In the private room of Liszt’s inn, where guests were not allowed to stay,
Liszt picked up a scabby feather pen and dipped it in ink, staring blankly at the blank letter paper, clueless about what to write.
After giving it some thought, he realized he had no grievances to share with Sharon; why cause her unnecessary worry?
The city I’m in has been voted the most fucked-up city in the multiverse—a so-called ’free’ camp filled to the brim with desperados.
Good morning, Heaven Port. Yesterday’s death lottery tallied up to a solid three hundred, thanks to the endless infighting of pirate gangs. The Shattered Ice Pirate Group alone lost over a hundred of their members.
I love this city, just as Archer loves his mum. Back in the day, Archer’s mother dumped him at the doorstep of an orphanage, and now when they bump into each other on the street, she’s asking Archer for a smoke. As for who Archer is, it doesn’t matter.
Of course, this story about Archer was fabricated by Liszt. Within the Black Sail, no one really knows the other crew members’ pasts—they’re just bound together by mutual interest.
"Fuck, what kind of rubbish am I writing?" Google seaʀᴄh N0velFire.ɴet
Liszt crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it on the floor. It’d been years since he had written in English, and he’d forgotten all the grammar.
Thinking of you makes me as solid as a rock, huh, disturbingly comforting.
"Fuck, what kind of rubbish."
We need to kick things into high gear immediately.
After pondering for a while, Liszt realized he was being overly sensitive. It was just a reply. Just scribbling anything should do—report that he’s safe and tell Sharon not to do anything stupid.
He wrote about his current plans, the series of events that had taken place, the Dragon, and the Netherworld Stele.
After some thought, he took out a fresh piece of letter paper, suspecting that his long life as a pirate had given him a case of paranoia.
It’s best to be safe in all matters.
Liszt dipped his pen into the ink again and jotted down a few simple things, making sure to come off as aloof. Only by being cold as ice could he ignite the flames of desire upon their next meeting.
In the end, he mentioned that he would soon be in Aran. He’d send her an anonymous letter then, and perhaps they could even meet up somewhere.
After finishing the letter, Liszt sealed it in an envelope and stamped the seal at the joining, not worrying if it was opened along the way. After all, he hadn’t written anything sensitive, and besides, it was all in English.
Having completed this task, Liszt felt a wave of relief wash over him, ridding him of his long-held tension. Everything at Heaven Port had been dealt with.
the nightlife of Heaven Port had just begun.
It was Captain Fafna’s first time truly exploring the shops, her curiosity piqued by everything she saw.
Goria was a renowned adventurer, wearing a mask for fear of being recognized.
Even so, the three women made for an exceptionally striking sight, turning heads as they passed by.
The textile industry in this world had reached a certain level, with ready-made clothing stores existing; although most items were one-size-fits-all, it was still best to pick out your own fabric and have a tailor design it for you.
Tailors had not been replaced by machines.
In the Outer City, one could casually pick out ready-to-wear clothing, but these were all stripped from the dead.
The Mixed Brand Pirate Group, when plundering ships, aimed to clean them out completely—their greed so great that not just clothes, but every flask and jar on the ship had to be taken back, like picking through garbage.
Of course, given the wealth of Dreya, she would naturally only shop in the Inner City. The outskirts of Heaven Port were no place for people to dwell.
"You and Liszt are in a sham marriage? That’s what I heard Liszt say,"
Goria casually remarked, wondering what Dreya saw in that bastard.
"Of course not. It’s legitimate, with clergy certification, and in a small country on the Southern Continent, there’s an official record of us as a married couple,"
In a proper country, of course, couples had to register their marriage with the civil registry, all that annoying stuff about heirs and such.
Although the law wasn’t sound and only documents with an official seal served as proof, there was still evidence to rely on.
It wasn’t just the nobles who were wealthy; legitimate countries also had some rich merchants and influential families who, despite not having titles, had money and needed laws to support matters related to property inheritance.
Liszt, though an unregistered outer space resident, had also casually settled in a small country during the early days of Black Sail to conduct various businesses.
Of course, once he rose to prominence, he became unregistered again, even among those with bounties on their heads.
Goria felt somewhat annoyed, recalling the day Dreya had taken her to that women’s club, thinking her "Jeda" persona had taken effect.
Dreya certainly noticed her little scheme and whispered in her ear, "It’s alright, my husband seems quite fond of you."
Goria’s arms broke out in goosebumps. Due to Dreya’s inscrutable depth, she momentarily failed to grasp her meaning.
"Don’t be afraid, I’ve already taught him a lesson."
Dreya lifted a strand of Goria’s aqua-colored hair behind her ear, gazing at her fair and soft neck - indeed the type that emitted the scent of a virgin.
"What are you doing?"
Goria felt some resistance, understanding that Dreya was just teasing, besides, she was a married woman.
"You should already know... I’m from the Blood Clan. This isn’t overstepping, later I can bring you home and taste you, harmlessly of course, just a light taste. You wouldn’t refuse, would you?"
Dreya combed Goria’s hair, her fingertips gently grazing her ear.
In an instant, Goria’s ears turned red, her physical response slightly overpowering her mental resistance.
She just hummed a faint yes.
"You two seem to have a great relationship."
Fafna ate the sort of thing children liked, a kind of fruit skewered on sticks coated with maple syrup.
Goria immediately felt embarrassed - what does this kid know.
Dreya visited the most frequented women’s clothing store, where the owner welcomed her with warm enthusiasm.
Running a clothing boutique at Heaven Port.
It was similar to the business of a café, the kind run by Baosi. Pirates on the island would wear the same piece of clothing for a year, and the "socialites" of the island weren’t much different. They liked cheap clothes, all backed by big shots seeking refuge.
"Fafna, pick whatever you like, your sister here will pay for it."
Dreya shamelessly referred to herself as "sister."
"I want to wear that disfigured man’s clothes, they’re so cool."
Fafna still stuck to her personal tastes.
Dreya was speechless yet relieved, it seemed this girl liked gender-neutral things.
There was a faction of fierce women in Heaven Port who dressed as men and lived the perilous life of pirates. Although none like that existed in Black Sail, other pirate groups had many such members, even among their core ranks.
"Then let’s dress you up as a handsome young man."
Dreya did Fafna’s hair and selected several items for her with good taste: a frilly white lantern-sleeve shirt, brown riding breeches, long boots, and a black cloth belt.
After changing in the dressing room.
Fafna emerged, having found a feathered tricorn hat to wear.
"Hehe, Captain Fafna makes a grand entrance, next destination... the cake shop!"
She swung an imaginary Spear Sword, spouting cringe-worthy lines.
Dreya’s eyes lit up, Fafna might have been a bit childish, but she had style and was utterly charming, a feast for the eyes.
"What are you doing?"
Goria suddenly felt something at her waist.
"I’m taking your measurements; you should change your clothes too, stop wearing that leather armor all the time."
Dreya measured her with her fingers at the ready.