Chapter 25: The Penniless Pirate (Part Two)

It was common for those skilled in ranged combat to enjoy fighting up close, but when and how to do so—Qiubai understood that perfectly well. Expecting him to hack apart the sea kings one by one? He’d rather consider whether, after dying again, he’d still have a chance to outwit the white-haired one.

“Captain… I think we need a new ship,” Qiubai said, his voice lacking energy.

If he now resembled a dead dog, then Captain Grisha truly was one—he lay sprawled over the helm, his head resting on the wheel. If he stuck out his tongue and rolled back his eyes, this pose would surely make it into “The World’s 100 Most Poignant Hanging Positions.”

“If it were possible, of course I would. The Giant is barely holding together. But right now, we have only a single lifeboat. Forget about taking valuable cargo—even evacuating all the crew is impossible,” Grisha replied.

If not for Qiubai’s efforts, the Giant likely never would have made it to the North Sea. But the captain said nothing of this, maintaining his usual demeanor. It seemed entirely normal, but in truth, it was the greatest anomaly.

First, they had successfully reached the North Sea, so their “cooperation” could well end now. Second, after witnessing Qiubai’s strength, the captain’s thoughts must have shifted; his guard was up. Who would have thought that, in the New World, two people adrift at sea would both be “ability users”?

Captain Grisha had only a vague idea of what an ability user was, but that didn’t stop him from understanding that, against these two, even his entire crew together would be nothing but fodder.

Despite days spent together, and the captain having formed a preliminary understanding of Qiubai, in the end, Qiubai wasn’t one of his own. When power was so unbalanced, all sorts of thoughts—appropriate or not—would arise. What’s more, the fruit on this ship had now become “treasure.”

Qiubai could casually produce two hundred thousand Berries with a blink. What if that number multiplied tenfold? A hundredfold? Would he not be tempted?

No one could guarantee otherwise.

Still, as far as Qiubai was concerned, whether or not he understood, he’d best “not understand” the captain’s shift in attitude. “That’s not what I meant. Even if the Giant can hold together, are you sure you want this ship, with your ‘goods,’ entering any port?”

Looking as blood-soaked as it did, the Giant might well be sunk by the Navy before it reached any harbor—and worse consequences were possible. Even if it docked safely, if the Navy followed any trace and discovered this battered little ship had crossed the Calm Belt, who could predict what would happen next?

One could imagine the outcomes: bad, worse, and worst.

Qiubai himself didn’t care, but Grisha and his crew were just ordinary folk. To put it bluntly, this could draw the attention of CP9, or even CP0.

Though selling “specialties from the New World” with a short shelf life might also bring trouble, it was much more discreet. The Navy couldn’t possibly monitor every commercial transaction. If the captain handled things more covertly, perhaps working with local merchants, docking with a blood-stained ship would draw entirely different attention. By the time the Navy reacted, Grisha and his crew could be long gone.

Qiubai’s words left Captain Grisha silent, as if he’d grasped the idea.

A moment later, the captain came to a decision. There were only a few possible solutions.

The most reliable would be to anchor the Giant offshore, send a few men into port in the lifeboat to buy a small ship, then ferry crew and goods in batches. This was where Qiubai’s two hundred thousand Berries would come into play.

After entering the North Sea, the Giant’s course remained clear—most likely, Grisha and his crew had already decided back in the New World where to sell their wares.

It was simple enough: head for the most prosperous town nearest the Calm Belt.

“I’ll go check below…” Once he’d thought things through, the captain immediately turned and headed into the cabin, intent on checking the ship’s repairs and perhaps gathering the crew for a discussion.

Qiubai had no objections. Now that he’d reached the North Sea, he no longer needed the Giant; with a single plank, he could drift wherever he wished.

Ayn cast a furtive glance at Qiubai. Sensing it, he smiled and said, “Smooth sailing from here.”

His goal had been achieved, and now, with the dangers of the North Sea much reduced compared to the New World and the Calm Belt, there was little left to worry about.

Yet, hearing this, Ayn’s eyelid twitched for reasons she couldn’t explain.

Qiubai didn’t notice her subtle reaction. He was already leaning back against the gunwale, eyes closed, trying to recover his strength.

So the Giant drifted on, sluggishly, for another two hours. During that time, whether merchant ships or passenger vessels, any ship that spotted this ghastly sight gave it a wide berth.

Who could guess what had happened to a ship that looked as if it was bleeding out?

But even a ship in such a state would attract something akin to flies.

Unbeknownst to them, the Giant had drifted into waters where few ships passed; any vessels previously visible on the horizon had vanished.

Qiubai’s eyes opened once more. He seemed to catch the faint sound of singing—a bad omen, usually.

For there was a certain profession known for two things: one artistic, one violent.

The artistic part was singing, the violent—robbery.

…And all the other acts that accompanied robbery.

“A skull flag—it’s a pirate ship.”

Qiubai had just stood up with the help of the gunwale when Ayn confirmed the Giant was about to encounter pirates. In the distance, the outline of a ship was visible, its sail unmistakably marked with the symbol of piracy.

“…Truly, this wretched ship is cursed,” Qiubai could only say. “What else is there to say?”

It had nothing to do with bad luck or who might be the jinx; the Giant was just unfortunate.

Still, Qiubai had some concerns. First, pirates never came just to say hello. Second, the pirates of the North Sea were known to be among the strongest in all four seas. His strength hadn’t yet returned—if a “big shot” showed up, he’d be in real trouble.

But as the pirate ship drew closer, Qiubai’s mood improved.

This pirate ship—patched with new planks on old boards, the wood mismatched in color, the repairs even shoddier than those of the Giant the day before—looked to be in even worse shape.

Qiubai was reassured.

“The pirates have no cannons?” he asked.

“None,” Ayn replied. In fact, even if they did, they probably wouldn’t dare use them.

First, firing might well shatter their own ship. Second, if the Giant took a hit, it would almost certainly sink. So what would the pirates gain?

“Ayn, I’ll leave this to you,” Qiubai said.

“Understood,” Ayn answered at once. She was in top form, her strength beyond question. After all, it was an unspoken truth at sea: penniless pirates were powerless pirates.

Moreover, Ayn knew these pirates were about to be on the receiving end of a counter-robbery. Qiubai had his eye on their ship—no matter what, it was better than the Giant now.

Unfortunately, Ayn’s ability couldn’t be used on the Giant; otherwise, things wouldn’t be so troublesome. Her power rewound, not created from nothing, so missing parts couldn’t be restored. Who knew if using her power on the Giant would turn it into a pile of trees?

For the same reason, she couldn’t use her ability directly on the pirate ship either. Sinking it would mean a loss for Qiubai as well.