Chapter 304: Chapter 304

"Damn these mortals. Once I become the Pirate King, I'll make them all pay..."

Piss'er waited until the police had turned the next corner. A carriage clattered past, rushing into the night and out of sight. Only then did he emerge, head hunched low and hands shoved deep into his pockets.

He knew he was on edge, but it would all be worth it.

"If I can just... if I can just..."

He schemed about the future, his right hand rising to touch his chest through his thin shirt.

"Hmph, damn this weather."

Another shiver wracked his body. He shook his head like a drenched dog. Leaning against the stone wall of a corner shop, he took a couple of deep breaths. Only when the dizziness faded did he stagger onward.

He covered two blocks before his right hand dipped into his pocket, pulling out a small, copper-colored key. But just as he turned into an alley, he froze.

A figure in a black robe stood in the middle of the alley.

"Hmph, a decoy," he sneered. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs novel⚑fire.net

The middle-aged pirate had fought and killed on the high seas for decades; a situation was nothing new.

He glanced up at the twin moons overhead, confirming he wasn't in an illusion or a dream. Then, he stuck his fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. As the sharp sound echoed in every direction, he spun around to face the main road behind him. A figure shimmered into view, forced out of invisibility.

The stranger in the black robe extended a pale hand and pointed. Just like before, the ground at Piss'er's feet erupted in a violent explosion.

They had the same ability.

He didn't flinch. The souls of the drowned materialized around him, clinging to his body like a ghastly shroud. These sacrificed spirits shielded their master from the blast.

He grinned, baring a set of tobacco-stained teeth:

His single black eye glinted fiercely, but he knew this fight had to end fast. The explosions would attract unwanted attention.

A clang of metal echoed from above, like a ship dropping anchor. With the rattle of links, black metal chains shot out from the shadows at the robed figure's feet, striking like snakes to wrap around her right arm.

The middle-aged pirate lunged, a morbid grin stretching across his face as he crossed the street in a single bound. He threw a powerful right hook, but the woman caught it with her left hand.

An even fouler grin spread across his face. The instant their fists met, his mouth gaped open. Wrapped around one of his yellowed teeth—in the gap where a front tooth was missing—was a single strand of black hair.

Unlike the chains, this single hair shot out like a striking viper, aiming for the woman whose hands were now both occupied. A miserable wail echoed through the air—the sound of the soul trapped within the strand.

The woman suddenly looked up, revealing the face hidden beneath her hood. Gold and silver dust traced a strange, sacred pattern across her delicate features.

"A spirit-warding sigil? She knew all along what I had hidden on my tooth..."

A thousand possibilities flashed through Hoover Piss'er's mind. He leaped back and began chanting a familiar incantation. The roar of the ocean surged from one end of the street, and a rushing torrent of water split them, one on each side of the watery divide.

He spun around and bolted for the alley, only to find a man leaning on a cane waiting for him at the entrance.

"Knowledge Bestowal!"

The pirate had no time to dodge. Shards of silvery light slammed into him, and his own momentum sent him sliding several feet before he collapsed, unconscious and motionless on the ground.

"Blasphemous Creation!"

Jenkins bent down, watching as vines emerged from the void and plunged into the man's temples. After a few seconds of sickening, gurgling sounds, they retracted, leaving behind an ethereal, almost transparent coin.

"First imbue him with blasphemous knowledge, then use Blasphemous Creation... and I still get less than a thousandth of a coin. It seems this workaround is a bust. What a shame..."

He stood up and watched Magic Miss walk over from the mouth of the alley, the seawater she had cleared now completely gone.

Summoning a torrent of seawater out of thin air to flood an entire street was an extravagant display, but such was the power of a high-level Enchanter. Thankfully, the conjured water vanished quickly once its master lost control, allowing Magic Miss to approach.

"He's out cold. I doubt he'll be waking up. If you've got something to do, we need to be quick. We made a lot of noise."

The woman stepped past Jenkins and knelt. A silver dagger had appeared in her right hand. The term 'silver' wasn't quite right; it wasn't made of solid metal. It looked more like liquid mercury, flowing and shifting within an invisible, dagger-shaped casing.

She paid no mind to Mr. Candle and his cat watching from behind as she pulled up the middle-aged pirate's shirt, exposing his chest.

Jenkins let out the sound from behind her. Emblazoned on the man's chest was a skull tattoo. This was no ordinary sailor's ink; the skull itself seemed alive. Within its sunken eye sockets, tiny blue flames flickered.

"What is that... if you don't mind my asking."

The question bordered on prying into her secrets, which was why Jenkins had added the qualifier.

Magic Miss didn't answer. Instead, she produced a small glass vial from her pocket and sprinkled its contents—granules that looked like salt—onto the tattoo. A sharp sizzling sound filled the air as the white particles made contact with the skull. The blue flames in its eyes flickered a few times and went out. The skull, which had seemed expressive moments before, became completely still, turning into what looked like an ordinary tattoo.

She touched the mercury-like dagger to the man's skin and, with an unpracticed hand, began to carve away the patch of flesh. Her technique was clumsy, nothing like that of a coroner at the police morgue; it was clear Magic Miss had never done anything before. By the time she had what she wanted, the tattoo's original owner was dead.

In Jenkins's eyes, the piece of skin bearing the skull tattoo emitted a faint black aura. The intensity of the light suggested it wasn't a permanently effective Extraordinary item, but it was undoubtedly related to a Cursed Item.

Magic Miss took a roll of parchment, tied with a silk ribbon, from a large pocket on the outside of her robe. She carefully unrolled it on the ground and placed the piece of skin upon it. As she murmured a low incantation, the fresh patch of skin slowly melted away, leaving only the tattoo branded onto the parchment.

Two small bloodstains dotted the edge of the parchment—the only remaining proof of the skull pattern's origin.