Chapter 462: The Brutal Pirates
“Twenty-seven… twenty-eight… twenty-nine…”
On the flagship’s deck, a bare-armed pirate leaned lazily against the railing. A dagger rested in his hand, its tip tapping and scraping against the wooden rail in a slow, irregular rhythm. Each shallow cut left a pale scar in the weathered wood, as he counted under his breath, one number at a time, as though following some private, ritualistic beat.
Was there something wrong with this man? Counting like a child at play?
Just as he reached twenty-nine, a cry suddenly drifted out from the flagship’s cabin below—high-pitched, foreign, and trembling, the voice of a Wa woman edged with tears.
The moment that sound reached the deck, the other pirates reacted as if a school bell had rung. In an instant, they straightened up, faces wiped clean of sloppiness, snapping into place at their posts with exaggerated diligence, as though they had always been standing guard.
“Pay attention,” the counting pirate murmured in a low voice, casting a sideways glance at his companions. “Boss stopped five counts early this time. Means he’s probably in a bad mood. Best keep your heads down.”
“Mmm.” The others nodded in unison, backs stiffening, expressions growing even more earnest.
This was an unspoken rule among them, a habit passed down without ever being written. Every time their pirate chief was “busy,” one man would be assigned to count. On a good day, the boss could last thirty counts. If the number went beyond thirty, it meant his vigor was riding high and his mood would be pleasant afterward. But if the count fell short—like today—then everyone knew to be careful. Very careful.
Soon, the cabin door creaked open.
A pirate with a thick, tangled beard and one missing eye staggered out. A smudged print of lip rouge stained his cheek, vivid against his weather-darkened skin. He had thrown a shirt loosely over his shoulders and was fumbling with the buttons as he walked, the sharp stench of cheap wine and cloying powder clinging to him like a fog.
The instant he appeared, the atmosphere on the flagship sank, heavy and oppressive, as though the air itself had tightened.
“Boss!” Voices rose one after another in greeting from across the deck.
The one-eyed pirate merely swept his remaining eye over them, offering no response. He swayed toward the edge of the deck, already loosening his belt as he walked, clearly intending to relieve himself over the side into the open sea.
Perhaps the alcohol had gone to his head. Perhaps he had drained himself dry below deck. After only a few unsteady steps, his foot caught on a coiled rope. He stumbled forward, body pitching ahead, on the verge of smashing face-first into the deck.
At the last instant, he slammed his right palm against the planks, using the force to vault himself cleanly into the air. He twisted mid-leap and landed squarely on his feet, steady and balanced, as if the stumble had never happened. The move was sharp, precise—proof that this was no ordinary brute, but a seasoned fighter, and a dangerous one at that.
“Who’s responsible for this rope?” he asked coldly, once he had steadied himself, his single eye raking over the men before him.
“B-Boss… it was…” A Ming pirate behind him raised a trembling hand, his voice shaking so badly he could barely force the words out.
Before he could finish, a flash of light tore through the dimness of the deck, swift as lightning splitting the night.
Blood erupted.
The rest of the sentence died in the man’s throat forever. With a single diagonal slash, angled cleanly at forty-five degrees, the one-eyed pirate split him in two. Head and body parted, his face still frozen in raw terror.
After the strike, the one-eyed pirate didn’t move aside. He closed his eye, letting the warm spray of blood wash over his face. A shiver of pleasure crossed his features. Slowly, he extended his tongue, licking the blood that had run to the corner of his mouth. He smacked his lips, savoring the taste, a look of satisfaction settling in his expression. Then he stepped casually on the fallen pirate’s severed head, whistling as he finished undoing his belt and relieved himself into the sea.
Watching this, the remaining pirates on deck let out a quiet breath of relief.
Good. The boss had vented his anger. That meant they were safe.
That was all that mattered to them. The unfortunate man who had been cut down never crossed their minds again. Out on the endless ocean, killers and the killed were everywhere. They were all desperadoes living with one foot in the grave. Whose hands among them were clean? Scenes like this had long since numbed them.
“Luō-san,” a voice called out, “the fleet ahead is the Ming navy. With just these ships, we wouldn’t even be enough to fill their teeth.”
From another cabin on the flagship emerged a man from the island nation, dressed in a black-patterned haori. He looked to be in his thirties, standing tall on wooden geta, a long tachi hanging at his waist. He walked toward the one-eyed pirate as he spoke.
This man clearly held status among the pirates. As he appeared, everyone—Ming pirates included—lowered their heads respectfully.
“Oh, Sanji, you’re awake.” The one-eyed pirate hitched up his trousers and swaggered over. “No need to worry. We’re not here to raid the navy.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sanji asked.
“I’ve got reliable intelligence.” Greed gleamed fiercely in the one-eyed pirate’s lone eye. “This time, the old emperor loosened the sea ban just a crack. The Ming navy is sailing from Tianjin Guard all the way to Ying Tian Prefecture. But it’s not just warships traveling with them. My sources say there’s a super fat sheep tagging along. They spent a full day and night just loading goods onto the ships.”
“Snatching food from a tiger’s mouth… striking stone with an egg,” Sanji said, shaking his head.
“Hahaha!” The one-eyed pirate roared with laughter. “I, Luo Third, have ruled the seas by daring to snatch from tiger mouths!”
“Your courage, Luō-san, I admire,” Sanji said carefully. “But war is no small matter. One must not act without caution.”
“We’ve confirmed it already.” The one-eyed pirate’s voice dropped, conspiratorial. “The fleet ahead is split in two. The warships are sharp-bottomed, fast, sailing ahead while drilling as they go. The escort fleet is mostly flat-bottomed cargo ships—slow, heavy. Normally, the distance between them is close enough for protection. But today…” He grinned darkly. “Today, heaven is on our side.”
The sky was thick with clouds, the daylight itself dim and murky. Even in full day, visibility barely stretched a few li ahead. Wind churned the sea into rolling waves, and the constant roar of water swallowed ordinary sounds whole.
“We strike the escort ships from behind,” he continued, his grin widening. “Fast and clean. The warships up front won’t hear a thing. And even if they do notice, we’ll already be gone. The seas are vast—how could they ever find us?”
“All we need is to wait until night,” he said, voice brimming with confidence. “When it’s dead quiet, when they’re fast asleep in the wind and rain—that’s when we get rich.”
He stared out at the darkening ocean ahead, as if already seeing mountains of gold and silver waiting to welcome their rightful master.
“As for the women we take,” he added casually, holding up three fingers, “you get first pick. Three of them.”
As Sanji listened, his eyes gradually brightened. When the talk turned to women, they nearly gleamed with anticipation.
“Listen up, all of you!” the one-eyed pirate suddenly bellowed, spinning toward the deck. “When night falls, you row like your lives depend on it. Anyone who doesn’t give it everything they’ve got—I’ll cut down myself. You hear me?!”
“We hear you!” the pirates roared back.
“There’s more gold and silver ahead than you can carry,” he shouted, pointing toward the endless sea. “There are tender young ladies and maidservants waiting on those ships. All you have to do is row. Row harder. Then kill everyone aboard, take everything they have, stuff your pockets with treasure, and lose yourselves in it!”
His words whipped through the deck like fire, stoking the pirates’ blood.
“OHH—kill them all! Take it all! Let it out!”
The pirates howled like beasts driven mad, eyes burning red, as if each of them had swallowed a fistful of potent spring drugs, their hunger and violence pushed to the brink.