Chapter 69

Imagining the day when the noble captain would one day wear a cheap trinket around his neck, the navigator grinned and subconsciously reached to touch the tattoo on his buttocks. It had started to scab over and was itchy, but if he pressed hard with his fingertips, it still hurt a bit—

Fuck, this feeling, it’s like love.

He managed to make his own teeth ache from the cheesiness of the thought and was just about to drag the dog next to him into the same sentiment when suddenly, a sharp smack landed on his wrist. Miguel was startled and turned to find the man beside him glaring at him with a dark expression. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, “What’s your problem?”

As soon as the question left his mouth, Caesar began to sneer. The familiar expression reminded Miguel—over the past few days, Big Dog had been most displeased whenever he saw him scratching his butt. Whether it was a verbal jab or a full-on beating, scratching his ass while walking seemed to have crossed the captain’s bottom line.

“I just scratched it, it’s itchy! Doesn’t your wound itch when it’s scabbing? You’re not some immortal who can be all holy and not take a shit, are you?”

Caesar ignored him and continued walking ahead. The navigator stopped scratching and hurried after him, reaching out to grab him. The captain’s face darkened as he swiftly dodged, his obsessive-compulsive tendencies kicking in, “Did you wash your hands after scratching your ass?”

“I didn’t stick my hand in there!” Miguel said indignantly, “I scratched over my pants!”

“And your pants are clean?!”

“They’re not mine,” the thief said with a sly grin, “I took them from your closet this morning. Good quality, but the waist is a bit loose. Maybe you should consider losing some weight—ow—you’re hitting me! Damn it, this is called lashing out in embarrassment, got it? Got it?!”

Behind them, a group of rough-and-tumble pirates started laughing uncontrollably. Rick, walking at the front, laughed the loudest, being the first mate. Beside him was Bakir, the ship’s doctor, who not only had the entire fleet of over a thousand people relying on him but also had just received his salary of six hundred gold coins, which made him bold enough to shout, “Just get together already!” and “The world would be a better place if you two just got together!”

Meanwhile, the navigator buzzed around like a fly, hopping and skipping beside the captain.

The captain walked ahead with a face as dark as Judge Bao’s, striding forward briskly, feeling like his life had never been this chaotic before.

He had a headache. How had he ended up picking up such a disaster?

When they reached the entrance of the Dite Bar, the group behind them was still laughing and joking. Miguel had left his side and joined Rick’s group, sharing his thoughts. The crew was mostly discussing “how scary the captain usually is,” with the navigator’s main point being, “I’m telling you, the captain’s hair sticks up when he just wakes up—”

Miguel had always had a good rapport with the crew of the Wind Fury. Caesar had always thought it was due to his own ridiculous personality and the fact that he often got punished and sent to do menial tasks, which had earned him a solid foundation among the crew… Now, it seemed there was another reason: he was the center of gossip for the entire Wind Fury. No wonder even the deck scrubbers knew that the captain preferred whiskey over small beer, and if there was no whiskey, rum would do.

Over the years, the little bit of mystique Caesar had painstakingly maintained as the captain had been completely destroyed by the little gossip squad leader he had brought into his life.

At the entrance of the Dite Bar, the night was at its liveliest. The noise of laughter and chatter from inside the bar could be heard through the not-so-soundproof door. The captain stopped at the entrance, and the laughter behind him died down a bit. When he turned around and looked at the group of burly men with a blank expression, the laughter died down even more. When his cold, aloof gaze swept over their faces and he asked indifferently, “What’s so funny?” the group behind him finally returned to being the ferocious, bloodthirsty, and undefeated vanguard of the Wind Fury.

Satisfied, Caesar nodded and turned to push open the bar door.

Almost as soon as he opened the door, Caesar sensed something was off—even though the bar owner greeted him with a smile, there was a hint of forced cheerfulness in his expression.

The people in the bar were the same. The earlier noise had disappeared, and everyone had put down their glasses to stare at the man standing at the entrance. Their expressions… were as if Caesar had announced with a megaphone that the world would end in an hour.

Loosening his shirt collar to reveal the tanned, healthy skin beneath, the man’s sturdy frame and tall stature exuded mature masculinity. The gem on the pistol at his waist gleamed with value, and the entire aura of the man attracted the admiring gazes of the prostitutes. As he walked deeper into the bar, Caesar’s face remained expressionless.

At this point, the bar owner’s unease became even more apparent.

The heavy sound of riding boots on the creaky wooden floor seemed to pound on the owner’s heart—just as the bar owner was about to have a heart attack, the man finally stopped and turned around, “Where’s Zhizhi?”

When Caesar asked this, his tone was still relatively mild. But the bar owner only lowered his head, not daring to say a word. Unexpectedly, Caesar smiled—it was the Black Sea Wolf’s signature “King of Hell” smile. Every time he wore this expression, it meant some unlucky soul was about to suffer—

“Speak,” the captain said coldly, “Where’s that piece of trash?”

Which one? The people behind the captain exchanged puzzled looks.

It definitely wasn’t the woman named Zhizhi… Although he was inherently cruel, capricious, and unreasonable, Caesar at least knew how to put on a facade in front of women. Otherwise, the title of “Gentleman of the Sea” wouldn’t have fallen to him. Rick shrugged, indicating that after following the captain for so long, he had never heard him call a woman “trash”—

So, who was he talking about?

Miguel stood beside Rick, feeling deeply sympathetic for the bar owner. But by now, he had learned not to step forward and become a scapegoat (…). The bar owner would just have to endure it, closing his eyes, gritting his teeth, and—

Crash—

Miguel: “…”

Wiping the sweat off his brow, he deeply felt that it was a miracle he had survived these past few days of frequently challenging the captain’s authority. The navigator took a step back and hid behind the first mate once again.

Not far from him, the captain pulled his foot out of the hole he had just kicked into the bar counter, his expression as calm as if he hadn’t just flipped the entire bar. Most of the bar’s customers had already fled, but the seasoned prostitutes were unfazed, their eyes still shining as they stared at the domineering man—

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

With a dark expression, the captain’s face seemed to be brewing a storm. Though he hadn’t done anything too outrageous yet, his anger was already evident in his amber eyes. In the flickering light of the kerosene lamp, the color of his eyes seemed to darken, and his cold gaze cut through the bar owner like a sharp blade.

The bar owner looked like he was about to collapse to the ground. Miguel frowned, feeling that the owner’s untimely silence was a sign of low intelligence.

“It seems your sincerity isn’t enough, so I’ll have to find my own way.” The man sneered, casually waving his hand to the group of ferocious pirates behind him and uttering two simple words—

“Burn it.”

If you won’t give me the person, I’ll just burn your place to the ground. When everything turns to ash, I’ll find that person one way or another—this was Caesar’s brand of bandit logic. Rick had once told Miguel with a laugh that when Caesar negotiated with people, he usually preferred to do it with a gun to their head. At the time, Miguel had refused to believe it, thinking Rick was just slandering the captain. But today, he believed it.

Watching the group of pirates howl as they smashed kerosene lamps, chewing on cigarette butts and splashing the oil all over the sofas, the bar’s customers fled like startled birds. Rick hummed a tune as he flicked the still-glowing cigarette butt in his hand, landing it perfectly on the sofa that had been full of people just moments ago. The flames quickly spread—

Standing amidst the group of wildly laughing pirates, Miguel had no choice but to believe.

Killing and burning—it wasn’t just an adjective. Like the word “ask” from last night, for these damn pirates, it was a vivid… everyday verb.

When Rick picked up a chair to smash the windows, Miguel, as a civilized office worker, felt a deep sense of discomfort. He patted the first mate’s shoulder and said, “Let’s just stop.”

Without turning around, Caesar let out what sounded like a sneer, “Can’t take it anymore?”

Miguel: “…A little.”

The captain didn’t respond. He lifted his foot and kicked the bar owner, who had completely collapsed on the ground, with a look of disgust and impatience, “Then think of a way to make this waste talk. Where’s the person I’m looking for?”

Miguel: “Okay, wait… He just wet his pants.”

Caesar: “…Then let’s not get close to him. It’s dirty. Bakir?”

The civilized Bakir, who had been standing aside watching the commotion the whole time: “What?”

With his hands in his pockets, the captain slowly turned around, his gaze shifting between the two office workers, “Blindfold Miguel and throw him outside. Bring him back in after we’re done burning.”

Miguel: “…”

Over by the windows, Rick had already started dismantling them, leading the charge captain toward the liquor shelves—they weren’t drinking or looting, just smashing everything to burn.

Miguel looked at the bar owner on the ground, whose face had turned green with distress. The navigator was momentarily confused, unsure who the bar owner was so determined to protect—

Just then, a door creaked open from the depths of the corridor.

Caesar paused, his gaze locking onto the dark end of the hallway.

Three seconds later, the man snapped his fingers, and as if the pirates had a third ear specifically tuned to the captain, the chaotic sounds of destruction stopped almost simultaneously. Rick clicked his tongue and tossed aside the chair he had been holding.

The chair thudded against the wall, the last loud sound in the bar.

Miguel stood on tiptoe, peering over Caesar’s shoulder to follow the captain’s gaze. In the corridor, a figure was slowly walking toward them—

The figure wasn’t tall.

The figure had long hair, the ends swaying as they walked, like a young girl.

Hmm, like a young girl.

Miguel pursed his lips, his heels dropping back to the ground with disinterest.

He should have known. In this world, the only person who could make Caesar this furious, aside from his troublesome brother Leoza, was either not yet born or already dead.

It seemed they were too late. The captain of the Hornet, who possessed that mysterious compass, had also come here for the same purpose.