Chapter 162
Chapter 162
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 162
Chapter Title: Queen's Pirate Honey
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Pirate Queen Ellis's crew, the Queen's Pirates. Member Honey sat at the tavern, sweeping her pitiful gaze coldly over someone in the corner who was sipping beer.
Height around 175 to 178, maybe. Unremarkable brown hair and brown eyes. And clothes that were baggy—way too baggy—like he'd stolen them off someone else.
He had a gentle look about him, but nothing stunning enough to turn heads. His build? Eh.
Barely average, if that. In a play, he'd fit perfectly as Village Youth No. 1, passing behind the protagonist.
'What does the captain see in a total nobody like that, insisting we bring him along?'
On top of that, how did Captain Ellis even know he'd be somewhere on this island?
'...A lover?'
As if. The gap in their leagues was too vast.
Honey crossed her legs crookedly and bobbed her foot. It was an order from her sky-sent captain, so she'd follow it.
But still.
'He looks worthless.'
A lone outsider, yet he ordered less food than anyone else and drank from a chipped, flawed mug filled more than halfway with foam—without a single complaint, just chuckling along as he sipped.
Not handsome, no swagger, and above all.
'He doesn't even look strong.'
Sure, you never know. Maybe he's an herbalist or a mage who doesn't fight.
'The captain said he'd come right away if we mentioned Kish was looking for him.'
But it wouldn't hurt to probe a little first, right?
Honey tossed aside the dried squid she'd been chewing haphazardly and stood up.
"Hey. You came to this island alone?"
She picked up her half-finished beer and sauntered over to the man the captain had called Zero, sitting down slowly with a bright smile.
"Yes? Oh... yeah. Haha."
As a child, her hair had been honey-gold, earning her the name Honey. Now it was straw-blonde, freckles dotted her nose, and her eyes were orange tinged with brown. Her skin was bronzed by sea salt and sun.
A vibrant beauty—that's me.
Honey flashed a mischievous grin, blinked a few times, and looked at Zero.
"What's your business here? Looking to be someone's assistant?"
The seas were brutal, and seafaring grueling. In these island chains full of burly, rough-mouthed, rough-acting folk—good-naturedly manly or crudely brutish, depending on your view—Zero's soft, delicate features made him ripe for underestimation.
Even here in a tavern scraping by on food sales, he wasn't getting proper treatment.
It was obvious he'd been pushed around since arriving—here a shove, there a bump.
Honey, offering what she considered kindness, picked up one of the fries in front of Zero.
"Assistant... yeah, something like that. I'm wandering around looking for some info."
Timid eyes cast slightly downward, hands that looked like they'd only done farm work.
Up close, he seemed even more unremarkable.
These fries—leftovers from yesterday, refried?—were supposed to be fluffy but were chewy inside, soggy with oil. Honey bit one and spat it straight onto the floor before speaking.
"What kind of info?"
"Uh... info on capable sailors."
"Why? Planning to head to a forbidden zone or something?"
At Honey's laughing question, Zero's slightly downcast eyes shifted a bit.
"Forbidden zone?"
"Ah, you look like a total mainlander, so no wonder you don't know. The South Sea Archipelago is huge, so naturally it's full of dangerous spots everywhere."
"How... dangerous are they?"
It was common knowledge even to a five-year-old local, but Honey puffed up with pride and spoke as if doing him a favor.
"There are plenty, but I'll just tell you about the ones closest to here."
The territory of the Kraken, one of the trickiest ocean monsters out there—you could count them on one hand.
The windless zone, where you can't escape easily without an expensive mana engine.
And the Storm Isle, right up against the Whirlpool Strait, where storms have raged nonstop for decades.
"The last one's got rumors that the storms vanished completely not long ago. So everyone's curious what happened on that island."
Too close to the Whirlpool Strait for casual thrill-seekers to bother, and those with ships and crews capable of reaching it see no guaranteed payoff—so no one's going.
"What do you think might be there?"
At Zero's question, Honey pondered for a moment and tilted her head.
"Hmm. Huh? No way—you're planning to go there? The Whirlpool Strait is insanely dangerous... That's why you're looking for top sailors?"
Total suicide mission, she cackled.
"Any sailor skilled enough to weave through that whirlpool cluster would've been snapped up already."
None available? Then they've got some fatal flaw.
"And a mediocre ship would get shredded just brushing by. You need something huge, sturdy, and fast. Got a vessel like that?"
Honey smirked. If you're betting your life, sure, ram it in a junker and leave it to fate.
'It'd have to be on the level of our Queen's Pirates ship. Think those grow on trees?'
From just a few exchanges, she could tell. As someone who often worked as an informant, Honey's instincts screamed it.
Zero was genuinely, boringly weak.
'No point digging deeper. Just say Kish's name here and drag him off...'
"By the way."
Just as Honey was about to commit, Zero smiled and spoke.
"I figure that's enough— you're ready to take me now... right?"
The maintenance time was running out anyway.
"...Huh?"
Honey, resting her chin in her hand, lifted her head slightly. Zero slowly raised his eyes—which had been softly downcast—and met hers.
'What...?'
"Please take me to Kish."
His hair and eyes had been dull brown.
But very slowly, from the center of those eyes—like a new sprout pushing through a crack in ancient wood, dew beading on its leaves.
A gem-like green light began to spread.
"I knew you were the one Kish sent."
The South Sea Archipelago had countless islands, and with islands came countless pirates.
Which meant locals and their families might include pirates too, leading to a kind of coexistence.
The calluses from gripping a sword were a dead giveaway, and even as a young, pretty woman, everyone subtly catered to her—better food, better beer than for others.
And if she'd approached targeting him specifically.
Since he'd sensed Kish's location somewhere in these seas through their link, Kish had likely done the same to him.
'Plus, judging by the linked sensations, his mind's been corrupted.'
So he'd chatted with Honey to gauge the extent.
'Not fully corrupted, at least.'
Watching her babble while looking down on him, it was clear Kish wasn't some monster rampaging on fear and slaughter.
Zero pulled a perception-lowering badge from his pocket and pinned it to his clothes, then fixed his now fully revealed jewel-like eyes on Honey.
He swept back his hair, which was gradually turning ash-gray from the roots, and spoke in a low voice.
"Lead the way."
"Uh, ah... yes."
No murderous intent, but he deliberately let his presence press down on her alone.
What she felt wasn't the terror of being devoured by something vast and distant—instead, it was awe and helplessness, like facing not a living thing, but a natural disaster.
A massive wave poised to swallow a ship whole. A waterspout coiling up an entire island. A volcano spewing red-hot fury from the distant sea's heart. The sensation of beholding something too sublime to approach.
Enveloped in it, Honey trembled and slowly bowed her head.
* * *
"Hmm."
"Ugh!"
"Where'd the gamer go?"
I'd been checking out stuff from the info guild and requests from the guildhall, and when I came back, the mood was pretty serious.
Looks like they'd been playing that candy game again.
"What. Luna cleaned up, huh?"
I sat next to Luna, eyeing her jar—packed full, with a couple extras rolling around.
"Yes. I've bankrupted Raychel three times in a row now, Young Master."
Was she bragging that hard?
Raychel had taken the biggest hit, and Kane a bit too.
These games were all about the dice anyway.
Raychel shook as she rolled the two dice.
4, 4.
Doubles.
"Aaah!"
Her piece moved 8 spaces to land on Luna's property, then rolled again—4, 5—for 9 spaces to Kane's.
Clink—
In the end, Raychel's jar held just three candies.
"When am I gonna build it back up!"
They used candies as currency among themselves. I tossed in a few now and then like pocket money, or they refilled via their own rules—so Raychel couldn't just buy more—wailing in despair.
Me?
My jar stood tall and proud.
I was basically the candy bank.
"Dishes once is three candies. Errands depend on distance—you know. Plenty of ways to earn more."
I teased with a cackle, and Raychel shuddered. I ostentatiously pulled a sack full of candies from my subspace and popped one in my mouth.
"You fraud!"
"Who, me? Proxy head of the Kruger family—the continent's richest."
And with the most candies to boot.
As I tormented Raychel mercilessly, Kane scooped up his half-full jar and spoke.
"Moving out tonight?"
"Have to, yeah?"
The request forms and info from Kane and Raychel confirmed it: not a warlock, but human sacrifices by the Evil God Cult.
And with gold, we'd pinpointed the spot—so if we checked before traces vanished completely, we might snag a lead.
But we'd killed time playing games till now because a regular liner couldn't shake cult pursuit. We needed a temp ship and crew.
"Leaving at dawn."
Not heading to mermaid territory, so we'd grabbed a decent sturdy-fast ship and the best money could buy for crew.
'Worst case, use Kane-mong.'
Raychel and Luna lacked fine aura control, but Kane could carry me across the sea by air.
Not forever, but a nearby island? Sure.
Factoring that in as backup, ship and crew options overflowed.
"Hmm, say we go to the spot and find traces of the cult or whatever. How do we track them?"
Raychel piped up, sulky like a kid who'd lost all her candy.
Not a kid, but she had lost all her candy—so this magnanimous young master answered kindly.
"Cultists have a unique mana signature."
Slightly different per person, but starkly distinct from normals or monsters.
In the original story, Kane sniffed it out best—later mocked as the cult's "sniffer dog."
"Catch 'em all alive and hand to the guards? Claim they're the sacrificers? Then we'd need proof too."
As Raychel rolled up her sleeves, I let out a soft "Hm" and spoke slowly.
"The Evil God Cult? We kill them."
"You're killing them."
"If that's what Young Master wants."
"Kill?"
Kane, Luna, and Raychel each chimed in.
Fair enough—I'd never outright ordered a kill on non-monsters before.
'But these guys? Fine.'
"Yeah. Kill them."
The living god would just revive them anyway.