You mean a mentally ill person? I knew something was off about this town. Was it alien radiation? Or is the government secretly conducting experiments?"

The police officer frowned, clearly not expecting the man to talk so much.

Edmund didn't give him a chance to interrupt and continued rambling on.

"Sir, you look exhausted too. Are you having trouble sleeping too? That's terrible! I remember I have a distant cousin who lives around here. She used to have insomnia, and it turned out she had a dead mouse hiding under her bed."