Tap. Tap. Tap0

The rhythmic drumming of Charles' fingers on the nautical chart echoed through the captain's quarters. With a deep crease in his brow, Charles fixed his gaze on the specific island he had chosen.0

The island was not too far away; it formed an equilateral triangle with Skywater Island and Hope Island.0

As the ship sailed, Charles could sense that his crew seemed to have grown rusty at handling the pressure at sea. They appeared excessively tense.0

He and his crew had been away from the sea for three years. Over this extended period, they had grown somewhat out of touch with the ocean. Choosing the nearest island seemed reassuring, as it would provide a quicker escape should situations deteriorate. 0

"I hope there will be clues on this island…" Charles muttered to himself, but he knew all too well that it was just a hopeful wish. After all, hope...1