Chapter 442: Klein: My Heart is Racing!
On the Black Death ship, in the captain's quarters, the Disease AdmiralTracy was selecting a suitable whip.
Choosing a whip is a delicate art. The surface should not be too sharp, or it may accidentally harm delicate skin when tearing clothes. The ideal whip, with proper force, can tear through obstructing garments while leaving only a faint red mark on fair skin.
It should hurt a little, but not be unbearably painful. A slight sting can elicit an alluring moan.
"Helene, how should I discipline you this time?"Tracy mused, her fingertips lightly brushing each whip before selecting a dark, nearly two-meter long one.
Escapees need to be taught a lesson. She can't always let Helene off easily, or she'll keep trying to run away. This game can be quite entertaining at times.
Just asTracy finished choosing her whip, there was a knock at the door. "Captain, Helene has been brought aboard."
"Hmph. Have her clean up first, then change into new clothes,"Tracy said with a smile, placing the whip on the table and lighting some candles. The dim candlelight added an air of mystery and could conceal certain thrilling sights.
After preparing, she sat behind her desk, long legs crossed. Her attire was more revealing than during the day, offering tantalizing glimpses.
Meanwhile, Klein, who had successfully infiltrated the Black Death by pretending to be captured, was struggling to overcome his embarrassment as he donned women's clothing.
There's a saying that crossdressing happens either once or countless times. Though he didn't think he'd develop a taste for it, the sensation wasn't unpleasant - the clothes felt cool and soft against his skin.
Fortunately, he had practiced with women's garments before, or he might have made mistakes that would expose him.
After changing, Klein stood before a full-length mirror, gazing at his alluring reflection. Red hair cascaded down, emerald eyes sparkled like jewels, and he wore a gold and red gown with a tightly cinched waist to emphasize its slenderness. His cheeks were flushed, seemingly from shyness or perhaps anger and helplessness at being forced into this situation.
Looking at himself, Klein had to admit that his female disguise could rank in the top three most beautiful women he'd encountered. Those defiant yet helpless eyes could easily inspire desires to conquer and dominate.
With the remaining time, Klein practiced conveying emotions through his eyes to better embody the role and avoid being discovered.
A knock at the door and a voice urging him to hurry interrupted his preparations. Taking a deep breath and adjusting his mindset one last time, Klein exited the room with an angry, stubborn look.
The blonde maid glanced at him and raised some handcuffs. "Put your hands behind your back. You're a prisoner now!"
"Hmph!" Klein turned around, allowing her to cuff him. He felt a bit strange - he'd only seen this kind of play in manga before.
After being cuffed, he was led to the captain's quarters.
"Let her enter alone," came an emotionless voice from inside.
The blonde maid's expression darkened as she opened the door, gesturing for Klein to complete the final stretch alone.
Entering the room, the door slammed shut behind him. Klein walked across the thick carpet, seeing AdmiralTracy seated behind her desk in the dim candlelight. She wore beige trousers and only a white linen shirt on top, offering alluring glimpses underneath, though her long dark hair covered the most crucial areas.
It had to be said, there were no unattractive individuals on the Witch pathway. Their beauty and allure were beyond ordinary people.
The Disease AdmiralTracy before him was also stunningly beautiful, with a domineering air. Her gaze seemed to strip away his clothes, taking in every inch of his skin.
At this moment, Klein was reminded of something else. The Disease AdmiralTracy before him was originally male, as was he. Here were two men, in a dimly lit room with candles and a whip...
Thankfully, this world had no UC browser, and no one would see him crossdressing, or it would surely be tomorrow's headline news.
"Come here. Do I need to come get you myself?"Tracy commanded.
Faced with this order, Klein remained motionless, only slightly raising his chin with reddened eyes.
Tracy watched him for a moment before walking around the desk to stand before Klein. Her eyes fixed on his reddened ones as she asked, "Tell me, how should I punish you this time?"
"Returning here is punishment enough," Klein replied, trying his best to mimic Helene's tone and emotions.
"Returning is punishment?"Tracy's hand caressed Klein's cheek, sliding down to his collarbone and lower. Her eyes were hazy as she said in a seductive voice, "You may resist at first, but in the end, you're always more enthusiastic than I am..."
Ma'am, do you hear what you're saying? I'm still quite innocent and can't understand such suggestive talk.
AsTracy's fingers continued downward from his collarbone, Klein's left hand mysteriously slipped out of the handcuffs. He grabbed her wrist forcefully and yanked down, disarming her of the powerful magical item on her hand!
Caught off guard, the haziness instantly cleared fromTracy's eyes. But Klein had already gained the upper hand, delivering a heavy punch to her abdomen. As she stumbled back in pain, a gunshot rang out.
Though she quickly dodged, her shoulder was still grazed, spraying blood. Unable to contain her fury, she shouted, "You're not Helene!"
Klein didn't respond, only intensifying his attack to try and subdue the Disease Admiral quickly.
Unfortunately, he had underestimated the combat prowess of a pirate admiral. AdmiralTracy had other life-saving magical items. When she found an opening to shout "Intruder!", Klein knew it was time to leave.
This was the Black Death ship, with at least a dozen Beyonders on board. Together, they could easily capture him.
An assassin should retreat immediately if the first strike fails.
Klein ultimately smashed through a window and escaped into the sea.
The gravely woundedTracy glared in the direction Klein had fled.
Had Helene betrayed her? No, she was likely forced into it.
With this thought, much of the pain and hatred in her heart dissipated. She began assigning tasks to the first, second, and third mates who had rushed into the captain's quarters, while ordering the Black Death to set sail at full speed, leaving their original position.
...
In the middle of the night, at Blue Mountain Island's private port, a female figure emerged from the ebb and flow of the tides - it was Klein, still disguised as Helene.
Klein walked from the sea onto the beach, about to change his appearance back to Gehrman Sparrow. Suddenly, he heard a voice from ahead.
"Mr. Hastur, look, there seems to be a girl who fell into the water up ahead."
The clear, pleasant voice, though urgent at discovering someone rescued from the water, remained elegant and composed.
Mr. Hastur?
Klein's heart inexplicably trembled. No way, it couldn't be such a coincidence, could it?
It must just be someone with the same name, right?
Klein didn't even have the courage to look up, only wanting to quickly turn and leave, to soak in the sea again and let the tides carry him elsewhere.
Currently, he was wearing a tattered gold and red gown. The top had been partially burned in the earlier fight, revealing fair, gleaming skin and the vague outline of a sizable chest.
He had no choice - Helene herself wasn't small, and to play the role convincingly, he had replicated her proportions almost exactly.
If someone familiar recognized him in this state, it would be absolutely mortifying!
The level of social death would be comparable to Roselle dressing up as a witch in public.
"..."
Klein pretended not to hear the voice, turning to leave quickly.
"Hey, wait! The wound on your back has opened up. You need treatment. We won't hurt you."
Hearing hurried footsteps approaching from behind, and seeing no way to leave smoothly, Klein could only take a deep breath. He hoped the "Mr. Hastur" mentioned earlier wasn't the one he knew.
When Klein reluctantly turned his head, he saw a very familiar figure in the moonlight.
Hastur Campbell!
It really was the young earl from Backlund!
Klein's facial expression froze, a bitter smile forming. Now, he could only hope Hastur wouldn't recognize his true identity.
"Miss, you're badly injured. Please let us treat your wounds first," Audrey said sympathetically, looking at the beautiful young woman in tattered clothes covered in injuries. She glanced at Hastur beside her and added with slight disapproval, "Mr. Hastur, staring at a lady in distress like this is not becoming of a gentleman."
"My apologies, I just suddenly felt this beautiful lady looked very familiar," Hastur replied.
Very familiar?
Klein latched onto the key point in that sentence. Glancing furtively at Hastur, he saw the slight upturn of his lips and the laughter about to spill from his eyes.
His heart sank. Had his identity been seen through?
Surely not?
But why did he feel so panicked?