Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: A Cool Rum After This Job's Done
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“Groan...”
Lying in his cabin, Mazelan let out a pained groan.
Fortunately, nothing was broken,
but he'd taken hits all over his body, leaving not a single spot that didn't ache.
It was yet another testament to just how precise the Pirate King's punches were.
'Yeah, I definitely need to stay on my guard from now on... Never mess with that man, the Pirate King...'
Even so,
despite these thoughts, Mazelan considered this whole ordeal a truly invaluable experience.
He hadn't seen the full extent of it, but he'd witnessed a glimpse of the Pirate King's power firsthand—the stuff of legends.
That immense flow of mana was still vividly etched in his mind.
Even simple compression had churned the very air—that was a realm far beyond anything Mazelan could dream of touching right now.
As a bounty hunter and a warrior with a burning thirst for strength, witnessing the pinnacle like this was an experience worth more than gold.
'That's the king of the seas... the power of one at the absolute peak...'
His heart began to race.
There were beings in this world with such overwhelming strength.
If he trained endlessly, maybe one day...
Even if he couldn't reach those heights, perhaps he could at least stand at their feet. Such hopes began to bloom within him.
'This feeling... it's been so long. Guess I've gotten a bit complacent lately... Once this wraps up, I need to dive back into training.'
The long-dormant thirst for power ignited once more.
He felt a thrilling surge of motivation.
And with it, a touch of gratitude toward the Pirate King for sparking these emotions.
A thick smile spread across Mazelan's lips.
At that moment...
-Knock knock
“Come in.”
Mazelan gave permission at the sound of the knock.
A female bounty hunter cautiously entered the cabin.
She was Mazelan's childhood friend and Demanes' second-in-command.
Elkana.
With a bandage wrapped around one forearm, she asked in a voice laced with concern.
“You okay, boss?”
“Ugh... Well... still hurts, but I'll manage...”
Mazelan forced himself to sit up, enduring the pain.
Watching him, Elkana spoke in a apologetic tone.
“Don't push yourself. Your injuries are still pretty bad.”
“It's fine, this much is nothing now... Ngh...”
Even as he spoke, Mazelan's face twisted slightly in pain.
Back when the Pirate King was pummeling him relentlessly, Mazelan had moved tirelessly to shield his subordinates as best he could.
That was the utmost resistance he could offer as their leader in that moment.
Thanks to him, Elkana and the others had mostly recovered, but Mazelan still struggled to get out of bed.
“Sorry. I should've looked into it more thoroughly... Who'd have thought it'd involve the Pirate King...”
“Forget it. We poked the Pirate King's reverse scale and got off this easy? We're insanely lucky.”
“Mazelan...”
Even as his wounds throbbed, he flashed a grin.
Seeing him think of her even now eased Elkana's gloom a little.
That aside, though,
she grew more serious as their conversation continued.
“Anyway... Mazelan? I've been thinking about this nonstop, and this job was definitely...”
“Mm... Nine times out of ten, that duke or whatever noble set it up like this on purpose.”
Looking back, the suspicious signs were everywhere: no intel whatsoever, yet an absurd pile of gold just to fetch one girl.
He'd calculated they'd back out if they knew it involved the Pirate King.
They'd been careless getting hooked, but being used like this left a foul taste.
“We didn't do anything wrong to those nobles...”
“You seen them care? They wanted that kid bad enough to pull this stunt. If we failed midway, we'd take the full blame anyway.”
The job came through a proxy, and all they knew about his "master" was that he was a duke—nothing more.
A deliberate tail-cutting move.
Even knowing this, Mazelan and his crew had no recourse.
Skilled bounty hunters or not, they were up against high nobility.
Besides, they'd accepted the job willingly—whining about it now would be laughable.
All they could do was report the failure quietly and return the fee.
Swallowing his frustration, Mazelan lay back down.
“What can ya do? Not our first rodeo. At least we didn't get scammed after succeeding...”
“Sigh... Yeah, you're right. Let's forget it. Tch, thought this'd fix my luck for once...”
With that, Elkana slipped onto the bed beside him.
She tentatively reached out, her hand roaming his body.
“...What're you doing? I'm still injured, y'know?”
“So? Last time you were hurt way worse and still banged two whores.”
“Those girls were so hot they knocked the sense out of me. Your scrawny body's something I gotta face stone-cold sober.”
“Tch! Sorry my cliffs disappoint. Was gonna comfort you and all...”
She puffed her cheeks a bit.
Thinking it kinda cute,
but also that he couldn't let her strain herself while injured,
Mazelan spoke as gruffly as possible.
“Go rest. We've got days ahead to Marnseu Port.”
“Yessir, boss. As you command.”
She left with a pouty air.
Even so, a faint smile played on her lips—this wasn't so bad.
Alone again,
Mazelan felt sleep overtaking him, tinged with regret for a different reason.
'Kinda disappointing, though... If it'd gone smooth, I could've made it happen... That trading company Elkana dreamed of...'
Unlike him, who thrived on rough seas, Elkana and some crew quietly yearned for peace.
As their leader, missing the chance to grant that wish stung.
Mazelan closed his eyes, drifting into sleep.
Someday, another chance would come...
On the way back from shopping,
with Ambasha asleep on my back,
I carried bags of spices, veggies, and meat in my other hand as I headed to the port.
“S-Sorry... Making you carry my stuff too...”
“Don't worry about it. You're injured—head straight to Lemain for treatment once we're back.”
Comforting the apologetic Frankling, I mulled over today's events.
“Those guys... Said they were hired by some duke noble?”
“Yes, couldn't get an exact name, but that's what I heard. Promised a fortune to bring Ambasha.”
“Hm...”
Not enough info to judge yet.
A duke, sure—but from where? Who?
And targeting Ambasha specifically? Plenty to unpack there.
Shelling out big for one slave girl?
Even knowing I'd be involved? The math didn't add up.
Could be some obsessive pervert, but...
This level of scheming suggested they knew something about her.
Someone who'd seen through her immense potential, or...
'Maybe... a fellow transmigrator...'
I couldn't assume I was the only one isekai'd here.
No encounters in eight years, but in this vast world, others might exist.
A transmigrator who'd played the original? Ambasha would be a must-have for smooth progression...
Or even without that, her future as a top-tier powerhouse justified this much effort.
Especially with the war era looming on the continent.
Amid these speculations,
I decided to approach this with extreme caution.
If the culprit was another transmigrator...
And if it led to hostility down the line...
I'd need to steel myself more than ever.
Mazelan and his crew arrived at Marnseu Port.
Injuries had delayed normal sailing, so they arrived just barely on time.
No rest—Demanes' hunters headed straight to the rendezvous with the client.
The spot: a deserted ruin on the port's outskirts.
The mood among them was heavy the whole way.
Heading to report failure wasn't exactly upbeat.
Especially forfeiting that massive payout without even touching it.
Then,
Mazelan raised his voice to rally them.
“Chin up, everyone. Money like that's replaceable. Like I said, we're damn lucky to be breathing today. We crossed the Pirate King and lived!”
“Well... true...”
“But boss, it still sucks. Letting that fortune slip away...”
“Another chance'll come. Job's done either way—so tonight, rum's on me. I'll even call in plenty of girls. Eat, drink, and be merry.”
“Huh? F-For real?”
“Ahem... If you're going that far... sure...”
The promise of booze lightened their moods instantly.
Simpletons, every one, Mazelan thought—as always.
But that's why he liked them.
Grinning, he led them onward.
“Still... annoying, huh? That noble could've sent a proxy or come himself. Why drag us to a dump like this?”
“Noble whims? Never ends. Probably some 'protecting my chastity' show or whatever.”
“Mm... Yeah, sounds right...”
Once, a noble refused to slum it, making them trek 100km to his castle.
Probably similar here.
Nobles—all the same, detestable.
Mazelan dragged his still-aching body up the low hill path, sun not yet fully set.
'Come to think, that Pirate King hated nobles too? Wonder why... Bad blood maybe?'
A fleeting thought crossed his mind.
For a moment, an odd feeling stirred.
Then.
“Tch, finally here.”
A group came into view.
Spotting the scowling, corpulent noble who seemed the client, Mazelan and his crew froze in place.