Ⅸ. Turbulent Times

Inside a theater in Londen City.

Liszt had originally planned to wrap up his business in Londen City, hand over the bribe to the sheriff, and then wash his hands of the whole affair. Unexpectedly, he received another order.

The sheriff returned the bribe and asked Liszt to stay for another month; Lord needed a trustworthy person for a significant job.

He had been instructed that if the Black Sail easily wiped out that gambling den, they should take on this job.

Liszt's first reaction upon hearing this was to outright refuse. If a job was referred to as a "significant one" by the old hacks like Lao Deng, it probably meant that all of his ten or so people would get dragged in.

That is, until the sheriff mentioned the terms.

Black Sail had a notoriously awful reputation by now. It seemed to be on the rise, but it had already hit a ceiling, walking a tightrope.

Apart from a few famous pirates at Heaven Port, feared throughout the Four Seas and even owning fleets, Liszt was among those at the top of the pirate pyramid.

This meant his infamy had spread far, but he was feared merely as a mob of thugs. His wealth and fame were entirely mismatched, marking him as a target. As a pirate floating on the sea without a foundation, he desperately needed to transform.

Murder and looting were only the beginning. To advance further, he needed to start trading on a larger scale, and that required connections. Not to mention, Liszt was currently under scrutiny from the East Coast Governor.

If Liszt could nail this deal, the lord above the sheriff had an old acquaintance. Liszt could get a privateer license from him, and while it might not exactly whitewash the identities of those on his ship, it would offer them a place to hide and a legitimate position.

Even with such terms, Liszt did not immediately agree.

He had also heard of that so-called old acquaintance. The man had a very complex background and was involved in outlandish activities. To put it simply, he was Beima Xiaochaijin, a descendant of the former royal lineage, a known protector of dark forces. Seeking refuge with him meant that no one would dare touch Liszt, unless an army was sent after him, something he wasn't influential enough to warrant.

The national situation in the Beima Duchy was quite complicated. They harbored a hatred towards the Aran Empire so visceral it was as if they wanted to devour its flesh due to various accumulated grievances that had reached a boiling point.

First, the old king was regarded as a hero resisting Aran, who heroically committed suicide in a besieged city—a tale of noble sacrifice.

Second, the rightful heir, Philip VI, went to the Aran Imperial City for negotiations and was coerced to cede even more territory, refused decisively, and died overseas. He returned only as a corpse in a coffin, much like a tragic figure from the Western Continent's own history.

Thinking of the old king who died for his principles and the pitiful Philip VI, every Beima person with a shred of pride flew into a rage.

Furthermore, there was the currency replacement — the horror of overnight devaluation which inflicted a drastic reduction in the wealth of the Beima people.

Currency is essentially a national guarantee of debt, a certificate issued by the state for labor expended, a debt owed by the country that can be freely exchanged for other labors within the current environment.

Now, it was as if the debts owed by the Beima Duchy to its citizens were transferred to being owed to the Aran Empire instead, meaning that the Aran Empire had robbed the entire nation's people of their money. Everyone was now laboring disgracefully and cheaply for the Aran Empire.

Those in the city who had some hard currency could still scrape by; as for some inland towns, life was becoming unbearable.

Other than some established nobles still hanging on to their territorial enclaves, the Beima Duchy was almost turning into a bandit state. Everywhere there were bandits and desperadoes, messily clustered together. The Beima Duchy's East Coast had several ice-free ports, allowing trade with the Far East Islands, attracting many foreign traders willing to take their chances, which only added to the chaos. One could only imagine the plight of the common people.

The current puppet king was also an imbecile, propped up yet earnestly believing himself to be significant. Liszt was certain it wouldn't be long before the king faced a downfall.

Taking this opportunity with Beima Xiaochaijin might not be the first wave out of Heaven, but it was still at the initial stage of a major trend—a good opportunity indeed.

At the entrance of the theater.

Liszt and his three companions had just wrapped up their business and stepped outside.

"That caveman is playing coy, won't say what the job is, wants us to stay here for another month."

Wolman was puzzled. Although the terms were indeed irresistible, Liszt had agreed without even asking what the job entailed, making Wolman suspect it might be some kind of scapegoating trap.

"A privateer license is nothing but a verbal promise, and my acceptance was just as noncommittal. We're still short on sailors on the ship, and we can't leave right away anyway. Might as well agree to it for now."

Liszt was shrewd; he hadn't managed to give away the bribe he'd originally intended to offer, and now he had an additional thirty Gold Dragons as an advance payment. It was stupid not to take the free money—a sign that the job must indeed be significant.

"It's just that staying too long poses problems with Bounty Hunters and the Navy."

Wolman, since the Great Wetland uprising had been quelled, had lost all trust in any noble. They were nothing but marks—get tangled with them and it was a death trap, no match for these cold-blooded, deceitful scum.

"Ha, Brother Sha is with us. A thousand men come at us, and each of us takes one, he slaughters nine hundred and ninety."

Liszt casually spoke.

"Thanks a lot."

Morison was nonchalant. You really think too highly of me.

Not far from the theater, they ran into Fen hurrying their way.

"Why have you come back?"

Liszt immediately sensed trouble.

Fen shared his news; Bounty Hunters had set their sights on the Black Sail, but Ox and Rein had already chopped them up.

"Damn, assassins coming after us so soon? We've really become notorious," Liszt muttered in silence, then added, "No worries, just small fry. We can handle it. Besides, has Swan come around?"

Fen nodded, thinking it was also time to lay things out clear with the crew.

"That's good. Even if he doesn't get it, he has to. If it wasn't for your face, I would have chopped him up by now. Tonight's a triple celebration; we definitely need to prepare some solid dishes."

Liszt spoke with a serious tone.

"Three pieces of good news?"

Fen was genuinely interested. The casino heist had been quite a windfall—that was one piece of good news. For the other crew members, Swan's issue was considered another. But what was the third?

Liszt spoke of the privateer license and the Beima Xiaochaijin business.

Fen's poker face betrayed no thoughts, but after pausing for a few seconds, he said, "Two and a half pieces of good news, I'd say."

Liszt caught on to the subtlety in the reply. Anyway, no decisions had been made yet; he needed to talk to Fen in private again.

"Swan? What about the thief?"

Morison asked casually.

"Even a blind man could see his skills. Is he putting down a security deposit or what?"

Wolman speculated. Pirates weren't playing house; you couldn't just hop on board with a word. Common sailors and deckhands were one thing, but core members had to present an Oath of Loyalty; either peel a noble, a titled noble without lands would do, or it was going to revolve around money. Since Swan came on board, he had been stalling. If it weren't for Fen vouching for him, he would have been chopped up long ago. Over two months had passed without a token gesture, and discontent was growing among the crew.

Liszt nearly spat out blood; the ship was full of old dogs from all over, perhaps not cultured much, but with insight as high as a seven- or eight-story building. They had all seen through it.

"You two lay off for now; suffice to say, it's good news. Time to pop the champagne?"

Liszt led his group back to the ship.

Dusk was falling.

The Sea Erosion Cliff Giant Cave, secret port.

The water shimmered. On a pier only a meter taller than the sea level, dim torches were fixed onto wooden posts for light. Inside the cave, more than ten ships were docked, including some of the Londen City nobles' smuggling ships and other not-so-clean vessels.

Among them was Liszt's "SS Fuma Keqing Revenge".

It was named so because Liszt thought it complemented "Frost Rhododendron Blood-crying" nicely.

The SS Fuma Keqing Revenge was forty-six meters in length, with a displacement of four hundred and eighty tons. But the cave was dark, and with no lanterns lit aboard the ship, only a corner was visible by torchlight.

There were many fierce-looking people on the pier, including pirates and smugglers' guards, but they all cleared the way when they saw Liszt and his group approaching.

There was a man named Archer on board who was guarding their ship; he had already killed a few troublemakers in the past two days. He was incredibly skilled—probably a match even for a Gold Level adventurer. But the ship's doctor was easier to deal with. Inquiries revealed the recently notorious Black Sail Pirate Gang, who had killed the entire household of the Blue Bay Port lord, the desperados among desperados.

The group of four ascended the gangway onto the deck of the SS Fuma Keqing Revenge.

The voice arrived before the man was seen.

"Return, Brother Sha, my proudest belief."

The distinctive hoarse voice of a Werewolf was unmistakable.

"Hold on!" Morison yelled abruptly, startling several men on deck who were playing cards by the light of a lantern. Then Morison added, "As clear as day... I've forgotten, and my tears, they flow without reason."

"Hold on!" Liszt shouted, adding, "I vaguely remember... I've forgotten, there was something compelling... forgotten."

Then, all three of them started singing in unison, "Beat back the enemies, wipe out the navy."

With that, they grabbed cups of alcohol from the table and began to chug, lighting the main lantern on the ship for illumination, then they started dancing around the mast like a group performing a ritual dance, breaking into a pirate song popular along the East Coast.

"Brethren of all paths come join the fold~ With scimitar in hand~ Carry sound fire on your back~ No need to dodge the guillotine~ Share the bounty, you and me~ Dare to gamble life, fortune multiplies~"

Since it was a day for sharing spoils, the three were in a state of excitement.

Fen was exasperated. Was this some sort of musical theater? The real drama, where a few might die on the ship, would come later, especially because of the terrifying thing Swan had stolen from the Thief Guild.

He ignored the three fools. Everyone had to be present tonight. After canvassing the deck, it appeared all those who had left to handle business had also returned. Archer, as usual, was stone drunk, red-faced and oblivious to the world, the very image of a 'drunken immortal' according to Liszt. Low-level Demon Haywood was playing cards with Swan and Shadi.

One person was still missing.

"Where's the doctor?"

Fen asked Haywood.

Haywood, too hideous to behold unmasked, never removed his helmet.

"At the brothel."

The blood-red-skinned Haywood responded.

"Again at the brothel?"

Fen was astonished.

Last time when there was a killing, he had been at the brothel. The time before, when Shadi was cornered in Heaven Port, he had been at the brothel. When the whole Blue Bay Port lord's family was killed, he was at the local brothel too.

According to Liszt, he must really be some sort of master player, or even the King all-in.

Fen was completely resigned, left to wait for his return.

It wouldn't be an overstatement to say tonight would decide the fate of the Black Sail Pirates, whether it be the privateer license mentioned by Liszt or the matter Swan was involved with.

The impact was far-reaching; this was no petty piracy or murder. This time the stakes were truly high.