"What’s the date today?"
Liszt looked around at the people on the ship. His skin had regrown, and his hair followed suit, regenerating rapidly. Without batting an eye, he retrieved his money purse from the inarticulate Galen and also took the scimitar from his hands, grabbed his excessively grown hair in one hand, and chopped it off in one swift motion.
Then, he tossed it into the sea, as if it were trash.
Gazing at the charred corpse-like being that eerily restored its features was not even the strangest part.
Galen and the others also mingled on the seas, and it was important to keep up with current events. The portrait of a scar-faced visage had long been circulated far and wide—it wasn’t of some newcomer, but the Northern Border OG, the train robber master, the Boss of Heaven Port.
It is said that fortune is found in the most unexpected places, and indeed, who across the lands would not recognize such a figure?
You might not understand what it means to open a chest and find the East Sea King—what we usually refer to as hitting the jackpot.
Galen’s mind was racing on the slightly rocky sampan sailboat, sweat pouring down; he realized that this was a thousand times more astonishing than uncovering forty or fifty Golden Dragons.
"Mr. Li, we respect you so much!"
Galen, snapping to realization, blurted out his fanciful remark.
The other team members couldn’t help but find the face familiar, and after Galen’s reminder, they recognized him as well.
For now, they set aside the question of how the legendary Liszt could have ended up here like a charred corpse and immediately prostrated themselves in respect. Updates are released by NoveIＦire.net
It was not that they were unworthy of being pirates, but scavenging for corpses was simply more cost-effective.
Galen and the others certainly wanted to take to the seas themselves, but they lacked the necessary power and backing, so they spent their days aimlessly searching for easy picks.
Liszt was somewhat petrified, wondering if he was hallucinating—why did their words sound so odd to him?
Recalling Celeste’s warning, given his identity, to enter the Narrow Sea without notice would seem rude to other factions from foreign lands.
Being an internet sensation of the East Sea was something he definitely could not afford to be.
"Just tell me the date."
Liszt felt an urge to kill rising within him.
"The eighth, May eighth."
Galen responded with the utmost respect.
Liszt calculated the time; his fleet should have already reached Golden Palm Port in Mulong Duchy by now, but they would still be staying there for another ten days.
"Simply asking for the date has led to quite a bit. One, two... eight people in total. Now, there are two options. The first is that only one of you can survive and take me to the nearest land, to a city where an adventurer’s guild is established. The second is... you can all live, but you must present an Oath of Loyalty."
Before Liszt could search for Sharon, there was another matter he needed to attend to—he had to send a letter to Golden Palm Port.
Diaz’s person was now impersonating him, and Liszt had even seen her face. It was indeed strange, as it was said that those with such golden pupils were half-human, with the blood of extraterrestrial demons running through their veins.
Liszt was confident she wouldn’t dare to act rashly, but would diligently play the part.
At Liszt’s level, it wasn’t that he could make all the decisions single-handedly—the relationship between the War Merit Faction and the investors had to be balanced, with neither side being offended.
Whether it was the planning of the home base or the railroads on shore, the overall strategic direction was set, and even if someone else took over, they would only be pushed along by the course already charted. The "Liszt" currently in Golden Palm Port would easily give themselves away if they made any foolish decisions, like ordering the Black Sail disbanded, which would instantly come back to haunt them.
Even so, he still needed to send word, nonchalantly biding his time with her.
Counterfeits can be quite useful. Now that he had become so famous, he could drift to any location and even the lesser-known small fry would recognize him—those from seven years ago might come looking for him again.
Not to mention the Mysterious Wizard and the Mu Ran No.2 that Mo Yutong had speculated about.
Having a stand-in was pretty good.
The anonymous letter could only be sent without revealing the sender, and Liszt hadn’t yet decided who to address it to. After some deep thought, it seemed that no one was reliable enough to send it to—a matter worth carefully pondering.
"We all choose the second option!"
Galen was spirited and energetic, having sworn an Oath of Loyalty. So he was going to work for... Black Sail?
Liszt had already found out.
It was a bunch of idle adventurers who spent their days picking up scraps at sea. They also did fishing on the side. In any case, they never came back empty-handed—they retrieved seafood as well as corpses, and managed to win it all.
So that’s it—a clay pot is always just a clay pot.
They probably thought that ever since they had partnered up with him, their sampan sailboats automatically came equipped with iron pots for cooking, and right then and there, they steamed all the seafood they had caught that morning to eat.
They said it was to treat Liszt well and opened a few bottles of fine wine worth three copper coins each.
These people seemed a bit brain-dead, but Liszt still felt the affection from these old buddies. This was the true daily life of bottom-tier adventurers.
Having been glorified by these people for two hours, he too began to feel a bit full of himself.
Really, there were too many people in Heaven Port. You couldn’t expect the same comrades who had once sailed with you, tricked, cheated, raided, and looted, to hold you in high regard. Liszt had never before felt like a Boss, but now he was finally getting a taste of what it felt like to be the Boss, thinking damn, I’m so awesome.
"When you’re out hustling, you’ve got to use your head. I made my first fortune by printing fake money. Now, you’re all diving for corpses, and there are plenty in that line of work. You should aim for a differentiated field, find the pain points of the industry, profile your users clearly. Since you guys are clean slates, you should partner with the government to establish a third-party corpse recovery organization. There are countless naval battles here, and many from the navy can’t find their bodies. You should present your plan to the government, help naval widows or their families see the bodies, thereby boosting government influence, and getting them to fund you. Living off of a government subsidy, isn’t that better than depending on random loot boxes?"
Liszt, puffing on a cigarette handed to him by Galen, coughed; man, it wasn’t a good one, burned his throat.
He hadn’t smoked anything this trashy since three years ago—Galen probably rolled it himself.
"Mr. Li is right. If you’re not the Boss of the East Sea, who is?"
Galen may not have fully understood, but he was nevertheless deeply impressed.
The deputy commander mused over Liszt’s words and agreed there was some merit to them. How could Aran Military Officials lower themselves to do such work? They might manage a swindle of fifteen to twenty silver coins per person per month in subsidies, let alone with official intelligence support, indicating where battles occurred and where it was more likely to find bodies.
The pirates in the Narrow Sea were different from those in the East Sea, with privateer certificates being issued, more often fighting not for wealth but for territory and shipping routes. They usually destroyed the ships completely, exterminating the crew without Geneva Conventions; there were plenty of floating corpses.
Seafood and booze, gout be damned; while smoking, Liszt also figured out his current geographical location.
There was bad news, but also good news.
Not every place had an adventurer’s guild; only big cities did.
The bad news was, the place where Liszt had drifted to was quite remote. The nearest city with a guild was over a thousand miles away, and he couldn’t take the sea route there.
Not every port was like Heaven Port; big ports had plenty of patrol ships. Without the proper paperwork, they’d drive you away, but with the nature of the Military Masters, they’d squeeze you dry.
Liszt’s face wasn’t meant for such a journey, only to head to the nearest shore, then take the land route.
The good news was, he had drifted to the waters around Aran. This wasn’t surprising—half of the terrifying expanse of Aran’s territory was on the western coast of the Narrow Sea, making it a highly probable event.
But this saved him a lot of trouble. As the world’s strongest country, their border control was very strict, and he had directly smuggled himself into Aran.
Liszt never would have thought that he’d return to his homeland earlier than Mika.
While Mika couldn’t claim to be from the Upper Three Flags of Old Aran, he was indeed a native of Aran.