"Hahaha! Captain, just don’t throw out your back when the ti cos."
"Keep your distance then."
"Aren’t we supposed to hide in barrels?"
"..."
"Scram, scram, scram! You bunch of scallywags." The old captain wasn’t angry; he laughed and cursed, "You lot don’t know, back in my day, I..."
Lance also relaxed a bit, a smile touching his lips as he watched this scene. Looking up at the departing warship, however, he knew he had one more thing to take care of once he returned.
Rebuilding the Navy.
Restoring Hamlet’s glory is our unshirkable duty!
Leaving the ship to the old captain, Lance went down to the cabins for inspection. He personally visited each room to show his face and let them know he was with them. He also inford them of so rules, approving their going out on deck for a look, with the conditions that they couldn’t disturb the crew’s work, children had to be accompanied by a parent, and roughhousing was forbidden.
Being in an enclosed space for a long ti can cause psychological stress. If it builds up without release, problems could arise, so he did this to prevent potential issues. Of course, Lance had an even simpler thod: he had arranged for those who could read to attend reading sessions in each cabin. This way, he could instill Hamlet’s rules, impart so basic knowledge, eliminate the influence of religion, and give them sothing to do.
He was surprised not to discover anything abnormal during his rounds; the subdued nature and resilience of these people astonished him. Lance didn’t know whether to praise the Empire for their conditioning or not, but for the mont, it was beneficial to him.
Exiting the lower cabins, the hopeful looks in those people’s eyes made Lance rub his temples. These two thousand people also weighed heavily on him; he could only hope that nothing would go wrong in Hamlet so he could fulfill his promise to them.
But now wasn’t the ti to dwell on that. Lance knew soone else was waiting for his reply.
"May I co in?" Lance knocked on the door.
There were quite a few rooms on the upper deck, enough to spare one or two. Boudica and Paracelsus were in one of them. After receiving an affirmative reply, Lance pushed the door open and entered.
The ship was designed as a cargo vessel, with space utilized to maximize cargo capacity. Consequently, the rooms were very small, and there was only a single bed. After stuffing in a few packages and two people, there was no more space left, not even enough room to stand.
Lance moved the casually tossed War Halberd aside and looked at Boudica, who was sprawled on the bed like a dead fish.
"Um... Boss, have we arrived yet?" Boudica turned her head, looking utterly disoriented.
"Dream on. We’ve just set sail. It’ll take at least four or five days."
"ARGH..."
Seeing this, Lance realized his oversight: Boudica, with her large fra, had completely monopolized the bed, while the petite doctor sat helplessly at its edge. "Alright, I’ll find you another place."
Lance ignored Boudica’s wails and moans, helped Paracelsus with her luggage, and took her to his own room. "This is my room. You can stay here for the next few days."
The space and furnishings were similar. Paracelsus entered, looking quite surprised. This person, clearly a noble, is staying in such a simple place? He doesn’t even have any luggage!
"Is there a problem?"
"Then where will you sleep?"
"I naturally have my own place to sleep." Lance walked in first, helped her set down her luggage, and then sat directly on the chair. "Now, we should talk."
At this, Paracelsus set aside her other thoughts and asked directly, "Is what you said before true?"
Lance was amused by her question and couldn’t resist teasing, "If you didn’t believe , why did you dare to co? Aren’t you afraid I’m deceiving you?"
Paracelsus adjusted her glasses, her expression calm. "The refugees’ eyes don’t lie; you are a trustworthy person. Besides, you had no reason to let go back then."
Observing her deanor, Lance couldn’t help but admire her. Such courage, or perhaps, pure rationality. No wonder she could conceive the idea of ’science’ under the dual oppression of religion and feudalism.
"Par..." Lance began, then paused, feeling awkward and frowning slightly. "Your na is a bit of a mouthful. If you don’t mind, may I call you Doctor?"
"Call whatever you like. I don’t mind."
"Miss Paracelsus." Lance chose the more familiar address without hesitation. "I’ve reviewed your research materials, and I know you wish to explore the mysteries of the human body."
He looked at her and continued only after she nodded. "My promise to you remains unchanged. I will provide you with research facilities and even offer you special assistance beyond your current understanding. However, the research results will belong to . Of course, the honor of the research itself will always be yours."
The doctor pondered for a mont but agreed without much hesitation.
"Agreed."
It was simple for her. She wanted to explore the mysteries of the human body and find the causes of diseases, which required more corpses. In the entire world, only this man could accommodate such a need. As for anything else—money, power, honor, or other matters—she had little interest.
Of course, that was rely her perspective. In reality, Lance knew there were many researchers among the Transcendents similar to her, so even more fanatical.
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