Dorian's own abilities and current status were displayed like a game panel in his right eye, laid out clearly in The Celestial Compass, allowing him to swiftly plan his next steps.

"For now, enhancing my supernatural powers is the top priority.

Of the two innate abilities I can use without consuming any Spirituality:

Cognitive Override, despite having limitations and only working on lower-sequence supernatural beings currently, is an excellent life-saving skill.**

Weather Sense, is the kind of divine ability that sailors and navigators dream of having!*

But if I wish to escape or even seek vengeance, these two abilities alone are not enough.

I must quickly complete the initiation into a supernatural profession, at least securing one rank in a combat-based sequence to have some power to protect myself.

Moreover, I need to activate the entry gifted by the Compass—Historical Corrector.

And as it so happens, I have just the key item needed to complete to gain more power."

Thinking of this, Dorian raised his left hand, only to find that the family signet ring, which should have been on his index finger, was nowhere to be found!

However, noticing that even the sapphire buttons on his shirt cuffs were missing, he calmed down almost immediately.

"First, I was rescued by a merchant ship, then captured by pirates. Expecting them not to touch my belongings would be nothing more than a dream.

But no matter who took them, all the loot would end up on this pirate ship eventually."

After a brief moment of consideration, Dorian made up his mind.

"I need to find those personal items taken by the pirates, especially the family signet ring."

The supernatural power of the Crimsonvale family’s signet ring held the key to completing the Celestial Compass's requirements, ensuring protection for himself from the York family assasins and trackers.

Boarding the pirate ship and escaping Hastings waters quickly became inevitable.

The vast North Sea or the overseas colonies offered countless opportunities to anyone bold enough to take them.

With The Celestial Compass by his side, swift growth awaited by exploring uncharted lands in this burgeoning era of great voyages.

Instead of risking everything by joining the navy, other options were much more viable: mercenary, pirate, independent adventurer, or bounty hunter—all held potential.

Holding onto the intricate carvings on the stern gallery, Dorian climbed up silently.

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***

Meanwhile, in the kitchen on the lower deck of The Cannibal Shark, a young man wearing a white chef's hat stood at the cutting board, clutching a kitchen knife, staring blankly.

The young man stood in the kitchen, gripping the knife with trembling hands, his mind racing. He had shot the captain in the back during the fight—a desperate act to ensure his own survival. The captain's stubborn adherence to chivalric ideals had led them straight into the pirates' hands. And now, only he was left alive.

He wasn't a real chef. His skills were barely enough to satisfy the crude tastes of common sailors, and now he was expected to prepare a noble's feast for Blood-Eye Salman—a ruthless, powerful supernatural captain known for his unforgiving nature.

The thought of meeting Blood-Eye made him shiver. He eyed the porthole, wondering if escape was an option, but the swarming sharks outside suggested otherwise. Time was running out, and footsteps approached the kitchen door. His fate was sealed; either he impressed Blood-Eye or faced consequences too terrible to imagine.

"What should I do?!"

The young man paced nervously, the lower deck echoing with his footsteps.

It wasn’t hard to guess—this young man was the chef mentioned by the first mate, Bonecrusher Miles—the only crew member from The Pelican given a chance to survive.

But the condition was that he had to impress Blood-Eye Salman with his supposed experience of having served nobles in the past.

Unfortunately, he was nothing but a fraud.

Remembering the stories about Blood-Eye eating people alive like a cannibal, his face became drained of color.

He glanced around the kitchen, seeing no one paying attention to him, so he took up a knife and cautiously approached the porthole.

He was about to stick his head out to see if he could jump into the sea to escape.

But fear that the sharks that had eaten his companions might not be full yet made him pull his head back again, perfectly embodying cowardice.

As the seconds ticked away and footsteps approached from outside the kitchen, the young man finally steeled his nerves and carefully peeked out the porthole.

Suddenly, a hand as strong as an iron clamp seized his neck.

CRACK!

Without even a chance to beg, his neck was twisted without mercy.

Before his vision went black and his consciousness faded entirely, he heard an indifferent, chilling voice:

"Traitors deserve death."

It was Dorian, who had climbed up the pirate ship’s stern just in time to hear the final survivor from the merchant ship muttering to himself.

Without hesitation, Dorian acted.

Then, gripping the dead cook’s neck, he hauled the man's torso through the porthole.

Seeing the knife clutched in the cook's hand, Dorian knew that if he hadn’t acted decisively, he’d likely have been wounded.

Taking the knife, he cut a few deep wounds into the cook's body before throwing the corpse into the sea.

He watched until the man disappeared in the jaws of the sharks that had swarmed around, then climbed through the porthole into the kitchen.

Picking up the chef's hat that had fallen during the struggle, Dorian dusted it off and put it on.

His deep blue eyes shimmered with a sea-like light as his demeanor shifted completely, using his innate ability—Cognitive Override.

"For situations like this, Psychological Disguise seems like a more fitting name for this ability," he mused.

Looking at his hands, they were unchanged outwardly, but the image, name, and demeanor of the cook were all now imprinted onto him.

To anyone who looked, he was the cook, and Dorian had vanished from the world.

Just as someone born red-green colorblind cannot recognize their deficiency without being told, others saw only the illusion.

"This identity may not be of high rank—not like the first mate, second mate, helmsman, or gunnery officer—but it’s ideal for me, as a newcomer.

Since I wouldn’t have memories of any interactions with the pirates, I wouldn’t have to deal with relationships or suspicions.

It’s the perfect role for me to blend in with The Cannibal Shark and hitch a ride."

(Author's Note: Inner thoughts of characters and explanations from the System about abilities inside '[ ]'will be in an italicized style.)

BANG!

The kitchen door was suddenly thrown open, and a young pirate entered.

Seeing the man wearing the chef's hat, he paused for a moment before saying naturally:

"New cook, our great Blood-Eye captain is waiting for you. Come with me.

By the way, I never got your name."

Dorian adjusted his clothes and smiled kindly at the young pirate:

"Dorian. My name is Dorian Tudor."