Night fell as Rupert hung an oil lamp on the iron hook at the cabin entrance.

“Ah, are those guys at it again?”

Amid the cabin’s raucous clamor and hollering, Rupert knew they were gambling. Every sailor had ways to kill time at sea.

Gambling, drinking, brawling, finding pleasure with a man they fancied. Life on the ocean was harsh—confined to this cramped vessel, this narrow space. Such confinement bred twisted, warped existences.

Most ships carried only male crews. Any women aboard were usually playthings for captains or first mates. To satisfy certain needs, most sailors had dabbled in such acts—sometimes willing, sometimes forced.

“How boring! Hey! Keep it down, you two bastards!”

“Hahaha… Uncle, wanna join the fun?”

A youth with sun-kissed skin and a trace of feminine allure in his hazy eyes beckoned Rupert. Behind him, a burly man—his skin darkened to purplish-black by sea winds—was hunched over the boy’s back, pinning him down while gasping heavily.

“Little stray… don’t… huff… don’t bother him. Can old Uncle Rupert even get it up anymore?”

“Hahaha! Mmf—”

Their laughter rang out, ignoring Rupert’s awkward flush.

Helpless, Rupert retreated from their playground.

“Hey! Rupert, over here. Old friend! I’ve got something good!”

A scrawny man with patchy red-and-white stubble emerged from the shadows, his face leering as he waved.

“Hmph… You know I don’t touch that stuff!”

“Relax. Not ‘Wish of Ruin’—rum.”

“Mmm… Well then. You’re a sweetheart.”

“Mmm… Thanks. I owe you one… I’ll repay you someday.”

Rupert took the wineskin, gulping. The damp chill faded; his spirits lifted.

“Forget it. We’ll probably die any day now.”

“Don’t say that, old friend Gamis. Staying alive matters most.”

“Shh… Just between us—I plan to leave.”

“…Easier said than done.”

Rupert stared at the starless sea. Endless darkness surrounded the ship—their only lifeline. Leaving meant death. Such was a pirate’s fate. Like a dying man drinking slow poison: death was certain, but refusing meant perishing now.

Gamis leaned on the railing, shaking his head at the pitch-black sky.

“I’m done… I’ve saved up. I’ll find a way out. Or I’ll die here.”

“But why tell me, mate?”

In this filthy place, trust meant ruin. A pirate crew wasn’t paradise—it was hell only veterans knew.

“Because I think you’re a good man.”

“A good man? Hah… That’s the worst joke I’ve heard. Here? Good men?”

Gamis turned, bursting into laughter. Rupert joined him.

“Yeah. Terrible joke. Hahaha… Cheers!”

“Haha, cheers!”

Rupert didn’t believe him. His gaze lingered on the cabin’s grotesque mermaid insignia, heart aching.

“Hmm… Fog’s rolling in.”

“Yeah… Expected on nights like this. But this fog feels… off.”

“So cold… Achoo!”

Gamis rubbed his arms, shivering.

“Something’s wrong… Let’s head inside.”

“Wait… Listen. Sounds like… something…”

*Crack… creak…*

The noise rose with the waves—right at the hull. Darkness made it eerie. Rupert grabbed the lamp, peering over the railing into the black water.

“Sss… Gods! This… can’t be!… Sea God protect us!”

Gamis leaned over. In the lamp’s dim glow, figures emerged from the sea, climbing the hull. Slowly, they took shape: skeletal sailors in tattered uniforms, rusted weapons in bony hands. Their joints *creaked*, making skin crawl. More kept rising from the ink-black water—endless, uncountable.

“Help! We’re under attack! A curse! We’re cursed!”

Gamis bolted for the cabin. Rupert snatched a harpoon gun, stabbing at a climbing skeleton. *Splash*—one fell, another took its place.

“What’s happening!”

The burly man who’d been with the youth rushed over, trousers half-fastened, cleaver in hand. He saw Rupert battling three skeletal sailors.

“Damn it! Kill them!”

He swung his spiked club, shattering one skull. But more skeletons kept climbing.

*Clang! Clang! Clang!*

The alarm bell rang. The lookout, jolted from sleep, finally realized this wasn’t a dream.

Chaos erupted belowdecks. Pirates poured out, lantern light revealing skeletal sailors swarming the deck.

“A… a curse! It’s a curse!”

“Run…”

“Idiot! We’re on a ship! Where to? Fight them!”

“Hold till dawn—we’ll be safe!”

Panic gave way to pirate ferocity. Trapped at sea, death loomed unless they repelled these cursed dead.

*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*

Explosions rocked the ship. Rupert, perched on higher deck planks, turned. A colossal vessel loomed in the distance.

Bone-white and massive, it dwarfed their ship. Its figurehead was a goddess—half rotting skeleton, half beautiful woman—unnerving and grotesque. Ghostly green wisps flitted around its hull. A Ghost Ship.

The giant vessel pivoted impossibly fast. *Snap… snap…* Gunports opened along its side, revealing black cannon muzzles. Fire flashed. Thunder roared. Rupert’s feet left the deck—he was airborne.

Years at sea told him: he’d been blasted off. He plummeted toward the black water. His ship’s mainmast lay shattered. Flames lit pirates scrambling amid skeletal butchers.

*Plop.*

Rupert hit the water. Below, countless skeletons crawled from the depths, scaling the hull. Then—nothing. The explosion had torn off half his body. Darkness swallowed him.

—

“Captain, the Undead have secured the deck. The Fire God Cannon shattered the enemy’s mainmast. Soul Sailors patrol the waters… They cannot escape.”

“Good work, Purames. Order them to surrender.”

“Yes, sir… But I see no use in keeping them alive.”

Pipe Master lowered his spyglass. Night meant nothing to Undead sight—but old habits from his Ma Xiaoming persona lingered.

“Hmm? What are humans to you, Purames?”

“Trash. Unworthy of existence. Too filthy even for slaves. With me, Faglas, or Greenland fighting? They’d be crushed like insects.”

“Guh… Is that so? As my trusted lieutenants—you, Faglas, Greenland, Golden Key, Silver Lock—I’d rather not reveal your full strength yet.”

*Ma Xiaoming’s instincts still cling. In my old novels, I’d have villains show off their powers early—letting heroes exploit weaknesses. But now? I must hide my strength. Yet… can’t seem weak. Play it vague. Give excuses.*

“I understand, Captain. You mean to control them… use them as cannon fodder?”

“Cannon fodder? Ahem… Yes. Purames, you read my mind.”

*Using them as bait… gauge enemy strength, then strike their weakness. Safer. No more reckless fights against unknowns. Purames is the perfect aide—smarter than Pipe Captain. But…*

“Exactly. This is merely step one…”

*(Can’t seem useless. Purames is sharper, but they must believe in me. Fake confidence.)*

“Understood. Your wisdom astounds me, Captain. Such use of these wretches is… perfect.”

“Hmm?”

“Controlling these worthless ones as outer-circle pawns hides our true power. They’ll be cannon fodder, decoys to lull enemies. And more… Since Pipe Master will rule all oceans, are you testing how to tame them early?”

“Uh… *(Rule the oceans? When did I say that? Do they all think this?)*”

He glanced at Faglas and Greenland. Their eyes burned with worship. *Can’t disappoint them.*

“Correct. Though not entirely…”

*(Honestly? I’ve no clue what I’m doing. But they need faith in me.)*

“Forgive my ignorance, Captain. Reveal your full plan—I and the others will die for it.”

“Uh… *(What plan?!)* Not yet. Still forming. You’ll know in time…”

“Yes! We eagerly await it.”

"Hmm... the battle over there seems to be over."

Ghosts reported in succession: all ships of the Merfolk Pirate Crew in the outer waters were secured. Scouting also located the target.

"Have the ghosts and skeletons guard these captives. Greenland, stay hidden and on standby. Purames and Faglas, you two follow me to confront Karl, leader of this pirate crew."

"Yes!"