Chapter 155: Chapter 159: Who Isn’t Persecuting Whom
After the advent of the Deep Sea Era, the intelligent races that survived from the old world and established City-State civilizations were not solely humans—apart from humans, there were the Gyplo People, the Senkin People, and the Elves, three other species that existed in this world, each developing their own civilizations.
This was knowledge written in Nina’s textbooks, which Duncan had been familiar with for a long time, and he had been immensely interested in these “alien races” mentioned in the textbooks, particularly the Elves—a race always featured in various fantasy tales and surrounded by an aura of mystery, and truly existing in this world, sparking his curiosity to no end.
Nina’s textbook illustrations had once depicted the appearance of Elves to Duncan; the image showed them with long, pointed ears and slim figures—so beautiful they were, indeed, indistinguishable as male or female.
This directly established his initial impression of the “Elves” in this world: a species with lifespans reaching a thousand years, universally attractive, elegant, and mysterious.
However, in this superficial initial perception, he had never sketched what millennia-old Elves might look like as they aged… He hadn’t even considered that this race would exhibit the changes in appearance that come with aging, just as humans do.
But now he knew that his understanding of the “Elves” in this world was far too superficial.
The owner of the “Rose Doll House” was an Elf, a plump, kind-faced old Elf lady—aside from the signature pointed ears and green pupils, and the traces of beauty that could vaguely be discerned from her youth, she looked no different from an ordinary elderly lady next door.
Staring at others is impolite.
Duncan quickly realized this and hurriedly withdrew his excessively curious gaze, awkwardly touching his chin, “This is my first time seeing an Elf.”
He wasn’t worried that his “ignorant rusticity” would reveal anything, because it was indeed rare to see Elves in the Plunder City-State.
Each major race had its own City-State, and because travel was inconvenient in the Deep Sea Era, most citizens seldom left their homeland throughout their lives, with only the brave ocean explorers and merchants shuttling between City-States—and they were merely passers-by, almost never settling down in a different race’s City-State—this was the same for all major City-States, where over ninety-nine percent of the residents were the “dominant race.”
Someone who lived in their own City-State and rarely ventured out might never encounter an “alien race” individual living on the opposite side of the city in their entire life.
“It’s quite normal,” the old Elf lady chuckled, “There are probably not even a hundred Elves in this city, including those dozen or so who have holed up at the mathematics research institute for two hundred years and never venture out—can I help you with anything?”
Hearing the old woman’s reminder, Duncan remembered his original purpose and looked back at the dolls crammed into the display windows, counters, and stair spaces, while pondering and speaking, “I would like to buy some doll-related items, and if possible, I’d also like to ask some questions about dolls… but I was overwhelmed as soon as I came in.”
“Oh, it seems you are a ‘novice’,” nodded the old lady, “Are they female dolls? Are they part of your own collection, or…”
“Female, my own ‘collection’,” Duncan replied offhand, but as soon as he finished speaking, he felt there was something odd about it and involuntary twitched the corner of his mouth, “This hobby isn’t strange, is it?”
He had been better off not asking, but once he did, it felt even stranger…
“Of course not, collecting and taking care of dolls is a hobby of taste,” the old lady didn’t react much, probably the confidence of one who has seen much after running a centuries-old shop, “Are you looking to buy some clothes or accessories for your doll?”
Duncan thought for a moment, “Let’s start with a wig…”
“Over here,” the old lady led Duncan towards a corner of the shop, while continuing to ask, “What size is your doll? Quarter size? Or third size?”
Duncan: “… it’s the same size as a real person.”
The old lady’s steps involuntarily paused, and she turned around, “That’s… quite rare. A life-sized doll? That must be quite valuable, I imagine?”
“… Actually, I’m not quite sure how much she ‘is worth’,” Duncan tried to keep a straight face while fighting off the awkward feeling inside, “She was a gift from someone…”
“Well, it sounds like you have a very generous friend,” the old lady smiled, opening a wooden chest near the circular counter and placing its contents onto the nearby countertop, “Life-sized dolls are rare and so are their accessories, all here—there are wigs and also hair ornaments.”
Duncan coughed twice and leaned in while muttering under his breath, “I don’t know whether he’s generous or not, he’s just a captain… It’s a complicated matter.”
His gaze fell on the items the elderly woman had brought out.
Exquisitely crafted and well-maintained, they were clearly the product of considerable effort by the creator.
He carefully selected, all the while imagining how Alice would look wearing these items, then he found he couldn’t continue the thought.
… The idea that the elegant, beautiful, and mysterious cursed doll would one day go bald and have to rely on wigs was just too much cognitive dissonance, even he found it almost unbearable.
And this was an idea he had come up with himself.
But Duncan quickly steeled his resolve, operating on the principle that since he had started the torment, he might as well go all the way…
He picked out a splendid golden wig with matching silver hair accessories.
Yes, silver hair accessories—as a luxury item accessible only to high society, nothing about the doll’s paraphernalia was cheap!
Looking at the wig set before him, Duncan couldn’t help but imagine how Alice might react to these gifts… The simpleton might burst into tears, or she might turn and run, just like anyone facing their fate in terms of hair volume, a mental adjustment process was needed. But no matter how Alice would react in the end, he himself was beginning to feel quite pleased now.
During the selection process, he casually inquired, “By the way, could I ask about some doll maintenance issues?”
“Of course,” replied the kindly old woman with a smile, “dolls do require meticulous care.”
“It’s just… what should I do if the doll’s joints are frequently loose?” Duncan asked, gesturing as he organized his words, “It’s mainly the neck and head connection, the ball joint. For some reason it has loosened, and the head keeps falling off.”
“Wear and deformation of the ball and socket can cause joint looseness—if it is not due to neglect or rough treatment later on, it must be that the initial design or materials were inadequate,” the elderly woman immediately responded. “If it has reached the point where it frequently falls off, ordinary repairs won’t do much. You might consider replacing the joint altogether.”
She paused, then added, “However, replacing joints for large dolls isn’t easy. You probably won’t be able to do it yourself, you could bring the doll here, and I could help with the replacement—just charging for the parts.”
After hearing this, Duncan thought it didn’t sound quite reliable.
Alice’s “guillotine” ability was secondary; the main issue was that Abnormality 099 wasn’t an ordinary doll! Could her joints even be replaced?
If he mentioned going into the City-State for surgery, needing to disassemble the whole neck and put in a new one, she might just run off…
So Duncan glossed over the topic and instead began inquiring about techniques for doll hair implantation…
The shop owner lady patiently explained many things to him, and after finishing, she added, “… From what you say, your doll comes with her own hair. For such dolls, retouching or adding more hair later on is difficult to perfect unless done by the creator themselves. Plus, you said her head joint is also problematic. I suggest you simply order a new head sculpture…”
Duncan: “…”
The shop owner lady remained enthusiastic, “Looking at your reaction, you seem hesitant? Don’t worry, our shop is known for excellent craftsmanship, and for hundreds of years, we have never disappointed a customer—there hasn’t been a single complaint from our regulars…”
Duncan thought to himself that the old lady’s “regulars” probably couldn’t even be found in the bones now, let alone come to complain, but obviously, he couldn’t say that out loud, so he could only smile awkwardly and made up an excuse to brush it off, “That’s not exactly the issue… it’s just, if the head is replaced, then she wouldn’t be the same, right?”
He said it off the cuff, but to his surprise, the old lady’s eyes lit up, and her smile became even more genuine, “Ah, your way of thinking is quite remarkable. Many people treat dolls merely as objects and, even if they cherish them, few would consider them as you do.”
Duncan suddenly felt a bit embarrassed, “Ahem, that makes me feel a little guilty now…”
“I’m telling the truth,” the old lady sighed, “Dolls need to be cared for attentively. The moment they are given human form, they should not be treated as inanimate any longer. There’s this saying among puppeteers—that dolls given meticulous care have their own souls. You should even believe they possess their own joys and sorrows…”
At that moment, in Duncan’s mind emerged the image of Alice’s harmlessly chuckling “heh heh,” and he nodded vigorously, “You’re right, you’re right.”