Gus’s gaze swept past the pirate behind, the one with only eight fingers and a boarding axe on his back. It immediately focused on the young man in front who, unlike the typical image of a pirate, could be described as handsome.
He had grown up in Iron Anchor Bay and was a true local through and through. In his lifetime, he had seen more pirates than many townsfolk had seen people. But pirates one were indeed rare. He looked to be no more than seventeen or eighteen, yet he had fair skin and broad shoulders. His stature, as straight as a javelin, already exceeded one hundred eighty centimeters. Beneath slightly disheveled black hair, a pair of standard North Bay blue eyes seemed deeper than the ocean. They were inscrutable, radiating a maturity from within that didn’t match his age at all. He looked somewhat familiar, yet Gus couldn’t connect him to any acquaintances or portraits he had ever seen. A Bastard Sword was girded at his waist, and his body was draped in a black cloak. Atop his head, he wore a captain’s tricorne hat—he was indeed a fully-fledged young pirate captain.
Although Gus was eager to find a captain to take over, he still had little interest in starting a conversation after hearing the young man’s question. It wasn’t that he judged people by their appearance; rather, the style of pirates and systematically trained navies were utterly different. Pirates always adhered to the principle of "survival of the fittest," focusing on using people rather than cultivating them. Only those pirates and pirate ships that survived battle after battle could grow to be truly powerful, with an alarmingly high fatality rate along the way.
It was true that, burdened by his Talent: Concealment, he didn’t have much longer to live, but he still wanted to struggle a little longer. Just as he was about to shift his gaze away, he saw the young captain at the head of the pair nod at him and ask, "Friend, do you know why Iron Anchor Bay has been so bustling lately?"
Gus couldn’t believe his ears. He looked left and right. Realizing there was indeed no one else around and that the captain was really talking to him, he couldn’t help but feel a sudden surge of emotion well up in his eyes.
How many years had it been? Since his mother passed away, how long had it been since he last heard a stranger initiate a conversation with him? His peculiar talent was indeed slowly taking his life. But it also brought him an astonishingly effective transcendent ability; as long as he stood still and silent, hardly anyone could detect his presence. Just like John, the owner, said, if he switched to being a thief, he could walk into someone’s home, take things openly, and the victims wouldn’t even notice. He was a born thief, assassin, corporate spy!
It wasn’t until Byron, thinking Gus hadn’t heard clearly, asked again that Gus finally jolted back to reality and subconsciously explained, "Isn’t it because the middle of next month marks the triennial election day for the Captain’s Council? A dozen or so Middle Sequence councilors are vying for the position of Iron Anchor Bay Pirate Warlord. Across the entire North Sea, every captain recognized by the Pirate Code can vote and join their favored councilor’s campaign to support them. As a pirate, how could you not know about such an important event? Are you new here?"
"The Captain’s Council? A new Pirate Warlord? All the pirate captains from the entire North Sea are coming?" Byron was taken aback. They had been living a secluded life recently, so their information was indeed somewhat outdated. But as soon as Gus mentioned the Captain’s Council and the Pirate Warlord election, Byron quickly found related intelligence in his memory.
After the original master of this port, the North Sea Pirate King, a High Sequence Legendary Pirate known as the Whale Hunter, went missing, the Captain’s Council of Iron Anchor Bay was formed. It consisted of a group of the most powerful Great Pirates, who managed affairs in the Pirate Harbor and even pirate-related matters throughout the North Sea region. They essentially replaced the Pirate King’s absolute authority with a council system. Elections were held every three years, including both voting and combat, to select new council members and a Pirate Warlord to preside over affairs. The Pirate Warlord not only possessed immense power, with control over some of the Pirate Code’s power, but also had the right to unlock a Great Secret Treasure guarded by the Bayfolk! Influence, wealth, and even unknown extraordinary secrets were all within reach.
This grand event naturally attracted numerous pirate captains from all over the North Sea to Iron Anchor Bay, even though everyone knew most of them were just there to join in the excitement. Ever since the Whale Hunter’s disappearance, the power of the Old Continent pirates had drastically declined. Just like the Barbary Pirates on the West Coast, the powerful figures on the East Coast were also gradually shifting towards the southern seas. But those eligible to compete for a council seat and the title of Pirate Warlord had to be at least Middle Sequence, meaning Third Order or higher powerful Transcendents. It’s common knowledge that rulership belongs to those with strong armies and sturdy horses. For most pirate captains, their role was merely to cast an insignificant vote.
However, Byron had to acknowledge a crucial difference. This was the standard routine when there were no surprises, but this year was different from the past. One mustn’t forget the sheet of letter paper found on West of the Magic Mirror: "Before the end of October, enter Iron Anchor Bay in the guise of pirates, and await further instructions." Those privateer captains, driven by the York Family and the Hightins Navy Department, were mingling among the multitude of pirates who came to participate in the council election. Every summoned Privateer Ship, including the White Crystal, could potentially be a ticking time bomb!
As expected, just as Byron considered this, the Decryption Rate for the last entry of the Sailing Logbook, "Secret: The Navy Department’s Conspiracy, Historical Influence 20," rose from the original 5% to 18%.
Ill intentions are certain, but I can’t figure out what the York Family and the Privateer Ships under their control intend to do in Iron Anchor Bay to remove this, the hardest nail in the North Sea.
Byron was still unclear about the details but was somewhat excited about the increase in the Decryption Rate. He decided to wander around over the next couple of days amidst the crowds; perhaps he could find more pieces of the puzzle. If he had the chance to cause trouble for the York Family, he’d do it with zeal, even if it meant a loss.
After thanking the unremarkable passerby, Byron was ready to take Honest Man Eight Fingers to the Sailors and Cats Tavern. He planned to ask the bartender about any reliable sailors around. Mixed-sail ships, due to their use of more fore-and-aft sails, required fewer hands than square-rigged ships while greatly enhancing their Qiangfeng capability. But to operate normally and have enough personnel for shifts to maintain full combat readiness, at least fifty people were necessary. Their next task was to recruit forty experienced pirate sailors. Honest Man Eight Fingers had come with him to recruit crew members. Little Hans, who was being trained as an Artisan, had been left back at the shipyard to help his father.
Excellent crew members were a scarce resource. Byron wasn’t looking for extraordinarily talented people, just enough to get the ship moving, fire the cannons, engage in hand-to-hand combat, and possess basic combat capabilities. He had full confidence in his newly established Pirate’s Ten Commandments and the Extraordinary Knowledge of various Sequences that filled his mind. He had no worries about attracting good crew members in the future.
"Excuse me, Captain sir, are you looking to recruit crew members? I, Gus, grew up here and know the free sailors in the port like the back of my hand. Even if you need special talents, I’m very familiar with the Slave Trade Guild. With my help, I can definitely save you a lot of time." Byron’s proactive greeting had immediately ignited the faint hope in Gus’s heart, and he eagerly volunteered himself. Saying so, he straightened his untidy clothes, stretched out five fingers, and gave Byron a big smile, "Sir, five Copper Furls! Just for five Copper Furls, you won’t regret it; it’s truly a bargain, absolutely worth the price!"
(One Gold Pound equals twenty Silver Narts; one Silver Nart equals fifteen Copper Furls. One Copper Furl can buy a standard-weight Fur Bread.)
Honest Man Eight Fingers knew all too well that his captain had a vague concept of money. Without waiting for Byron to speak, he quickly stepped forward. He looked at Gus, whose face screamed "I love money" and whose tattered equipment screamed "poor." Calmly extending two fingers, he channeled the penny-pinching aura of a Remit merchant and cut the price in half, "Two Furls."
Gus’s face froze. Even if I can’t find a buyer, as a half-Transcendent born with awakened Spirituality, I still have my dignity!
All three of them looked down at Gus’s stomach.
The latter could only sheepishly accept, "Deal! But... can I get the money first?"