Chapter 43: Calm Scour

Chapter 43: Calm Scour

Raising his head to glance at the wall clock and seeing that it was already past eight, Alger set down the thick glass mug in his hand, squeezed through the drunkards moving back and forth, and stepped out onto the street.

Because the Rorsted Archipelago possessed abundant coal resources, Bayam, like continental cities such as Backlund and Pritz Harbor, had black gas lamp posts as tall as a person standing by the roadside. The light of burning gas shone through metal grilles, illuminating the fairly clean ground.

Alger tugged at his headscarf and leisurely turned into a small alley at the side. At the sealed-off end, he caught the smell of urine mixed with liquor.

Although the Fragrant Tree Leaf Bar had washrooms, they were clearly insufficient for the number of customers during peak hours. Certain drunkards who could not hold it in, or who could not wait, had no choice but to come out and search for quiet places to relieve themselves.

Red moonlight pierced the clouds and spilled into the alley. Just as Alger was still considering whether he should make his act a little more convincing, a strong, rich voice carrying hidden amusement sounded from behind him.

“You deliberately leaked Blazing’s information to us?”

Not stupid after all… Alger muttered inwardly. He slowly turned around, appearing to guard against a sudden attack.

Seven or eight steps away, he saw a figure leaning against the wall with terrible posture.

The figure was about 1.78 meters tall, wearing a boat-shaped hat. His face was thin, sharply contoured, and outwardly quite aggressive.

A lock of black hair hung down, half covering his dark-green left eye. This softened the cold hardness of his appearance somewhat.

Although wanted portraits often differed greatly from the real person, and many famous pirates did not even need to disguise themselves when wandering through cities, Alger, as a member of the Church, had seen many portraits almost as accurate as photographs drawn through ritual methods. He had also attended pirates’ gatherings. Thus, he smoothly connected the man before him with a certain name on the bounty list.

He did not reveal this. Instead, he deliberately hesitated and asked in return, “Calm Scour?”

This was one of Steel Maviti’s main helpers: a Beyonder skilled at controlling his emotions and thinking calmly, but utterly devoid of humanity. His bounty was 1,500 pounds.

The man pulled at his black windbreaker. Smiling without any mirth, he said, “Can I deny it?

“Mm… It seems not. Just as you cannot deny that you deliberately mentioned Blazing in front of Oruma. He is not someone who likes using his brain, while I am exactly the opposite.”

“I never intended to hide it. I simply hope to exchange the information I obtained for a reward. Between Blazing alone and Steel with many helpers, anyone with a normal brain knows which one to choose. Of course, I hope you keep it secret for me. I do not wish to be hunted by Vice Admiral Iceberg,” Alger answered calmly.

Scour nodded leisurely and slowly.

“Tell me the details.”

“As I mentioned earlier, I encountered and recognized Blazing at the Gold Coin Casino. He commissioned me to pay attention to Steel’s movements. Heh, he seems to want to strike back.” Alger laughed coldly. “We agreed on a contact point. I believe this intelligence is worth at least one thousand pounds.”

“One thousand pounds? Look up at the red moon. You are not dreaming!” Scour gave a scoff. “This may be a trap. Do you still not understand? Blazing very likely found helpers, which is why he dares to search for us in return.”

“Whether it is a trap should not be for me to judge. Five hundred pounds. Below that amount, I would rather pretend nothing happened.” Alger fought for his compensation with apparent reason.

“Three hundred pounds. You come with me to a place and stay there for a while so you do not sell this information to anyone else and disrupt our plan. Once we truly use this intelligence to catch Blazing, or channel his spirit, we will pay you. Do not worry. Food, fine liquor, and a bed will all be free. No matter what, you will profit. If some accident traces back to you, heh, you should know the consequences.” Scour made the proposal in a tone that allowed no refusal.

As expected, just as I predicted. With my background unclear and my threat level not too high, they are far more likely to temporarily detain me than silence me… Of course, I also made preparations for the worst. As long as I am not careless, escaping will not be a problem… Alger pretended to think over the matter with difficulty, then said, “No more than two days. Otherwise, my crew will take my ship and leave.”

“If it goes past two days, I will notify them.” At some point, a sharp scalpel had appeared in Scour’s palm. He let it leap and spin like a circus performer.

After Alger described in detail the contact point at Number 15 Fragrant Tree Avenue and the corresponding method of communication, Scour said nothing more. He turned and led the way, taking Alger through turn after turn until they reached an unknown street and entered an utterly ordinary house.

“Long time no see, blue-haired captain of the ghost ship.” The one who opened the door was an old man whose hair was more white than black. He dressed like a local, wearing wide-legged trousers.

“Old Quinn. You really are Admiral of Blood’s intelligence officer…” Alger spoke in feigned astonishment.

Old Quinn chuckled.

“Rumors are always partly true and partly false. What you think is false may turn out to be true.”

He did not turn on the gas wall lamp. Holding a silver candlestick, he led Alger and Scour through the dark hall and into a spacious, sturdy, windowless basement.

“You will stay here for some time. A few friends and I will be responsible for watching over you and providing food and drink.” Old Quinn laughed as he spoke. “To show our sincerity, we will not disarm you.”

“Fine.” Alger took the initiative to walk toward the low bed inside the basement.

Old Quinn then shut the heavy stone door and locked the basement.

Scour did not remain there. He left in a hurry and repeatedly confirmed whether anyone was following him.

After switching hired carriages once, he arrived at Bayam’s Loenese district—the area where upper-class people lived.

Entering a garden villa, Scour saw Maviti leaning against the sitting room sofa, waiting for him. Several other companions either lay, stood, or sat, forming a semicircle, while marionettes and living corpses served as sentries around them.

Steel Maviti had thick lips, dark skin, and locks of curled hair that resembled the steel balls commonly seen in factories.

“Is the information reliable?” The muscles of his arms twitched, giving off an impression of extreme strength. Yet, overall, he felt cold and sinister, not at all like a living creature.

Scour nodded.

“A pirate captain who works for money. I have already detained him at Old Quinn’s place. If there is truly a problem, he certainly will not be able to leave alive. I believe he understands that very well.”

At this point, Scour revealed an icy smile.

“However, we must still guard against accidents. This may be Blazing Danitz’s trap.”

“What methods do you have?” Maviti asked directly.

His gaze first turned to a pirate lying on a long sofa. The man wore a coffee-brown local short robe, his fingers spinning a yellow-brown straw hat with a dented crown.

This was Maviti’s deputy for this operation: the sixth captain who had lost his ship in the previous battle against Vice Admiral Twilight, Bloodthorn Huntley, with a bounty of 3,800 pounds.

“Clearly, Scour already has a plan.” Huntley covered his rather pale face with the straw hat.

Scour chuckled.

“Didn’t that group of adventurers led by John Smith send Modo to hide his identity and join us? Carelessly leak this information to him, and let him think we are still waiting for reinforcements and will not act until the day after tomorrow, or the day after that.

“That greedy group of adventurers will definitely not let Blazing go. They will certainly strike first. When the time comes, we will find a place to watch. If there truly is an accident, they can bear it. If everything goes smoothly, we can eat them together as well.”

“Good.” Steel Maviti’s eyes moved slightly, releasing intense bloodthirst.

…

In the early hours before dawn, all preparations were complete.

Bloodthorn Huntley lifted a leather suitcase and removed a peacock-blue carpet from within, slowly spreading it before them. Many mysterious, strange patterns adorned its surface, carrying a faintly inhuman flavor.

Maviti, Scour, two other Beyonders, and seven or eight living corpses and marionettes stepped onto it one after another.

Huntley entered last. Half closing his eyes, he silently recited a word in Elvish:

“Fly!”

The peacock-blue carpet abruptly tightened and floated upward, carrying the group off the ground and into midair, flying toward Fragrant Tree Avenue.

During this process, Huntley took out a black handkerchief, flicked his wrist, and transformed it into a curtain of night, wondrously concealing every trace that would have been obvious beneath the moonlight.

After only seven or eight minutes, they arrived near Number 20 Fragrant Tree Avenue. The target house stood diagonally across from them.

They did not advance farther. Instead, they allowed the flying carpet to hover quietly before the crown of a thick tree, looking down on the situation at the target.

Time passed minute by minute. Huntley controlled this magical item steadily, showing no sign of insufficient spirituality.

The long night slowly passed. The horizon began to turn faintly red, and the sun was about to rise. Steel Maviti’s group started preparing to search for another observation point suitable for the daytime.

Just then, a figure bent low and moved agilely across the rooftops, arriving above Number 15 Fragrant Tree Avenue.

He wore a black cloak, with scorched-yellow brows, deep-blue eyes, and comparatively soft features and contours. It was Blazing Danitz!

Danitz cautiously looked left and right for a while, then climbed up the protruding chimney. Supporting himself with one hand, he slipped inside and slid downward.

He really came? Steel Maviti, Bloodthorn Huntley, Scour, and the others all grew alert at once.

At that moment, several figures shot out from the chimneys of Numbers 13, 14, and 17, as well as from hidden spots around the area. Moving with swift momentum, they attacked Number 15 from different positions, either smashing through windows, kicking open doors, or entering through chimneys.