Charles handed back the piece of human skin to the bandaged man and said to him, "So you're a postman now. Will you still board the Unicorne?"
"I want to come back... but... mother doesn't want me to... I need to think about it..."
Hearing this, Charles felt a slight sense of loss, but he managed a nonchalant smile on his face. "No problem, whether you come or not, I respect your decision. The Unicorne has changed several crews. Some died, some retired, and almost every other position has seen new faces. Now it seems it's your turn as the first mate."
The bandaged man's young face showed a stiff smile. "Then I'll go... deliver letters..."
"Now that we have telegraphs, do so many people still write letters to communicate?"
"Telegraph... charged by word count... expensive..." Having said that, the bandaged man pedaled off on his bicycle towards the heart of the island.
