Chapter 726: Shirley Dog

In a realm where shattered islands floated aimlessly, bathed in a stagnant glow from distant stars, Dog and Shirley found themselves at the very brink of one such island. They settled there, their minds drifting into a tranquil state of introspection.

From Shirley's arm, a sinister chain stretched out, its links merging with the shattered black bones that encased her limb, anchoring itself into Dog's neck. Through this peculiar chain, the thoughts and emotions of the two beings intertwined, exchanging fragments of sanity and humanity. This silent communion had been their reality for the past twelve years.

They had an abundance of experiences and thoughts to share. In the fleeting, adrenaline-charged moments after the chain's unexpected breaking, these two companions, who had relied on each other for over a decade, were suddenly confronted with a myriad of unforeseen challenges and revelations. Shirley, typically disinclined to self-reflection, found herself pondering the profound mysteries of existence during these moments.

They were also compelled to confront the dramatic shift in their relationship. Their new dynamic as a "guardian dog" and a "contracted human" was not only a radical change for them but was something that would undoubtedly shock and confound anyone else who learned of it.

Meanwhile, Duncan chose not to intrude on their moment, instead leading Alice to a secluded spot further away from the edge of the floating island. As they waited, they seized the opportunity to explore the bizarre, unsettling landscape of this so-called "abyssal deep sea."

A profound silence enveloped the area. Under the dim, starlit sky, the land was barren, devoid of any signs of life.

This desolate place was once a thriving hub for deep, enigmatic demons. However, fearing defeat and harm, they had long since evacuated, leaving behind an eerie landscape dotted with peculiar black rocks and the looming silhouettes of distant, jagged formations.

To Duncan, if not for his awareness that he was in the "abyssal deep sea," he might have believed he was stranded on a desolate, alien planet. The lifeless terrain, coupled with the motionless, oppressive starry sky above, created an environment that was anything but welcoming.

"Considering that the typical inhabitants of this area are a multitude of aggressive demons, known for their brutal habits of gnawing on each other, rocks, and being gnawed upon in turn, the notion of this place being inhabitable is far-fetched." Duncan, musing aloud, expressed his skepticism about the Four Divine Church's strategy to colonize this harsh, unforgiving environment.

He pondered the ethical and philosophical implications of such a plan, questioning whether a community that could survive and potentially thrive in such a brutal, unrecognizable setting could still be deemed a 'human civilization.'

Alice, meanwhile, seemed to process his words, but her understanding appeared partial, not fully grasping the gravity of Duncan's reflections. Nevertheless, she adapted remarkably well to the bleak surroundings, her enthusiasm undiminished by the stark, dim landscape. She excitedly ran off to pick up a uniquely shaped stone, eagerly presenting her find to Duncan with childlike wonder, exclaiming, "Captain! Look, look, a stone!"

Snapping out of his contemplative state, Duncan turned his attention to the stone with a serious, thoughtful gaze, inquiring, "What's special about this stone?"

"Don't you think it looks like Goathead from the side?" she asked with a laugh, her face glowing with pride. "I noticed it right away!"

Duncan, taken aback by her observation, could only respond with a silent, puzzled stare.

In the meantime, Alice, brimming with enthusiasm, scurried over to the nearby jagged, bizarre rocks. She excitedly unearthed several objects and presented them to Duncan with glee. "And these, don't they look like tree branches?" she exclaimed.

Duncan examined the objects in Alice's hands. Throughout their journey, they had encountered numerous similar items. They resembled thin, leafless branches, possibly from shrubs that might grow in the crevices of rocks. The branches, with their gray-white patterning, lacked any foliage, giving them an odd and distinctive look.

To the untrained eye, these objects could easily be mistaken for some exotic type of plant life native to the abyssal deep sea.

However, Alice nonchalantly snapped one of the branches, revealing its true nature as she pointed to the freshly exposed cross-section. "Look, this is also stone," she declared.

Intrigued, Duncan took the broken piece from Alice, scrutinizing its cross-section. It appeared brittle, cleanly broken, sharing the same texture as the black and gray rocks scattered around them. Under the dim starlight, he noticed a faint shimmer reflecting off the cross-section, reminiscent of very fine metallic dust or fibers embedded within.

As Duncan pondered this discovery, he gazed up at the vast expanse overhead, where large and small shattered islands floated in the starlit void. Some were nearly as vast as the largest city-states of the Boundless Sea, while others were merely oversized rocks. A commonality among these floating islands was their structure: the lower halves formed neatly shaped discs, with stalactite-like formations hanging beneath, and large, indistinct structures connecting these formations, seemingly supporting the islands' bases.

This sight brought to Duncan's mind the "Mirror Island" he had encountered at the bottom of the Cold Sea. That desolate, primitive black mirror island floating underwater bore a striking resemblance to these shattered islands. It too was covered with similar black stones, intermingled with a metallic texture.

The similarities were undeniable.

Duncan reflected on the implications of this discovery. If the humanoid figures made of black mud encountered earlier were like "rough drafts of people," then perhaps the dark, primitive Mirror Island at the bottom of the Cold Sea represented a "rough draft of a city-state." And here, in the abyssal deep sea, they seemed to be surrounded by "rough drafts of city-states."

Could these be the primitive materials used by the Nether Lord during the Third Long Night, Duncan wondered. Or, alternatively, might they be the "semi-finished products" of the many islands scattered across the Boundless Sea?

If indeed these were all just unfinished creations of a grander scheme, then it was clear that the Nether Lord's ambitions for constructing these "shelters" were far more extensive than anyone could have imagined. Envisioned were more islands, an expansion of city-states, a vast expanse of habitable space, a wealth of resources, and perhaps, even the original concept for the Boundless Sea was meant to be significantly larger than what was known to the current world.

Yet, now, these incomplete creations merely drifted silently in this dimension, resembling a forgotten prison, lost to the flow of time and ignored by both the mortal realm and the deities. The only semblance of life and activity here came from the chaotic, dim-witted demons, who perpetuated a pointless cycle of material exchange and a semblance of "balance" through their never-ending conflicts.

Duncan's contemplative silence was abruptly interrupted by approaching footsteps. He looked up and saw two towering figures making their way towards him—one was Shirley, still in her demon form, and the other was Dog, who appeared to have regained his mental composure.

"It looks like you two have finished talking," Duncan said, taking the initiative to break the silence as he approached them.

Dog, with a polite nod, acknowledged Duncan's patience. "Thank you for the time," he said, his voice carrying a note of gratitude. "I hope this didn't cause any delay."

"We still have plenty to do—but a few minutes here or there won't make a difference," Duncan replied nonchalantly. He carefully observed Shirley and Dog, focusing more on Shirley since Dog's skeletal visage offered little in the way of readable expressions. "You both seem to be in good spirits. Did you discuss future plans? Specifically, about your new contract relationship... the unique situation of a demon summoning a contracted human," he inquired, feeling an odd sensation in his heart as he spoke these words.

To Duncan's surprise, both Shirley and Dog seemed remarkably unfazed by the mention of their unusual situation. Dog even shrugged it off nonchalantly. "It's not a big deal. Shirley and I both think it doesn't really change much for us..."

Alice, who had been listening nearby, showed a clear expression of surprise. "No impact?"

"Yes," Dog replied calmly, "It's always been Shirley who rushes headfirst into things, and I'm there to keep her in check, to prevent any trouble. You said something like... Oh, Dog walking the human. This has been our way of life for over a decade, and really, it's no different now."

Hearing this, Duncan and Alice exchanged a glance. After a brief pause, they both said simultaneously, "Seems like it..."

Shirley, overhearing this exchange, appeared visibly embarrassed, her head almost sinking into her chest. "Let's not talk about this, okay... I'm not that impulsive..." she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Duncan internally disagreed with her self-assessment. Ever since the day she first wielded the chain and flung Dog into battle, her relationship with impulsiveness had been unmistakably clear...

Though trivial, this unexpected turn in their conversation relieved Duncan since Shirley and Dog appeared to be genuinely indifferent to the changes in their contractual relationship, sparing him from unnecessary concerns.

With a slight bow of her head, Shirley glanced towards Dog, who was still connected to her by the chain. She gently shook her arm, causing the chain to emit a soft, rustling sound. This chain, a symbol of their enduring bond, made the distinctions between them seem inconsequential. Who was human, who was demon, whose humanity was shared, and whose heart beat in whose chest - such questions paled in comparison to their simple, enduring reality. They were "Shirley and Dog," and that unchanging fact was all that truly mattered - their togetherness was their essence.

Breaking the brief silence, Duncan coughed twice, drawing attention back to the matter at hand. He looked up at Shirley, who now stood nearly three meters tall, her form supported by skeletal limbs. "So, there's only one other question," he began, "Can you change back to your original form now?"

"Yes," Shirley nodded promptly, her face betraying a hint of hesitation. "After the chain was restored, Dog and I 'sensed' how to regain control over our bodies, but there's a catch..."

Duncan looked puzzled. "Only what?"

"There's a bit of a side effect..." Dog interjected in a low tone.

At his words, Shirley began the transformation process to revert to her human form. Amidst a symphony of bones cracking and reshaping, accompanied by a cloud of dust, her size rapidly diminished, returning her to a normal human stature and shape within seconds. The fearsome black bone shards and spikes withdrew into her body, and her mature face reverted to its familiar form, with one notable exception - her eyes, now glowing a deep, blood-red.

She lifted her gaze to Duncan, her eyes awash with the eerie red light, conveying a sense of helplessness. "The characteristics of demonification can't be removed. Dog can revert to his previous form easily - it's just a matter of shrinking down. But no matter what I do, I can't change my eyes back. They just look... wrong."

Duncan, observing her new appearance, offered an objective viewpoint. "...Actually, they're quite amazing," he commented.

Shirley hesitated for a moment before sighing, a hint of resignation in her voice. "Ah... well, I'll just close my eyes when I go into the city in the future. Anyway, I can still see with my eyes closed now."