The sailors in the dim corridor all wore uneasy expressions. Having someone die on the second day of boarding was certainly no good omen.
Micah pushed through the crowd and approached, touching the corpse's skin. It was already cold with rigor mortis setting in. Since they hadn't set sail yet and there were no shifts, the man must have died while everyone was asleep at night.
A sailor picked up a piece of paper from the floor that had been weighed down by two empty liquor bottles, both drained completely. He moved the bottles aside and pulled out the paper.
Micah commanded, and the sailor quickly handed it over.
After quickly scanning the contents, Micah didn't know what expression to make.
By now, Li Site, Fen, and Ox had also arrived, their faces grim as they saw the still-swaying corpse hanging from the corridor's lintel.
Many had died aboard the ship before, but few during docking. Today added another to that count.
Li Site looked puzzled but took the paper and began reading. Fortunately, the writer wasn't educated, so there were no obscure words.
[To the Captain of Black Sails:
I know you to be a righteous man, having distributed the Blue Bay Port lord's wealth among the local townsfolk.
My head is worth eight gold dragons. Please cut it off and exchange it for money at the magistrate's office to send to Antilixia in Maple Leaf Town, northern Beima Principality.
My gratitude will be repaid in the next life.]
The message was brief, unsigned, and Antilixia's identity unknown, though presumably a woman's name.
Li Site had a splitting headache. So this was the reward for doing good? If he'd known, he wouldn't have distributed anything. But was it really his choice? Leaving the money with the townsfolk gave the governor justification to take the lord's wealth from the people - essentially laundering it as legitimate earnings rather than straight robbery. If he hadn't distributed it, wouldn't they have hunted him relentlessly? At least this way the people kept some, he took a small cut, the governor took the lion's share, and everyone did business harmoniously.
"Damn it, had to pick this place. Perfectly healthy, yet chooses to trade his life for money."
Li Site lit a cigarette, baffled by the man's thinking.
Micah explained, "This man came to me last night for his leg, but the wound was completely necrotic - required amputation. Probably figured he'd be useless even if he survived, so took the easy way out."
Micah couldn't help recalling that prostitute's husband from before. In these times, losing limbs without someone to care for you was practically a death sentence.
"So case closed - suicide."
Fen's tone was ice-cold as he scanned the surrounding sailors. Fortunately, not a major incident with minimal negative impact. These laborers would forget after some heavy drinking.
Li Site ordered the note circulated among all sailors to clarify matters and prevent wild speculation.
After everyone had read it, a bald man with a skull tattoo spoke up eagerly: "What a real man! Captain! Let me cut off his head for him!"
The tattooed man drew his cutlass and approached the corpse.
"Hold it! What the hell are you doing?"
Li Site stopped the impulsive fool. What kind of help was this? Pure trouble. Yesterday's display of authority through Kill-brother's actions should suffice. That guy loved breaking in new recruits. Now it was time to consider initiative - rewards for good work to give them something to strive for, to live auspiciously.
The tattooed man froze, then said, "My stupid mistake! Us pirates going to the magistrate's would be walking into the lion's den! Better just toss him overboard."
Li Site's eye twitched with murderous intent. The man was eager but clearly lacked brains.
"Just stand down." Li Site carefully folded the suicide note and tucked it inside his coat. "Though he only served with Black Sails for a day, since he trusted me enough to entrust his life's payment to me, he's one of ours now. As they say, let the dead rest in peace. Carry this brother up the mountain, find a high spot with a good view, and bury him properly. The eight gold dragons for his family - I'll cover it."
Li Site puffed his cigarette. This was the best solution. And truth be told, this man was indeed a real man - though who knew if that Antilixia woman was worth it.
The corridor full of sailors sighed collectively. Among the Western Continent's major underground factions, death compensation was standard practice. But in these lawless seas, no pirate ship followed such rules. Li Site was truly a righteous man.
Fen knew Li Site was buying loyalty. Eight gold dragons for some degree of devotion was worthwhile. At least it proved one thing - die meaningfully while fully committed, and your affairs would be settled. Just focus on giving your all.
Ox's poker face remained unchanged. The Beima Principality was now overrun with bandits, its court powerless, its nobility vile - teetering on collapse's edge, needing just one final push.
Boatswain Ren arrived late to assess the situation.
"What terrible luck. You few - bury this brother properly, no half-measures. Make it respectable, build a nice mound. Have chef Archer slaughter some sheep at noon - the old man used to be a royal chef, his skills rank among the Western Continent's best. A good meal to celebrate and bring auspiciousness. Stop looking so grim! This brother died nobly - at sea that counts as a joyful passing. Alright, disperse! All of you scrub the decks - I'll inspect before lunch. One speck of dust or grease, and no mutton for you!"
Ren's loud commands aimed to quickly resolve matters. With the new assistant chefs recruited yesterday, Archer could start cooking.
Li Site was speechless. Only Ren could call this a "joyful passing."
The sailors' eyes lit up at mention of mutton - and prepared by a royal chef no less! This was noble treatment indeed. A truly joyful occasion!
Excited shouts of "awesome!" filled the air as they happily headed to the decks, grinning ear to ear at their unexpected fortune.
Led by the tattooed man, several sailors untied the rope from the lintel and carefully lowered the body, finding a makeshift stretcher from the bunkroom.
"Be careful with this gentleman! Ship conditions being what they are, let's still give him a proper send-off."
The tattooed man carried the front with extra effort as they transported the body up Secret Port's mountain for burial.
At the navigation room at the bow-stern line's end - effectively Black Sails' middle-aged game room - Archer busied himself with lunch preparations alongside new kitchen assistants while Ren and Morrison supervised outside.
The remaining crew wore gloomy expressions.
Wolman, despite his intermediate history degree, couldn't shake the swamp culture's superstitions, being the ship's most superstitious member.
"A death before sailing... that's inauspicious." Wolman hesitated, then added (despite his general hatred for nobles), "Might be an ill omen. We should quickly recruit whatever sailors we can find and set sail immediately. As for that so-called 'big job' - forget it. The money we have now can last us comfortably awhile. Even Heaven's Port's big shots can't get letters of marque - we should make it last."
Ox vetoed this: "We can cut corners anywhere except with crew. Even if they're just lackeys, if we encounter battle at sea and can't manage sails or fire cannons, with weaklings scared stiff, we'll sink with the ship."
Sven, far more ambitious than Wolman and often Fen's mouthpiece, said: "With what I stole now aboard, we're better positioned than Heaven's Port's big shots. Who cares about pirate kings? Time for bigger things."
Everyone was shocked by the normally silent thief's bold declaration. He was clearly determined to pursue this job - soaring ambitions indeed.
Li Site also felt uncertain. Though a materialist at heart, this was truly bad luck. Plus, they still didn't know what the lord's "big job" entailed.
Just then, Haywood opened the door. Seeing everyone's gloomy faces, he announced cheerfully: "Surprise! The count sent gifts! Says it's to reward us and improve our living conditions. Carriages loaded with crates - no idea what's inside."
Shadi slapped his forehead. Ren had called it - they didn't even need to wait five days. This was indeed a major job. Were they supposed to assassinate the Aran Emperor or something?