Monster Evolution System: I became a Rat-Chapter 70: A Monster Eye

Sailors and Rosacer went toward the island to explore it, while some of the crew headed into the forest to gather wood to repair the ship.

The moment their feet touched land, an uneasy feeling settled over everyone.

The shore was rough and uneven, covered in sharp stones and broken shells. The waves crashed hard against the rocks, louder than they should have been, as if the island itself wanted to remind them they did not belong here.

An ominous aura sends tingles of fear through everyone.

The Captain wasted no time.

"You three, head into the forest," he said. "We need solid timber if this ship is going to sail again."

Then he turned to the rest. "The others come with me. We check the ruins."

Rosacer stayed with the second group, walking slowly behind them. James was also in this group. The chef and the cleaners were given a choice; the chef decided to remain with the ship, while the cleaners went with the first group.

He watched Fea join the first group, dressed in the cleaner’s uniform. Her face carried a trace of sadness buried deep within, and on the deck, he shifted his gaze to see Katrina staring out toward the distant spires and towers.

"What is she looking at?" he muttered to himself.

He already knew they had been on the ship; during his earlier stroll, he had met and even greeted them.

Though Fea didn’t recognize him.

Turning back to the path, he rejoined his group as they headed deeper into the island.

They moved between tall stone spires that rose from the ground like broken spears. Some were cracked in half, others leaned as if ready to fall at any moment. Moss covered their bases, thick and dark, making the place feel rather unwelcoming, even alive sometimes.

One sailor whispered, "I don’t like this island; it gives me the creeps."

No one argued.

James glanced over at Rosacer to see how the old man was holding up and felt relieved when he noticed he seemed unfazed by the spires around them. Satisfied, he turned back to his fellow crewmen.

Soon, the broken tower came into view. Up close, it looked worse than from the sea. Half of it had collapsed, and the entrance was nothing more than a jagged hole in the stone. Faded carvings covered the walls.

Rosacer silently asked the system to help him decipher the meaning of the carvings. This time, however, the system remained quiet, sensing a deeper significance in the murals that it chose not to reveal. Frowning, Rosacer continued to follow the crewmen.

Suddenly, Rosacer stopped for a moment and coughed into his hand.

"You should stay back, old man," a sailor said. "We’ll take a look inside."

Rosacer shook his head slowly. "I have walked this far already," he said in a weak voice. "A few more steps won’t kill me."

The captain stayed silent, but James concerned said, "He’s in more danger alone out here."

"Who knows what kind of monster lives in the desolate land," a sailor said. "But it might hold some precious treasure." As he spoke, his eyes gleamed with gold. The rest of the crewmen laughed, and they let Rosacer follow.

With the Captain in the lead, the crewmen headed inside.

Rosacer trailed after them.

’Shouldn’t you leave a few people outside in case something goes wrong?’ he thought to himself, but chose not to mention it to the sailors.

Inside, the tower was cold. Rubble covered the floor, and moonlight slipped in through the broken roof, lighting the dust in the air.

The walls somewhat resembled those of the Karmic Catacombs dungeon, though they seemed far less dreadful.

Even though they stood still, there was something about them that felt fast. Rosacer couldn’t explain why that word came to mind, but it was the only way he could describe the walls as he saw them.

He also noticed that the scarred walls were probably the result of a fight.

He edged nearer to the walls while the crewmen began their own search.

Far away in the forest, the other sailors worked in silence. Every sound made them turn their heads. The trees were tall and twisted, their roots crawling across the ground like claws. They found good wood, but none of them felt safe.

Fea’s voice cut through the tense murmurs of the frightened sailors.

"I checked the woods, there are no monsters here," she said, hoping to ease their fear.

The rest of the sailors cast her suspicious glances. One leaned toward another and whispered, "Is she that person?" trying to disguise his voice.

"Yeah, Fea, the herbalist," came the quiet reply.

"So... she’s telling the truth?" he murmured, his words muffled by his hands. As if lowering his voice wasn’t enough, he timed the question with the sound of striking wood to cover it.

The other sailor stayed silent.

The third, who was with Fea, kept out of the conversation entirely. Unaware of the whispering nearby, he simply continued chopping wood, taking her words at face value.

Still, they couldn’t shake the feeling that something was moving just beyond their view.

Back at the tower, a sudden wind passed through the ruins. It carried a strange sound with it, low and unclear.

One sailor stiffened. "Did you hear that?"

Rosacer lowered his head, hiding the sharp look in his eyes.

"A wraith?" he wondered. Yet, upon closer inspection, he found no signs of paranormal activity around them. Still, the tower carried an unease, as though it were a place they should not linger in for long.

With the stairs collapsed, the crewmen had no way to climb higher, so their stay was bound to be brief regardless.

Because of that, he was not truly worried.

As evening came, both groups returned to the shore. The men from the forest carried timber, but their faces were pale. The ones who explored the ruins spoke little.

The Captain listened, then said, "We fix the ship before nightfall. No one walks alone. Whatever this island is, we deal with it after we leave."

Rosacer sat near the fire, hunched and quiet, looking like nothing more than a tired old man who had survived a storm.

But inside him, thoughts stormed more violently than the tempest they had survived.

Just before they were about to leave the tower, he caught a glimpse of it.

Near one corner of the crumbling stone stood a massive bulge, split by a narrow slit, the surface thick with moss. At first, he dismissed it as part of the ruin. Then, as they turned away, he saw it move.

In that instant, a deep realization struck him.

It was an eye.

His breath caught in his throat.

’Is the island itself a monster, he thought. And that tower its head.’

He let out a deep sigh, and while keeping his hands hidden, quickly pulled the rodents from the inventory and offered the carving knife’s seal its meal.

With that decided, he resolved to avoid the tower for now. Earlier, he had planned to return in the night, when everyone else lay fast asleep. Now, however, it seemed far wiser to keep his distance.

The crewmen and the Captain were already at work, repairing the damaged hull and railings, sealing every hole the storm had torn open.

Rosacer lingered nearby, offering help where he could, yet his eyes kept drifting back toward the tower’s silhouette against the darkened sky.

Still outside the Mist City, in the vast ocean, there was no concept of day or night. The thickness of the mist decided whether it was called day or night. While everyone rested, they never truly slept, using any kind of drug or relic to stay alive.

Rosacer had already found his own way to fight off sleep. He would deliberately inject the doll’s death mana into his veins, which would jolt his senses awake and keep him from drifting off. It was a harsher version of the pinching method used by those in the Mist City who couldn’t afford sleepless pills.

Fea used her powers to hasten the repair, helping the wood bind perfectly without the need for nails or adhesive. With everyone’s help, the ship was fully restored and ready to sail, the mist thinning at last as the long-awaited day arrived.

For the torn mast, Fea fashioned a new one from the thin bark of the island’s trees. The pieces were bound together with care, then hauled upright with ropes and hoisted into place using the ship’s pulleys.

The crewmen, exhausted to the bone, broke into cheers. James and a few of the other sailors even danced across the deck in celebration, their laughter carrying over the quiet water.

With that, the ship was ready to sail once more. The anchor was raised, and at the Captain’s order, the crew made haste to catch the wind.

Yet as the vessel began to move, the Captain’s eyes lingered on the tower they left behind. There was no greed in his gaze, only a strange pull, as though some unfinished calling tied him to the island. Perhaps it was nothing more than the whisper of adventure.

Rosacer, too, played the part of a weak and feeble man. He leaned on the railing as his eyes swept toward the distant tower. But unlike the Captain, a cold shiver ran through his spine.