Chapter 40

Wiping away her tears, the moonlight shone on Margarita’s pale hand, where the water droplets instantly solidified into various shapes and sizes, falling like grains of rice before rolling into the corners of the room. Not far away, Caesar’s younger sister still stared with hollow eyes. For a moment, Miguel almost thought he was mistaken—her eyelashes seemed to twitch.

Miguel: “…” Big Dog, Earth is terrifying. I want to go back to Mars.

At that moment, the beauty beside him turned her head, flashing a radiant smile at the navigator whose worldview had just been completely overturned. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

…Not just scared, but scared to death. Miguel opened his mouth, but found it incredibly difficult to say anything pleasant to that beautiful face. In the end, he just turned his head away, forcing himself not to look at those dazzling white teeth. After a shiver, he muttered, “No, I’m fine.”

“Stop playing around, Margarita,” Caesar’s voice came from not far away, filled with impatience.

Margarita burst into laughter, bending over and slapping Miguel’s fragile back with her hand. Between her giggles, she gasped, “I’m not a mermaid! I’m human, human!”

“Margaret is still alive too,” Caesar said, glancing at the little girl sitting motionless in the chair. He turned to Miguel and explained, “She just looks like she’s dead right now—she has a strange illness that makes her fall into this state at night and wake up at dawn.”

“My poor little Margaret. During the day, we usually sink into the water. At night, we can only stay in this room. My dear daughter hasn’t seen the real sky in who knows how many years.”

Miguel: “Sink into the water? O口O?”

“It’s a long, long story,” Margarita said with a smile, though it was tinged with a strange emotion. She turned to Caesar, as if seeking his approval. “Can we trust your little friend?”

Being called “little friend” by a girl who looked to be in her twenties… Miguel felt like a herd of elephants was stampeding through his mind.

“Do whatever you want,” Caesar said, pulling a dusty chair from the corner of the room and sitting down without a care. He crossed his legs, folded his arms, and said impatiently, “If you’re going to tell a story, hurry up. It’s almost dawn, isn’t it?”

Where should this story begin?

Let’s start from when Margarita was just an ordinary little girl.

Margarita was born in Ireland. Her father was a renowned shipbuilder in the area. When Margarita was eleven, her mother passed away, and her father raised her on his own. By the time she turned eighteen, her father left Ireland for Algiers, where he earned a considerable fortune with his exceptional craftsmanship from various ship captains.

Life seemed like it would never be calm. When Margarita was nineteen, she found a half-dead pirate on the beach (Miguel instinctively turned to look at Big Dog, who snorted and retorted, “What are you looking at?”). This pirate was none other than Lyle, the leader of a fleet of fifteen ships at the time (Miguel couldn’t help but glance at Caesar again).

What followed was a cliché, yet entirely predictable story. Lyle fell in love with Margarita (Miguel looked at Caesar again, who sneered), and when Margarita turned twenty, they held their wedding on Lyle’s ship. Amidst the turmoil of history, Lyle realized he couldn’t leave Margarita in Algiers, seeing her only once a year. Despite the objections of others, he took Margarita aboard the Lady Lovibond.

At least up to this point, the story was beautiful and touching.

Or was it?

Obviously not.

During their year together, Lyle’s first mate, Reins, also fell in love with the lively and unpretentious Margarita. Around this time, Lyle’s volatile temper began to show. Constant arguments and even physical fights made life on the Lady Lovibond increasingly unpleasant—something Reins couldn’t ignore.

Finally, one day, when Lyle pulled out a pistol and pointed it at Margarita’s temple, Reins realized things couldn’t go on like this. During one voyage, he deliberately led the ship into uncharted waters, where they encountered a mysterious whirlpool. The Lady Lovibond and the rest of the fleet sank near what is now Palma Island. Reins, who had prepared in advance, escaped with Margarita, becoming the sole survivors of the entire fleet.

As for Lyle, he sank into the ocean with his fleet.

Before the Lady Lovibond sank, the infamous pirate uttered a vicious curse—

“Even if God allows me to sail to the end of the world, I will do my utmost! Your descendants will also meet a terrible end, betrayed, plagued, and buried at sea!”

On a small assault boat, Margarita watched her husband sink into the depths. At that moment, the sun rose over the horizon, its warm light giving her the illusion that “it’s all over.”

Margarita was twenty-two that year, and she never managed to live a peaceful life with Reins.

They discovered that, no matter what, they could no longer approach land. Whenever they got close, violent storms would arise. No matter how clear the weather was, towering waves would suddenly rise from the sea, and no matter how hard they rowed, they would eventually be swallowed by the monstrous waves.

Then they realized they would always wake up on the Lady Lovibond.

Lyle’s curse had succeeded. Reins and Margarita were forever bound to his ship.

“Later, we had Caesar and Margaret,” Margarita said calmly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “As the saying goes, if you can’t fight fate, you might as well lie down and let it have its way, then take the opportunity to impregnate fate and mentally violate it in return.”

Miguel: “…” That’s not how the textbook puts it, ma’am.

“Caesar turned out relatively healthy, but Margaret seemed to have contracted a strange illness—all the doctors said she wouldn’t live past fifteen. Then, when she was five, Reins died in an accident. Before he passed, he hoped that Margaret, Caesar, and I could live on.” Margarita said, “For some reason, the last words of various captains seem to be taken very seriously by the sea gods—I mean, why would you believe the ramblings of someone on their deathbed, right?”

Miguel: “…”

Caesar: “…”

“So Reins’ last words, all his nonsensical final wishes, also came true—he left behind three eternal things: forever twenty-eight-year-old me, forever fifteen-year-old Margaret, and Reins’ penis.”

Miguel: “…His what?”

Margarita said expressionlessly, “Penis.”

She stood up, pulled out a delicate wooden box from under Margaret’s chair, and handed it to Miguel.

Miguel, whose brain had just been struck by lightning, numbly took it… Caesar’s father’s penis.

“Probably to keep me company,” Margarita said with a hint of embarrassment. “Though it has been quite lonely—but don’t worry, I’ve resisted the urge to use it—do you want to take a look?”

Miguel: “…No thanks.”

Margarita gave him a look that said he didn’t know what he was missing. “Really? A forever-erect penis, you know.”

Miguel turned to Caesar in desperation. The latter was leaning on his hand, seemingly unfazed by the scene. He snapped his fingers and said very calmly, “Not as big as mine.”

Miguel: “…”

Caesar: “Don’t look at me with that expectant gaze. Even in death, I wouldn’t cut off my little brother and put it in a box.”

Thank you, as the only one in your family who doesn’t seem completely insane. Miguel applauded his own good judgment (not really).

“After Caesar’s father died, I drifted alone at sea,” Margarita said absently, playing with her fingers. “Occasionally, I’d rescue lost souls from the sea, and they became my crew—ah, I once rescued a Spanish shipowner, and then…”

Then? Miguel remembered that Leoza was Spanish.

Indeed.

“Actually, Reins was right. Drifting at sea for too long can get lonely, otherwise, how would there be a Leoza… Not that I’m complaining about Leoza, I do feel sorry for little Za.” The beautiful woman said without a hint of guilt. “But it was my own carelessness. Who knew one casual encounter could result in a pregnancy?”

Miguel: “…”

Caesar: “Enough already.”

Margarita walked over to her irritable eldest son, reached out, and touched his stern face. She muttered, “But after all these years, Lyle’s words still worry me. When I heard your fleet was sunk by the Barbarossa brothers at Djerba Island because of a betrayal, I was scared out of my wits—thank goodness you’re okay.”

“Why that look? I’m still alive and well, aren’t I?” Caesar said, very unfilially frowning.

“So what are you going to do about the person who betrayed you on your ship?” Margarita pressed on. “What’s his name, Billy, right?”

Billy? The charge captain?

Miguel saw Caesar freeze.

Then the tall man stood up from the armchair, strode over to Miguel, grabbed him, and started dragging him out, saying as he went, “Got it, I’ll take care of him.”

Margarita: “That dismissive tone says it all.”

Caesar, dragging Miguel along, said, “Stop nagging, I said I’ll do it!”

Margarita, holding up her skirt, chased after them, “Son, you’re thirty-two! When will you grow out of your rebellious phase? Mom’s just worried about you!”

Caesar suddenly stopped.

Margarita, following closely behind, bumped into his sturdy back.

“It’s almost dawn, Margarita.”

“I know.”

“Time to sink.”

“Bastard son.”

“Goodbye.”

“…Wait, wait, wait!”

Just as Caesar, with Miguel tucked under his arm, grabbed a rope to swing back to the Wind Fury, Margarita grabbed his sleeve from behind—

The beautiful woman once again flashed that silly, radiant smile. “You’re going to Spain, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do your best, but don’t worry too much about our affairs.”

Caesar paused, then turned his face away. “Got it.”

“And Spain is Leoza’s territory. When you get there, don’t pick fights with him. You’re the older brother, you have to be the bigger person.”

“It’s him who wants to put me on the gallows!”

“Give me a kiss before you go.”

“Are you serious?”

“Quick! The sun’s about to rise!”

Mwah—

Turning back, the thirty-two-year-old tyrant of a captain reluctantly planted a kiss on the cheek of the beautiful woman who was tilting her face up. She smiled contentedly, but before she could say anything, Caesar had already tightly gripped the rope, tucked Miguel under his arm, and swung back to the Wind Fury with practiced ease.

When the two of them landed back on the chaotic, human-filled Wind Fury, greeted by a chorus of “Good morning, Captain” and “Morning, Miguel,” the fiery red sun was slowly rising on the horizon.

Beside the Wind Fury, massive waves rose, and the Lady Lovibond was slowly submerged by the sea, surrounded by waves that churned up countless fine bubbles.

The hull, the gunwale, the Jolly Roger—until the very tip of the Lady Lovibond’s mast disappeared beneath the waves, the sea finally returned to its calm—as if nothing had ever happened.

Amber eyes gazed quietly at the calm sea for a long time.

Then, the captain of the Wind Fury turned around and barked at the group of stunned crew members on the deck—

“Haven’t we wasted enough time already? What are you all standing around for, you garbage! Set sail for Spain, full speed ahead!”