Today marked the deadline. The subordinates sent out earlier began returning one by one.

First came Faglas. He’d scoured the western seas aboard a swift skiff, leading two hundred ghost sailors in a covert sweep beyond the Devil’s Waters. Though Faglas expanded his search relentlessly, he found nothing…

Facing Pipe Captain, Faglas’s expression was grim with shame. Pipe merely clapped his shoulder.

*“No helping it. Truthfully, I expected as much… Sometimes, success needs both skill and luck. This failure? Luck’s fault—not yours. Don’t dwell on it.”*

Faglas was deeply moved, pouring out vows of loyalty. Pipe wanted to show he appreciated it, but his skeletal face betrayed no emotion. He could only give a slight nod. He’d noticed undead hearts differed from the living—emotions seemed deliberately suppressed. Speech stayed flat. Alone once, he’d tried roaring in frustration, only to find the words slipping out calmly anyway. He chalked it up to a racial quirk.

No sooner had he comforted Faglas than the cannon twins, Silver Lock and Golden Key, returned.

They reported ships spotted south. Remembering Pipe’s orders for stealth, they hadn’t engaged—only sketched the vessels.

*“Hmm… Not advanced ships. Seem… weak. Not fishing boats either. Silver—how tall was that mast?”*

The vampire sister, Silver Lock, thought briefly before gesturing.

*“Masts about twenty meters high. Hulls thirty meters long. I thought it might be a decoy hiding a larger submerged body, so I sent ghost sailors underwater. But they reported… no hidden sections. Just ordinary ships.”*

*“Good work. Until we know what powers exist here, caution is vital.”*

Pipe’s calm praise thrilled the twins. Faglas covered his face, embarrassed.

Soon after, Purames returned from the eastern seas—a dangerous zone, she reported. The seabed teemed with massive carnivorous creatures. From her description, Pipe guessed shark-like beasts the size of whales. Life here clearly differed from his old world…

Finally, Greenland arrived with his crew—and a wooden chest.

Pipe pulled out garments: a woman’s dress among them. He compared it to Purames’s frame. The owner was short—barely half a head taller than Golden Key. The clothes were crudely made, not modern. They resembled frontier-era gear. Leather lined vital areas—clearly armor against fatal strikes. Pipe tested it: ordinary blades pierced the leather easily, though it might deflect slashes.

*Designed for primitive firearms,* he realized.

Greenland had also witnessed a chase north. Two small ships fled five larger galleys. Both sides jettisoned cargo to gain speed, but the pursuers kept salvaging loot—greed slowing their advance.

*“Master, I left surveillance puppets there.”* Greenland’s skill conjured winged eyeballs that relayed visions via mirror. *“Shall I show you?”*

*“Do it.”*

*“Yes!”*

Greenland removed his gauntlet, revealing a metallic arm. He detached a plate—inside, a clawed支架 held a floating eyeball. Light shot from the orb to a mirror, resolving into a hazy image… then clarity.

Two skiffs fled desperately. Five galleys closed in. One skiff veered sharply, sacrificing itself to block three pursuers. The other two galleys still chased the remaining skiff. On deck, a stern-faced man drew a black curved blade against boarding brutes. Overwhelmed, he was seized. A wounded thug slashed his throat. The man choked on blood, convulsing as pirates roared with laughter. They dragged out maidservants, groping them while looting the ship.

*Strange… Before, I’d have screamed or looked away. Now? Nothing.*

*“Master, the other skiff’s about to be caught.”*

*“Hmm…”*

As pirates hauled out terrified girls huddled together, Ma Xiaoming’s voice echoed in Pipe’s skull: *Save them!*

*Save them? No profit. They seem weak—but what if it’s a trap? What are these women to me?*

*SAVE THEM!*

*Caution first. I’m Pipe, not Ma Xiaoming. No room for foolish mercy.*

*Rescue them! They’ll owe you. They’ll spill world secrets to repay you! Faster that way! Damn it—GO!*

*…Fine. That reason works. You’re loud. Did I say I wouldn’t save them?*

*“…Greenland!”*

*“Here!”*

*“Conceal yourself. Cover me. No firing without my signal. Stay hidden until I call.”*

*“Understood!”*

*“Faglas—you’re with me. I need… friendly faces to loosen some tongues.”*

*“As you command, sir.”*

*“Purames—command the Resurrection Goddess. Guard the fjord entrance!”*

*“Yes!”*

*“Cannon twins—obey Purames. Her word is mine while I’m gone.”*

Purames nearly dropped to her knees to kiss his boots. *Such trust! I matter to him! Work harder, Purames!*

*“Yes!”*

*“Orders received!”*

Pipe drew two bracelet-like devices from his endless snuffbox, tossing one to Faglas.

*“Freedom Wind—Precision Flight Gear! Such a treasure, I—I can swim instead!”*

*“Time is short. Use it… Faglas.”*

*“Yes!”*

Pipe raised his wrist. Wings sprouted from the bracelet, stretching to a five-meter span. Twin tails extended. Like giant birds, they lifted Pipe and Faglas toward the northern Death Waters. Greenland’s sound-transmitting puppet whispered in Pipe’s ear as he steered. Below, five ships came into view. The two skiffs burned, sinking into the sea.

*“HAHAHA! Brothers! Look what we caught!”*

A bald thug, hair braided at the temples, face painted with tribal grease, hoisted a woman onto his shoulder. He slapped her rear; others pawed at her.

Pirates crowded the largest galley, eager to divide spoils—especially the favorite loot: women. Only a few guarded the other ships.

*“You beasts! The gods will punish you!”*

*“Punish us? HA! We hear that daily. Where’s your god now?”*

*“Busy with his wife in—”*

*“HAHAHA!”*

*“Filthy blasphemers! Retribution will find you!”*

He threw her down, slapping her tear-streaked face. He inhaled deeply near her neck.

*“So fragrant… Know your place, lady? Madam? You might not live till dawn… Five hundred of us. Five women. How to share fairly? My math’s poor—tell me. Can you handle it, madam? We’re wretches… no baths all year… no women to comfort us… Heh heh… You worship gods. Must be kind. Comfort these lost lambs, won’t you?”*

*“Tch…”*

Despair filled the woman’s eyes. Then—the sky dimmed. Fog rolled in.

*“Huh… Fog? Damn weather…”*

*“Chilly… Stars were clear last night. No rain due…”*

*“Freezing…”*

Pirates shivered, rubbing their arms against the sudden cold.

*“Madam… you tell me. How shall we divide you?”*

*“Allow me to instruct you.”*

A voice cut through the fog—icy, quiet, yet heard by all. Two figures descended onto the deck.

*“Kneel. Accept death. Surrender the women. I’ll spare you endless suffering… This is my mercy.”*

A peculiar figure clad in a scarlet coat and a peaked cap stood before them, his face hidden behind a mask. At his waist hung a black curved blade as dark as night... and an elegant flintlock pistol.

Close behind him stood a man with a cold expression, resembling a noble gentleman. His muscular frame filled a perfectly tailored suit. He glared sternly at the burly, bewildered men surrounding them, his lips pressed into a thin, displeased line.

"First meeting, greetings. I am Pipe..." His voice cut through the mist. "As a gift, I offer you this advice... Hand over these women to me. Then take your own lives—that would be your best fate. Otherwise, you’ll face neither life nor death."

The fog blurred the sea’s edge, a chilling wind raising goosebumps. These burly men hesitated, unnerved by the two sudden strangers.

"You—damn it! Who the hell do you think you are!? Ugh—*gurgle*—AAAAHHHH!!!"

"...Boy," a calm voice murmured behind Pipe. Faglas had appeared silently, his hand gripping the loudmouth’s face. With a smooth motion, he peeled the skin off like unwrapping paper.

"*Gurgle*... AAAAAHHHH!!!"

Amid the thug’s screams, Faglas bowed elegantly.

"Faglas... stand down." Pipe’s tone turned icy. "You refused my mercy. Now, I’ll show you hell’s true face. Though we’ve just met... farewell. Or rather, a new beginning—as slaves. You kept me waiting a full minute. Denied my kindness. Do you know how... *displeased* that makes me?"

Pipe drew his black curved blade. A single step forward. Dark mist seemed to coil around the Pipe Captain. Despair and terror sprouted in every heart. Fierce pirates trembled—some stood frozen, others collapsed, wetting themselves.

The blade arced, unleashing endless darkness that devoured the light. Pipe began his slaughter. Time slowed... or perhaps stopped.

*Or was it all a dream? A terrifying, absurd demon... a nightmare that would haunt her for life...*

That’s exactly how Julie saw it. Just as she’d resigned herself to a cruel fate... two strangers fell from the sky. Divine messengers? Unlikely. They’d saved her, yes—but their actions mirrored demons from dark tales.

Pirates who seemed strong fell in half with one slash. Agile ones had throats slit before dodging. "Clever" ones lunging from behind found the blade piercing their hearts as if Pipe had eyes in his back. In less than a minute, hundreds lay dead—killed like jests. What swordsmanship was this? Not one pirate lasted a single exchange. From bow to stern, alone with one blade, he slaughtered over five hundred. No hesitation. No mercy. Whether charging or fleeing—all died in one stroke.

From their corpses crawled glowing green wraiths. The pirates had become something else: cursed souls of legend—ghost ship crewmen.

"...Too weak. They didn’t even reach one-tenth of my strength. No martial arts needed. Simple footwork and swings sufficed."

Pipe had massacred them all with casual ease.

The once-arrogant pirates now stood as ghostly crewmen, lining up under Faglas’s command to board another ship. Their creator—the man called Pipe (his voice confirmed he was male)—was gently untying Julie and the other captive women.

"Hm? You’re safe now."

Julie nodded, blue eyes wide with fear. Instinct told her: obey this captain, and she’d live. At least, she wouldn’t become one of those neither-dead-nor-alive horrors. Yet this man terrified her. Trust warred with her trembling heart.

Pipe noticed her fear and caution. Understandable.

"Of course, this rescue isn’t free. I require payment..."

Seeing her guarded expression ease slightly, Pipe knew he’d chosen right. The weak never fully trust powerful strangers.

"Not money. I’m not from here. A world-traveling adventurer. My ship hit a typhoon... when the storm cleared, I was here. I need to understand this place. Will you help?"

*Like scenes from old movies—Robinson Crusoe. A lie for now. Calling myself a pirate would scare her. Then I’d learn nothing.*

Julie nodded. A first step toward trust.

"Now, I ask questions. You answer. Understand this: if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t lie. You’re not worth the deception. Your answers repay my rescue."

Julie felt helpless but had no choice.

"Good. A wise start. Your name? Your homeland?"

"Julie... I’m from the Fire Eagle Duchy."

"Fire Eagle Duchy? Where is it?"

"Southwest of the Cursed Sea, bordered by Pearl Strait. West of the White Oak Kingdom. South touches Stone Fortress. Beyond Stone Fortress, the Roaring Tide River marks the border with the Holy Varnishel Empire."

"Master, I retrieved this map from the pirates." Faglas handed Pipe a sea chart. Pipe squinted at the crude drawings—he recognized coastlines, but the text was alien: a mix of pictographs and letters, utterly indecipherable.

He also realized Julie understood Chinese. *A universal rule here: languages auto-translate. Convenient.* He dismissed the mystery—practicality mattered more.

Julie belonged to a knight’s family in the Fire Eagle Duchy. She’d been transporting goods when pirates attacked. Nearly became their plaything. Saved by Pipe. Here, naval power defined nations. The Fire Eagle Duchy shared a rare large landmass with two neighbors; elsewhere, tiny islands or scraps of coast formed entire countries.

Her cargo? Pepper. After losing a naval battle to the Empire, the Duchy’s seas were blockaded. Official ships couldn’t sail. Only well-connected merchants like her family risked smuggling spices. They usually hired guards—but her cousin (the man killed on the small boat) had cut costs. No guards. Disaster followed.

The Cursed Sea? Pirate-infested. Ships vanished constantly. Some blamed pirates. Others whispered of sea monsters.

Satisfied, Pipe shook Julie’s hand and gifted her a pirate ship. Faglas would escort them to Silver Pearl Harbor.

"Faglas. Task: chart the route to Silver Pearl Harbor. Gather intelligence about this world."

"At once, Master."