Chapter 16

“……”

“Fifty gold coins, includes a suite on the second floor and breakfast service. Enjoy your stay, respected Captain Caesar.” The tavern owner, Fugar, leaned against the bar with a smile, raising his glass in Caesar’s direction.

Fugar’s words seemed to awaken all the stunned patrons in the tavern. Someone in the crowd started with a whistle, followed by a cacophony of teasing and lewd blessings.

“Well done, Caesar!”

“Show that little vixen what you’re made of!”

“Make her cry! Make her cry!”

“Salute to your manhood!! Black Sea Wolf!”

Amid the excited cheers of the patrons, no one noticed the dancer in Caesar’s arms rolling her eyes fiercely. The “little vixen” wrapped her strong, elven arms around the man’s neck, but… oh, who the hell cared? The cheers grew louder, almost lifting the roof off the Babatra Tavern.

“Good value for the price.” The man chuckled lazily and, amid the blessings (or rather, the uproar) of the crowd, swaggered up the stairs to the second-floor suite with his “beauty” in his arms.

No one knew that when the tavern’s noise was muffled by the thick wooden floorboards, isolating the commotion to the narrow space downstairs, our respected “Gentleman of the Sea,” Captain Caesar, finally revealed his true ruffian nature—kicking open the suite door with a long leg. When his eyes landed on the massive bed in the center of the room, he didn’t hesitate to toss the person in his arms onto the bed in a parabolic arc.

Bang—

That was the sound of the suite door being slammed shut.

Click—

That was the sound of the suite door being locked.

Adjusting his landing posture to avoid an undignified sprawl, Miguel sat up, cleared his throat, and was about to say something when he looked up and noticed his “big dog” staring at a certain spot with his amber eyes. Following the gaze, Miguel paused, then expressionlessly pulled down his skirt, which had accidentally ridden up during the landing, covering his floral boxer shorts.

“Should I commend you for your professionalism? Even shaved your leg hair.”

“Aw, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Still playing?”

“……”

With a cold laugh, the man strode steadily toward the edge of the bed. The soft mattress sank slightly under his weight, and by the time Miguel realized it, Caesar’s tall figure was already looming over him. The man half-knelt by the bed, leaning forward—oh, to be clear, they were almost face to face, noses nearly touching. In short, they had crossed the “safe distance that should be maintained between gentlemen.”

Miguel gave the man an innocent smile and puckered his lips, but before he could touch anything he shouldn’t, his chin was firmly grabbed by a large hand.

“If you dare to leave your cheap, bright red, gaping maw of a lipstick mark on any part of my body,” the Black Sea Wolf growled in a low, hoarse voice, full of threat, “trust me, you’re dead.”

Pinned to the bed with the man’s strong arms on either side of his body, Miguel’s legs were splayed open—given that he was wearing a skirt, this was definitely not a flattering position, but he had no choice, as Caesar’s knee was wedged between his legs. Relaxing his limbs, Miguel looked up at the man from below—

For most people, looking down tends to make facial muscles sag, so it’s usually an unflattering angle—but clearly, this didn’t apply to our great Captain Caesar. He once again proved with his prowess that being handsome meant being flawless from every angle.

“If you’ve decided to continue your career as a stripper, for the meager price of fifty gold coins a night, why not come to my ship?” Caesar whispered, his voice low and seductive as he gazed into the still-bright dark eyes in the darkness. “I can pay you three hundred gold coins a month.”

“Should I remind you that a month has thirty days?” Miguel smiled, reaching up to cup Big Dog’s face and pinching his cheeks. “And sometimes there’s a surprising thirty-first day.”

“Don’t push your luck, you perverted fisherman. That’s the salary I pay my first mate.”

“For a job where you’re risking your neck, it’s hard to get excited.”

“Enough nonsense. Why else would you be here tonight?” Caesar leaned closer, and now, he and Miguel were once again close enough to breathe each other’s air. “I don’t believe you just wanted to seduce me into bed.”

Well, that could be considered one of the reasons. Miguel thought for a moment and said bluntly, “Lake’s indenture contract?”

“Not a chance.”

How direct, you bastard. Miguel wasn’t angry but instead smiled. “Actually—”

The young man’s hand slid down the man’s face, tracing the curve of his perfect jaw, the sexy Adam’s apple that vibrated as he spoke, and finally resting on his chest. Before Caesar could react, Miguel pushed hard—the bed creaked under the strain—

Now, let’s wipe the lens and effortlessly observe the change in the room’s situation—

On the messy bed, the barefoot dancer in a fluffy skirt was lying on top of the most badass captain in the Mediterranean, his legs straddling the man’s thighs, with one knee pressing lightly against that sensitive and fragile area between Caesar’s legs.

“A life for a life, Captain.” With one hand on Caesar’s chest, Miguel lifted the other and flirtatiously hooked a finger under the man’s chin. “I saved your dog’s life. Now, I’m using it to buy Lake’s freedom. Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

Slapping away the other’s unruly hand, Caesar smiled dangerously. If you’ve spent any time in the Mediterranean, you should at least know the little rule that “the Black Sea Wolf never yields to any threat”—but as the saying goes, “a newborn calf isn’t afraid of a tiger,” so he decided to temporarily forgive this reckless perverted fisherman.

“That does sound fair,” Caesar replied lazily. “But I remember, about two weeks ago, you asked me for ‘the perfect dagger.’ I spent half an hour picking it out from my collection for you—the masterpiece of the ‘Master Craftsman’ Ganderwolf, inlaid with three sapphires and eighteen first-class cat’s eyes, worth tens of thousands of gold coins on the black market.”

“……” Clearly not expecting this, Miguel was slightly stunned, and the smile on his face faded a little.

“That’s right, I remember.” This time, it was Caesar’s turn to smile brightly. “Well, aren’t I generous?”

“I don’t need the dagger anymore.” Miguel’s playful mood vanished. He moved off the man and said with a serious expression, “Set Lake free. He can’t be a pirate anymore.”

“Why?” Caesar sat up casually—now, the two sat on the bed, finally in a more normal negotiating position. “He’s only lost one arm. There are countless prosthetics on my ship that he can use—”

A brief silence.

“Ah, ah,” the man said with a wicked smile, propping his chin up with one hand as he sat cross-legged. “Seems like there’s some unspeakable trouble here. Tsk, such a touching and enviable father-son relationship.”

Reaching out, he mimicked Miguel’s earlier gesture, hooking a finger under the other’s chin and forcing him to look up and meet his gaze. “I once promised you more,” Caesar said, the corners of his lips curving into a smile, though the warmth didn’t reach his amber eyes. “You were the one who refused me.”

“……”

“Before me, no one has ever been allowed to regret. That’s my rule.”

“……”

“Don’t be nervous, perverted fisherman. I’ve always been an easygoing man.”

A brief chuckle, low and magnetic, echoed in the dark room, mingling with the distant clamor from downstairs, sounding both close and ethereal—

“Exchange yourself for him. Join my ship, and I’ll set him free.”