Alexandria's Keeper - Lord of the Mysteries

The morning sun stretched across the horizon, tinting the sky with the soft hues of dawn.

Irina and Klein found themselves in the second-class buffet cafeteria—hardly the most well-stocked, but decent enough for a quick meal. They both settled for two slices of toast with butter, accompanied by bacon and a cup of lemon tea.

As she had the previous night in the tavern, Irina lowered her scarf just enough to reveal her mouth, still keeping the lace over her upper face. Her identity remained a mystery for whoever looked at her.

The food was passable, though nothing worth savoring. At least the tea is decent.

Once finished, they made their way to the deck, letting the fresh sea breeze wash over them as they admired the early-morning scenery. The horizon stretched endlessly before them, golden waves crashing against the ship under the sun's light.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, Irina caught sight of Captain Elland—clearly returning from a long night. His sword swayed at his side as he walked. How responsible, she thought dryly, spent the whole night out? He really is a man of the sea.

Klein, on the other hand, seemed more amused than judgmental. Watching the staggering—clearly drunk—captain. As he got closer, Klein reigned in his facial expression and spoke with a light tone. "Good morning. White Shark didn't cause you any trouble, did he? I assume he's smart enough to realize I'm just a passenger on the White Agate."

Elland, dressed in a dark red coat, took off his ship-shaped hat and chuckled. "Ah, this is his own problem. He wanted you to cover half the repair costs for the bar counter, but it wasn't much—just a few soli. I happened to win six pounds last night, so I threw in some extra as a tip, and that was the end of it."

Klein was silent for a few moments, and Irina, standing at his side, was similarly unbothered. He eventually nodded. "I understand."

Without another word, they turned back toward the bow, leaving behind a quiet but sincere, "Thank you."

Irina let the sea breeze wash over her as she returned to her original. The quiet moments of peace were rare, and she enjoyed them while they lasted—she knew, soon the chaos would be back.

Two familiar figures suddenly appeared beside them—Donna and Denton. A few steps behind them stood Cecile, the one tasked with protecting them for the day.

Donna looked exhausted. Her eyes were puffy and her face was gloomy. She was clearly trying to imitate Klein's composed demeanor as she gazed out at the sea, though the way her eyes darted around betrayed her curiosity.

Denton, mirroring her, had just opened his mouth to speak when Donna beat him to it. "Uncle, w-who was that last night?"

Her voice was quiet, but her body trembled slightly with the memory still fresh in her mind.

Last night—oh. Irina blinked. Azik's messenger. Right. When we were heading back, Klein got a letter, and those two happened to see the way-too-tall skeleton...

To be fair, she had been far too preoccupied with the danger of the blood moon to care at the time.

"It was a messenger," Klein answered smoothly, his tone as casual as if he were discussing breakfast. "You can think of him as a postman."

Denton's reaction was immediate. "A messenger?" his voice nearly cracked with disbelief.

Klein remained unbothered. "The world is vast—there are bound to be strange creatures here and there. Trust me, although this creature looks very ferocious and terrifying, it's actually very gentle and professional... it just sent me a letter on behalf of a friend who's far away."

Bro. Is he seriously trying to describe that four-meter-tall skeletal, soul-burning horror as pitiful, weak, and helpless?

Donna, having calmed down, now looked intrigued. Her eyes sparkled, "That's amazing! It's like something out of a story!"

"Very cool!" Denton added enthusiastically.

Then, with a puzzled frown, he asked, "But why didn't anyone else see him? No one reacted at all!"

Klein smiled. "That's because your hearts are pure."

That, and the special cured meat you ate... Irina added silently, quite amused.

Donna hesitated before whispering, "C-can we have a messenger of our own?" she asked with a mix of curiosity and excitement.

"That depends on luck," Klein replied simply.

Irina bit back a laugh. He still doesn't have one himself.

Donna, undeterred, nodded eagerly. "Yeah. Yeah."

Then, as if they had just made a sacred pact, she lowered her voice even further. "Uncle, we'll keep this a secret for you."

Beside her, Denton nodded solemnly, his expression serious.

Before Klein could respond, the calm of the deck was broken by the arrival of a new passenger boarding from Damir Harbor. Irina's eyes drifted toward the figure confidently striding onto the deck, suitcase in hand.

And then she nearly sighed aloud.

Please... please, someone teach this man the art of subtlety. He's ridiculous. He's more of a clown than Klein was! Come on, Danitz, is that your BEST?!

Blazing Danitz, in all his brilliance, had decided to cut his holiday short and await orders at the capital of the Rorsted Archipelago. Through his own 'ingenious' methods, he had secured a ticket, donned a wig, darkened his eyebrows with a thick black pencil, and strolled aboard the White Agate—thinking of himself as inconspicuous.

Sigh. Danitz mused, as Emperor Roselle said, 'Capable people always have to do a little bit more work...'

The pirate moved toward the cabin, surveying his surroundings with an air of forced leisure. And then—his gaze landed on two painfully familiar figures.

One was a young adventurer in a dark coat, the hem high just enough to reveal the unmistakable signs of pirate clothing underneath. The other wore a black coat, exuding an air of gentleness that barely concealed the madness he knew was lurking beneath. He stood at the bow, smiling at Danitz like a gentleman greeting an old friend.

The muscles in Danitz's face visibly stiffened.

Meanwhile, Klein, upon spotting a pirate worth 3,000 pounds boarding the ship in a laughable disguise, immediately grew alert. Yet, his expression betrayed nothing but polite amusement.

Turning to Donna and Denton, he smiled. "I've got a friend."

With practiced ease, he and Irina moved toward Rear Admiral Iceberg's fourth boatswain, his eyes locking onto him like a hunting hound who had just found his prey.

Run. Every instinct in Danitz's body screamed at him. Run as fast as you can! Use your Beyonder's powers, expose your identity if you must, but get off this ship now!

His fingers twitched, his muscles twisted in preparation—then he stopped. His rational mind shoved its way through the fear, bringing him back to reality. Wait. He didn't attack me last night. He let me go.

That meant something.

Danitz gulped, forcing himself to stay put. He doesn't necessarily want to kill me. He can be reasoned with. Running would just escalate things...

He gritted his teeth and eased his stance, doing everything in his power to appear calm and casual—though anyone looking closely could probably see the beads of sweat forming at his temple.

Irina walked beside Klein, her hands tucked lazily into her coat pockets. The seer offered a pleasant smile. "Good morning. We meet again."

Something about that tone sent a shudder down Danitz's spine. He swallowed and forced a stiff nod. "Good morning."

He didn't bother with niceties, immediately getting to the point. "What are you doing on this ship?"

Danitz hesitated before answering honestly. "Heading to the Rorsted Archipelago."

"Why?" Klein asked, just as flatly.

Danitz forced a smile. "Waiting for my captain's orders. Maybe I'll be assigned a mission."

He's going to kick me off, isn't he? The realization dawned on Danitz with a strange mix of relief and frustration. That wouldn't be too bad. At worst, I'd lose a ticket.

But Klein didn't respond right away. Instead, he just... stared.

Danitz felt his hair stand on end.

Seconds passed. Five, six—each one stretching unbearably.

Then Klein finally spoke. "Which cabin?"

"First class, Room 312," Danitz said automatically, lifting his ticket as proof.

I can finally sleep in a decent room! Irina cheered internally, already looking forward to the upgrade.

Klein nodded indiscernibly. "Is there a servant room?"

"Yes," he subconsciously answered with his heart at a loss. He had no idea why the man would pose such a question to him.

Klein gave the barest of nods. "You'll sleep there."

Danitz blinked. "Huh?" Ah? Where? I'll be sleeping in the servant's room? Aren't you going to chase me off the ship? Danitz was somewhat stunned as he blurted out, "Why?"

He met his gaze, his tone utterly detached. "Hostage."

The word crashed into Danitz's brain like a cannonball.

Hostage? Oh. Oh. So that was the angle. Klein suspected him of being a planted agent—someone meant to pave the way for the pirate fleet. Keeping him on board as leverage made sense.

Dogshit! Cold, arrogant bastards like him are the worst. They never explained things properly, just threw out a single word and left everyone else to do mental gymnastics.

Danitz clenched his jaw. I hate him already.

"Fine," he exhaled helplessly.

Klein gestured toward the cabins. "To your room."

The pirate grumbled under his breath but led the way, suitcase in hand. He guided them to the upper deck and unlocked Room 312.

The first-class cabin was leagues above second-class. Thirty square meters of living space, a mahogany desk, a separate bathroom, and three adjoining servant rooms.

Danitz put down his suitcase and glanced at those rooms. He suddenly thought of an important question. "Is the master bedroom going to be left empty just like that?"

The moment he finished speaking, he realized he already knew the answer.

"It won't be yours," Klein said, smiling in a gentleman-like fashion.

As expected, to watch over me... Danitz couldn't help but feel depressed.

While pointing at the door Klein spoke again. "Come with us downstairs."

Danitz blinked. "...what?"

But Klein was already moving.

Resigned to his fate, he trailed after them, his confusion growing as they arrived in front of a second-class cabin.

Klein stopped, opened the door, and pointed inside. "Pack the things on the desk into the suitcase."

Danitz stared at him.

What.

For a long moment, his brain refused to process the words.

Then it hit him.

Did he just order me to pack his things?

The fury came fast. I am Blazing Danitz. Rear Admiral Iceberg's fourth boatswain. A famous pirate worth 3,000 pounds. I do not—

Klein looked at him.

Danitz's body instinctively trembled.

He clenched his jaw, forcing out a grimace that could barely be called a smile. "Alright."

Suppressing every ounce of wounded pride, he stomped into the room and began packing everything with meticulous precision and unwanted efficiency.

Klein, meanwhile, turned to Irina, nudging his head toward Danitz as if asking a silent question.

Irina blinked, momentarily distracted. She had been busy picturing which kind of maid outfit would suit Danitz best. Something with lace, maybe? Or would a frilly apron be enough?

Wait, focus.

She frowned slightly, trying to decipher Klein's silent question. Is he asking if Danitz should do the same for me?

To confirm, she raised a hand and motioned from her head to toe, then gestured toward Danitz, who was still dutifully at work.

Klein inclined his head in agreement.

Irina started to shrug but paused. Hold on—why should I do the work if he's available?

Her expression shifted to one of agreement before realizing her entire head was covered. She stopped and then nodded enthusiastically instead.

A small smile formed on his face before he completely wiped it away, immediately turning back to Danitz.

By then, the pirate had just finished his task. He snapped the suitcase shut and stood up, giving Klein a wary glance. Without a word, he gestured for him to follow, leading him to another second-class cabin.

Danitz's stomach dropped. Don't tell me...

Sure enough, Klein stopped at another door not too far away and pointed inside. "Pack those, too."

Danitz opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"... alright."

Irina barely contained a laugh. Bless my past self for already packing my underwear and bras away. I understand keeping a cold and detached image... but having a pirate rummage through those types of clothes is a level of awkwardness I don't want to reach.

When Danitz finally—finally—finished, he stood with both suitcases in hand and his dignity in shambles.

Back in Room 312, he swallowed his pride and muttered, "How should I address you two?"

"Gehrman Sparrow," Klein responded succinctly.

In an similar manner, Irina followed suit. "Elena Jeager."

Blazing Danitz mulled over the names, committing them to memory. Gehrman Sparrow and Elena Jeager... He swore he wouldn't forget what had happened today. One day, I'll make this man experience something just as humiliating! Captain will definitely help me, he thought, almost consoling himself.

Irina watched as Klein, ever committed to his persona, chose the hard wooden chair. With a small, satisfied but silent hum, she made her way toward the more comfortable reclining seat, settling in it as though she belonged there.

Klein leaned back slightly, hands clasped together, and turned his attention to Danitz. "Tell me about the famous pirates you know."

Danitz hesitated. "There are a lot of them..." He scratched the back of his head, feeling somewhat confused.

He remained standing, stiff as a board, like a servant awaiting orders.

Klein's lips curled upward ever so slightly. "List them according to their bounties."

With a casual gesture, he pointed to the chair opposite them. "Sit."

Danitz nearly sighed in relief as he hurried to comply, the rigid tension in his legs finally dissipating. At the very least, he has the decency to offer a seat!

The White Agate sailed through the open sea at a steady 13 knots, the gentle rise and fall of the waves crashed against the ship, making Irina's ears twitch from time to time.

By noon, Blazing Danitz—his mouth dry from relentless talking—was finally granted a break. With a mix of resignation and irritation, he led Klein and Elena to the first-class dining restaurant.

The restaurant was very elegant, with violinists playing softly in the corner and barriers placed between tables to provide customers with a sense of privacy. The atmosphere was refined—an air of luxury that second-class passengers could only dream of.

As they walked in, they encountered Donna's family and Cleves, seated at a large table, waiting for their meal.

"Uncle Sparrow! Aunty Jeager!" Denton chirped, waving enthusiastically. The secret they shared had altered how he addressed them, adding a layer of familiarity.

Donna, on the other hand, blinked in confusion, her brows knitting together. Uncle Sparrow and Aunty Jeager were supposed to be in second class. How are they here?

Klein merely smiled and raised a hand in greeting before nodding toward Danitz. "He's treating."

The man in question stiffened. What? When did I agree to that?!

"Is that so..." Donna eyed Danitz with barely concealed curiosity, noting his awkward posture and, most noticeably, his highly unnatural-looking eyebrows.

Cleves set down his fork and knife, studying the newcomer for a long moment before breaking the silence. "Your friend?"

Klein turned slightly, casting a sidelong glance at Danitz. "What do you think the answer should be?"

The pirate felt a muscle in his jaw twitch. Forcing a smile, he muttered, "Gehrman once saved me."

Yes, that's right. If he repeated that to himself enough, maybe it would sound less pathetic. Otherwise, I'd already be dead, claimed for the bounty.

Irina barely managed to suppress a laugh, disguising it with a subtle adjustment of her coat.

Cleves gave Danitz another long look before seemingly deciding not to pursue the matter any further. Without another word, he turned back to his meal.

Passing by Donna's family, Klein led them to a table by the window. In a clear display of gentlemanly behavior, he pulled out a chair for Irina before seating himself.

Danitz frowned slightly, watching the motion with confusion. Why is he doing that? It didn't seem to fit the ruthless and crazy image Gehrman had.

Still, he shrugged and only sat once Klein did, unwilling to risk angering him with another mistake.

A waiter approached them, handing them menus.

The pirate scanned the options, mumbling to himself. "Charcoal steak, red wine foie gras, vegetable salad..." He couldn't help but sigh, "Ships that dock for resupply every two to three days have it good—plenty of fresh food. But when you're stuck at sea for one or two weeks?" He scoffed. "Beer, cured meat, canned goods. It's so monotonous it'll drive you mad. Of course, the sea itself provides food, but you need good judgment." He chuckled, a sly grin creeping onto his face. "We had this one sailor—caught a beautiful lobster. But after eating it, he had diarrhea so bad his ass nearly—"

He abruptly stopped, catching Gehrman Sparrow's pointed stare. A cold sweat prickled at the back of his neck.

Danitz cleared his throat and corrected himself. "—suffered diarrhea until his ass nearly fell off."

Irina completely ignored him, ordering a dish she was certain she'd enjoy. Klein, in contrast, took the menu, traced a neat line down the page, and handed it back. "All of these."

The waiter's expression remained unchanged. "Understood."

As their order was confirmed, Captain Elland entered the dining room, passing by with a nod of acknowledgment. Klein and Irina greeted him briefly before refocusing on their table.

Danitz, however, turned his head toward the window, suddenly engrossed in the scenery.

Klein's gaze shifted toward him. "The captain knows you?"

The pirate let out a hollow chuckle. "We clashed once. Back when he was the boatswain of the Wilhelm V. Besides... I'm quite a famous pirate."

You'll be a famous maid very, very soon~ Irina thought to herself, resting her chin in her palm.

Danitz, drowning in self-pity, hastily changed the subject. "I've always wondered—why did Just Elland suddenly quit the Navy? By then, he was already an Arbiter."

Klein, unbothered, idly examined the cutlery on the table. "So what?"

The poorly disguised man inhaled sharply, forcing a grin. Do you even know how to make conversation?!

Still, he pressed on. "Haha, just found it strange. We all suspected he had joined MI9 and was using his identity as a captain to monitor the sea routes."

Irina, half-immersed in her meal, swirled the wine in her glass and took another sip. Danitz, man... I'm not sure if I should pity you or laugh... maybe both.

As the dessert was about to be served, the dining room's atmosphere was suddenly shattered by the sound of heavy boots pounding against the floor. A crewman rushed in, breathless, heading straight for Captain Elland's table.

"Captain, there's a pirate ship!" he announced loudly, his voice cutting through the gentle hum of conversation like a blade.

A wave of unease spread through the restaurant. Cutlery clinked against plates as passengers froze mid-bite. A few gasps echoed around the room before an eerie silence settled in.

Klein looked up from his plate, his gaze shifting to the pirate sitting across the table, eyes dark and unreadable.

Blazing Danitz stiffened, then let out a bitter laugh. Leaning slightly forward, he lowered his voice. "If I were to say that this has nothing to do with me, would you believe me?"

Klein's eyelids twitched slightly before a slow, unsettling smile curved his lips. "Guess."

'Guess'? You son of a bitch! Danitz clenched his jaw, suppressing the urge to snap.

Instead, he forced a pleasant smile. "Your wisdom is enough to judge everything."

At the seer's side, Irina remained unfazed, her eyes drifting to the window as she took another sip of her wine. The sea stretched endlessly beyond the glass.

Meanwhile, Elland wasted no time. He absorbed the information quickly, then stood, addressing the first-class passengers calmly yet authoritatively. "There's only one pirate ship. We have enough power to deal with it."

His voice was steady, cutting through the lingering tension. "Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your rooms in an orderly manner and await good news. Believe me, the damage caused by chaos far exceeds whatever damage those pirates can do. I don't wish to hear rumors in the future that, while the White Agate successfully repelled the attack, a handful of passengers injured themselves in a panic."

With the aid of the crew, the dining room emptied swiftly. Donna and her family were ushered away along with the others, leaving Klein, Irina, and Danitz to return to their cabin.

As they stepped into room 312, Danitz shut the door behind them with an air of forced nonchalance. He folded his arms and smirked. "I thought you were going to take over the White Agate and keep it safe from harm."

Klein ignored the remark, stepping towards the window. His posture was relaxed, hands in his pockets, but his sharp gaze was fixed on the approaching ship. The pirate flag fluttered boldly in the wind—a red skull over black.

"Know them?" Klein asked without turning around.

Danitz stepped forward, stopping at an angle behind him. He squinted at the ship before recognition flashed in his eyes. "Red Skull. Small to medium-sized crew. Their captain is Sea Wolf Johnson—900-pound bounty. First mate's One-Eyed Anderson—500 pounds."

The Seer remained silent for a moment. "Do they know you?"

Danitz straightened his back with a hint of pride. "Of course! They're qualified to attend pirate gatherings. I once kicked them in the ass."

Klein's expression remained unreadable. "Do they have binoculars?"

From under her scarf, Irina suppressed a widening smile.

The pirate scoffed. "That's an essential item. Even if a ship's under control, there'll be sailors on the lookout with binoculars to prevent surprise attacks."

His tone carried a hint of satisfaction—finally, finally he could tell that this was this dangerous lunatic's first time at sea.

Yet, he still cast a wary glance at Gehrman Sparrow. Is he a famous bounty hunter? A member of some secret organization? He subconsciously shifted his attention to Elena, who had been quiet this whole time. And what about her? She just sits there, saying nothing, doing nothing—seriously, what is her role?

"During times like this, will the captain and first mate use their binoculars to observe us?" Klein asked with a steady voice.

Danitz furrowed his brows. "Of course. They need to keep track of their target."

What are you planning? The pirate frowned slightly, trying to decipher the man's intentions. With strength like his, wouldn't the obvious move be to let the Red Skull pirates approach, board their ship, and then wipe them all out?

Klein tilted his head, studying Danitz for a long moment before a slow, almost pleasant smile crossed his lips. "That's good."

A chill shot down Danitz's spine. What do you mean, that's good?! He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to bolt, but before he could act on it, Klein spoke again.

"Take off your wig," the seer instructed.

Danitz blinked. "Hah?"

Klein didn't repeat himself. Instead, he retrieved a small metal bottle from his coat pocket and held it out. "Wipe your eyebrows and face clean."

Danitz hesitated, staring at the bottle. "Makeup remover?"

I was just about to offer mine, Irina mused. Those eyebrows should be a crime!

Still bewildered, he reluctantly removed his disguise, wiping away the makeup that concealed his identity. His true face soon emerged.

Fuck. Irina stared at him openly. Why does he look good? No seriously, why is he attractive?!

Satisfied, Klein pocketed the bottle and stepped toward the window, unlatching it. The sea breeze poured in, salty and sharp.

"Stand here and look outside," he instructed, pointing to the window.

Danitz hesitated but moved as told—his instincts still screaming at him to run away.

Klein observed him for a moment before speaking in an almost casual tone. "You have two choices. One, crawl out and hang there in an eye-catching manner. Two, I hold you by the collar and hang you there in an eye-catching manner."

The pirate froze. "... what do you want to do?"

Klein's smile turned friendly—too friendly.

Irina, already sensing what was coming, instinctively raised both hands to cover her face. She didn't need to hide her expression—her scarf and lace did that—but she did it anyway, too engrossed in the whole episode to notice.

"Show you to the pirates," Klein explained. "I believe Rear Admiral Iceberg's fourth boatswain holds enough weight to persuade them to retreat."

Danitz went rigid. "No, don't do that!"

It didn't take a genius to figure out what would happen next. The pirates would see him and immediately assume one of two things: either Blazing Danitz had been captured by someone terrifying, or the ship had already fallen into Rear Admiral Iceberg's grasp.

And the way I'm displayed will decide which of those thoughts they have... Danitz swallowed hard.

Klein's smile deepened. "I'm very easy to get along with—really. As long as you do as I tell you."

Danitz felt an inexplicable hunger again—a terrifying sensation, as though something unseen could rip him apart at any moment. He weighed his options for a single second before raising his hands in surrender. "I'll do it myself."

Wise choice man, Irina mused.

Holding back his fury, he climbed out of the window, using his balance to dangle himself just enough to be clearly visible.

"Don't try to escape," Klein warned coldly. "I'm not a patient man."

Danitz clenched his jaw. Phew... I can endure this.

Meanwhile, on the approaching pirate ship, a lookout peered through his binoculars, then suddenly stiffened. "Boss, there's some weird guy hanging out the window over there!"

Sea Wolf Johnson grabbed his own binoculars and squinted toward the White Agate. His face immediately darkened.

That's—Blazing Danitz?!

How the hell did he end up there? And why is he just... hanging like that?

Johnson's mind raced before he came to a decisive conclusion. He lifted his hand. "Change course! Stay far away from that ship—immediately!"

In Room 305, Cleves stood by the window, revolver gripped tightly in his hand as a precaution against the potential sea skirmish. He wasn't the only one tense with anticipation. Donna's family sat together in the living room, too unsettled to retreat to their bedrooms. They remained silent, waiting for the first sounds of bombardment. Cecile and Teague, the other two bodyguards, stood close, their postures rigid as the awaited the inevitable.

A furrow appeared between Cleves' brows as he peered out at the sea. Something wasn't right.

After a few minutes, he took a step back, exhaled sharply, and lowered his gun. "The pirates have left."

"What?" Urdi Branch and the others exchanged bewildered glances. A retreat? Just like that? It makes no sense.

In Room 312, Blazing Danitz hauled himself back inside, landing unceremoniously with a loud thud. He dusted himself off with a face twisted in indignation.

"You're borrowing my captain's reputation! She really hates that kind of thing!" His voice carried the edge of someone trying to make himself feel better. He wasn't going to let this go—not yet.

Just wait for Rear Admiral Iceberg to teach you a lesson! He fumed silently.

Klein, unfazed, simply adjusted his cuffs. "I recall her bounty in Loen was 26,000 pounds."

Danitz stiffened.

... this madman. He swallowed hard, unable to find the right words.

"The Red Skull really left?" Urdi Branch hesitated before stepping toward the window, scanning the horizon as if expecting to see the pirates turn back.

Cleves nodded. "Yes."

As if to confirm it, a sailor's voice rang out from outside, echoing across the deck. "The danger has been averted! The danger has been averted!"

Donna and Denton finally allowed themselves to breathe. The tension in their small bodies eased just enough for their curiosity to take over. They hurried to the window, peering out into the vast sea.

"Are the Red Skull pirates that powerful?" Donna asked, eyes wide as she searched for the fading ship.

"Very powerful," Cleves answered without hesitation.

Denton leaned forward, eager. "How powerful?"

Teague smirked, running a hand through his hair. "Even without their cannons and the hundred or so pirates on board, their captain and first mate alone are enough trouble. Anderson—One-Eyed Anderson—has a bounty of 500 pounds. If all of us in this room worked together with a few sailors, we might stand a chance against him. But Johnson, Sea Wolf Johnson? He could take Anderson down without breaking a sweat. His bounty is 900 pounds—nearly a thousand."

Donna's lips parted slightly. "That much?"

She was thinking of her father's yearly salary—1,500 pounds. And this man was worth nearly all of it with just his head?

"A lot," Cecile confirmed. "If you catch them, their bounty alone is valuable, but the kingdom will also buy any goods they've plundered. Pirates worth 300 pounds are already dangerous. Once they approach 1,000, they become infamous across entire seas. In vast waters like the Sonia or Fog Sea, those names carry real weight."

"Then the Four Kings and Seven Admirals must be famous everywhere," Donna reasoned, eyes gleaming.

Cleves met her gaze and nodded. "Yes."

Her mind worked quickly, pieces clicking into place. "Then... the Red Skull pirates are really famous in the Sonia Sea?"

"Yes," Teague affirmed.

"Then why did they flee?" She tilted her head.

The adults hesitated.

"It might not have been fleeing..." Cecile murmured, unsure.

Cleves frowned. "Maybe there was another reason. Maybe they weren't here to attack in the first place. Just passing through."

Another reason? Donna kept thinking until an idea surfaced in her mind.

Could it be Uncle Sparrow's messenger? That tall-as-a-house, terrifying but cute skeleton?

Yeah, that'd scare anyone! Her imagination created a dramatic image of the messenger looming over the ship, its eerie, unblinking gaze sending hardened pirates scrambling for cover. She almost giggled at the thought.

A glance at Denton told her he was thinking the exact same thing. His eyes shone with excitement.

They turned to each other, lips pursed, reaching an unspoken agreement.

"Let's go out and get some air on this level," Donna announced.

Denton immediately nodded. "Yeah, good idea."

The two of them made a beeline for the door.

Outside, Denton leaned in, voice hushed. "Are we going to find Uncle Sparrow and Aunty Jaeger?"

Donna grinned, "Exactly! I saw them go into Room 312!"

Inside Room 312, Blazing Danitz watched as the Red Skull turned its bow around, tsking with laughter.

"They must've been spooked by the Navy's cannons and the news of a recent pirate crew being wiped out. Desperate enough to raid this route, but not desperate enough to stick around."

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, expression smug. "Heh, so what if they have giant ship cannons? The Navy and the Church have always had powerful weapons. But have they ever managed to stop piracy completely? No. We can't win in a head-on fight, but we can always escape. They can't escort every merchant ship forever."

Danitz gestured dramatically. "Sure, ironclad warships are getting bigger, steam engines stronger. Maybe one day they'll break past 18 knots, 20 knots, and when that day comes, well... you run out of luck. But the sea is vast. There are places even they can't reach—unexplored waters, hidden coves. Dangerous, sure, but where there's risk, there's opportunity."

This guy talks so much... or is it just Gehrman's presence making him nervous? Irina mused, barely suppressing an amused sigh.

Klein scanned the room, his gaze landing on his leather suitcase. Then, in his usual, infuriatingly calm manner, he said, "Wash the dirty clothes inside."

Danitz's face froze. For a split second, his anger felt like a steam valve ready to burst. Burn the whole ship down. Just burn it down.

Taking a slow breath, he forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. "Is that all?"

Irina perked up, entertained, while Klein cast her a brief glance before turning back to Danitz. "Only the dirty ones. The coat just needs brushing. Do the same with Elena's clothes."

Danitz's face twitched. He looked about ready to start throwing things, but in the end, he turned sharply and stomped toward the suitcase, muttering under his breath.

Irina, meanwhile, exhaled in relief. Good thing I washed all my underwear and stashed them away. The rest of her clothes were yesterday's change of attire and a few pieces of fabric she had used to alter her disguise. Not exactly dirty, but not clean enough that she'd object to someone else washing them. Honestly, this works out.

Danitz was still trying to convince himself not to snap when he heard the doorbell's jingle.

Klein opened it, revealing Donna and Denton.

"Uncle Sparrow, I hope we're not disturbing you?" Donna's eyes darted across the room before landing on Irina, reclining in a chair without her usual coat.

"No." Klein stepped aside.

As the two children entered, Donna's eyes lit up. "Wow! Aunty Jeager, your clothes look so cool! Like a real adventurer!"

"Thank you." Irina crossed her legs, subtly adjusting her skirt so the slit wouldn't expose too much skin. It wasn't like she cared much, but keeping up a certain image in front of children seemed like the proper thing to do.

Danitz, who had turned to look, did a double take. It was the first time he had heard her speak. He also realized—yes, as I suspected—her clothes did have a distinct pirate-like aesthetic. Yet everything about her demeanor contradicted that. What the fuck. Why is this woman a walking contradiction? And why is she hanging around Gehrman?!

His mind spun with theories. Maybe Gehrman wants her dressed like that to attract actual pirates? Does it make it easier to hunt them down? He shuddered. Dogshit! That lunatic would totally do something like that... but then again, she doesn't carry a weapon. I also don't sense any danger from her. Maybe she's not even a Beyonder?

His eyes brightened. Wait... maybe she's just his woman?! That would explain why they booked separate rooms—to keep up the appearance of adventurers when they're clearly not! Haha! I figured it out!

Meanwhile, Denton frowned. "Where are the servants?"

"Didn't bring them along," Klein replied.

Donna, clearly puzzled, tilted her head. "But first-class cabins have laundry maids. You just have to pay per barrel."

At that, Danitz froze mid-motion. He had been so caught up in his anger that he had completely forgotten about it.

His eye twitched as he turned toward Klein. "Can I hire the laundry maid for help?"

The seer, ever the reasonable man, merely smiled. "I only care about the results."

Danitz exhaled in relief, already making mental plans to never touch another piece of laundry ever again.

Their exchange made Donna frown in confusion. "Uncle Sparrow, aren't you two friends? Then why does he look... different?"

Klein sat down and, without hesitation, said, "To be precise, he's my prisoner of war."

"Prisoner of war?" Denton looked between them, utterly baffled.

Donna's initial confusion was quickly replaced by wide-eyed excitement. "Is he... is he a pirate?"

Klein nodded. "Yeah."

Donna gasped. "Then... the Red Skull pirates ran away because of you?!"

He glanced at Danitz before replying, "In a way."

That was enough for Donna. She turned to the pirate, eyes sparkling. "Uncle Sparrow, does he have a name? No—does he have a bounty?"

Danitz's instincts screamed LIE! LIE NOW! He opened his mouth, scrambling to answer first. "I'm Sieg!"

At the same time, Klein said flatly, "Danitz."

Irina coughed, poorly hiding her laughter.

Donna and Denton exchanged a look but didn't push further.

They didn't stay long, sensing Danitz's increasing discomfort and angry stare, and soon returned to Room 305. There, Donna spotted her father and Uncle Cleves deep in discussion. She hesitated, then spoke up innocently, "A lot of people were talking about pirates just now. Someone mentioned Danitz. Is he powerful?"

Cleves blinked. "Danitz... Blazing Danitz. He's Rear Admiral Iceberg's subordinate. The fourth boatswain of the Golden Dream."

He trailed off as if remembering something. Then, in a lower voice, he added, "His bounty is 3,000 pounds."

Three. Thousand. Pounds. Donna and Denton's jaws nearly hit the floor.

The Red Skull captain is only worth 900 pounds, but the guy doing laundry just now was worth 3,000?

They looked at each other, unable to speak.

Later that evening, as the White Agate entered the harbor, Irina stared out of the window, her lips pressing into a thin line.

Bansy Harbor...