Every Wrong Has Its Debtor

A month later, Shells Town, East Blue.

The atmosphere in the colonel's office at Branch 153, adjacent to the town, was heavy. Looking at the expressionless Monka in his seat, Lieutenant Colonel Jordi reported quietly.

"Colonel, Branch 173 has just sent word."

"Mm, did they find him?"

Jordi hesitated, then shook his head. "No."

"Then he's definitely dead!"

Lieutenant Colonel Klimans cut in loudly, his voice echoing through the small office and making everyone's eardrums ache.

"It's only been three hours from start to finish. Even with a ship, he couldn't have gotten far! More than twenty East Blue branches have been searching for a month without finding anything. That can only mean he was killed by a third party and his body sank into the sea."

Lieutenant Colonel Klimans was bad at scheming, but that was also what made him good. He said whatever came to mind.

That was why Monka had never considered him a threat. Hearing this, he actually gave the possibility some serious thought.

"Don't be so absolute."

After a long while, he raised his eyelids. His voice came through his iron jaw, inexplicably carrying a chill.

"Don't forget how Headquarters warned us after so many major blunders."

"As for Lowett, we need to see him alive or see his corpse dead. There is no third possibility!"

"Lieutenant Colonel Jordi..."

Jordi stiffened at once and lowered his head, not daring to look at Monka.

"Yes!"

"I'm putting you fully in charge of this matter. Understand? Even if his body has sunk into the sea, you will fish it back out!"

Just as expected.

Jordi's expression turned bitter, but he did not dare complain.

"Understood!"

"Klimans!"

"What is it?"

Monka's eyelid twitched. "Help me thank Colonel Rat. Bring a gift later and pay him a visit. We'll handle what comes next ourselves."

"That's true. Even though it wasn't their assigned search area, Colonel Rat did put in quite a bit of effort."

Lieutenant Colonel Klimans nodded and said something no normal person would say aloud.

That wasn't effort. That was poaching credit!

If they found him, Rat would get a share of the credit!

The reason Monka did not call personally was to send a reminder: "Hey, brother, your men have overstepped their bounds!"

But Klimans clearly did not understand that. Regretfully, he said, "What a pity. The guys from Branch 16 were actually working pretty hard... but this is fine too. They probably won't have much spare time to search for people lately."

"Hmm?"

Monka frowned. "Why?"

Had something happened to Branch 16?

"Oh, it's like this, Colonel."

Klimans looked up at him. "A few days ago, while I was patrolling outside, I ran into one of their ships. I heard another Ghost Ship Collision Incident had occurred, and they were hurrying back."

"Ghost Ship Collision Incident?"

Monka thought for a moment, then realized. "Those incidents where unmanned pirate ships crashed into ports and merchant vessels?"

"That's right."

More than half a month ago, a merchant convoy returning to the Kingdom of Goa along its route encountered a pirate ship. They immediately notified the nearby Branch 16 and waited for rescue.

Yet the expected attack never came. On the contrary, there was not a single pirate aboard.

The sea was pitch-black in the dead of night. There were no lights and no figures in sight.

Amid their fear, the pirate ship drew closer and closer, then simply...

Crashed straight into them!

The Branch 16 rescue force, which had expected to fight pirates, became a rescue force in the literal sense. Their lifeboats were packed with merchant crew members who had fallen into the sea.

It should have been a minor matter.

Being a pirate might seem thrilling, but pirates had many enemies.

The Marines, Bounty Hunters, other pirate crews, and revenge-crazed lunatics who hated pirates, among others.

With so many pirates going to sea, plenty of them were wiped out.

It was hardly uncommon.

Otherwise, where did all those rumors about ghost ships come from?

But a few days later, another pirate ship crashed into the port of a town in those waters, and only then did things become strange.

Again, there were no corpses. Again, there was no sign of anyone.

There was not a trace of battle aboard, yet the warm kettle and half-eaten food all proved that something had been living on the ship not long ago.

Unable to find an answer, unease and agitation spread among the populace.

Branch 16 hurriedly stepped forward and claimed it was the work of an unnamed bounty hunter. They also said they had warned that bounty hunter, who had promised not to do it again.

Such incidents were not unheard of, and the odds were not even low. Branch 16 had not taken it too seriously, believing there would not be a third time.

Then, that very day, the third ghost ship appeared.

Yes, by then, the people had already come to believe that these were genuine ghost ships.

Otherwise, how could anyone explain the warm kettle and half-eaten food aboard a ship in broad daylight, right under the Marines' noses?

That was a Marine port!

Wouldn't you know if someone had taken the chance to escape?

Other people's troubles did not move Monka. After confirming that no bloodstains like those on the deserted island had been left aboard, he stopped asking about it.

"This is the fourth incident, right? Whoever did it must really hate pirates!"

Monka also leaned toward the theory that a bounty hunter was responsible, but the culprit never came to claim any bounties, so it could not be confirmed.

"More than that. It's the ninth!"

Lieutenant Colonel Klimans tossed his head.

"So many?!"

Everyone exclaimed in surprise.

Anyone would get tired. Wiping out nine pirate crews in a row, averaging one every three and a half days—did they never rest?

That did not even include the time spent searching for them.

In just one month, there were only a dozen or so pirate crews that would dare pass through Marine branch waters.

"Exactly!"

Klimans waved his hand. "Anyway, you can imagine what Branch 16 is like now. After pinning the blame on a bounty hunter at first, they can't even pretend the credit is theirs anymore."

"Pirates in those waters have indeed become fewer, but more common folk have also fled their homes, afraid of being cursed by ghost ships."

This Klimans really dared to say anything.

Monka's eyelid twitched. He coughed lightly. "Enough. Leave that alone for now. Deal with our own troubles first."

"Klimans, set out at once and see whether you can lend them a hand."

Since Rat dared reach his hand over here, why could Monka not reach his hand over there?

Completely unaware that he had been used, Klimans stood at attention and saluted. "Yes!"

Ding-a-ling.

Under the night sky, a small boat docked at Shells Town harbor.

Amid the rippling waves, a man wearing a conical straw hat jumped from the boat. He took out a rope and tied the single-person vessel to a stone mooring post on the dock.

The way he tied the boat was strange. He did it while squatting, as though his limbs were inconvenient to use.

But few people noticed the scene, and even those who did would not care. The night was growing late, and everyone was hurrying home to sleep.

Ding-a-ling!

A bell was tied to the bow of the small boat. As the seawater rippled gently, a pitch-black figure emerged from the water, making the bell ring sharply and repeatedly.

Hearing the pleasant chime, a boatman nearby who was busy packing up fishing nets felt his eyelids grow heavy. Soon, his head drooped, and he began to snore.

"The effect is quite good."

Lowett nodded in satisfaction, taking the bell offered by the Black Knight and holding it in his hand.

"Then let's continue!"

The two figures headed toward Shells Town, one in front of the other. Every three steps, Lowett shook the bell once and chanted an obscure, incomprehensible spell.

Invisible, intangible waves of mana traveled with the sound. Shells Town was not large, and Lowett had carefully selected the bell. Along every street he passed, large numbers of residents fell asleep.

"Every wrong has its debtor. You should thank Doctor Sheldon."

"His courage in calmly facing death bought you a sliver of life today."

Death itself was not frightening.

But few could face it.

Every one of them was precious beyond measure and worthy of a Necromancer's respect.

Ding-a-ling.

The bell continued to ring, echoing through the town.

At the same time, at the harbor behind them, undead emerged from the seawater one after another in neat marching steps. Holding all manner of weapons dripping with seawater, they stepped onto land belonging to the living.

Suppressed growls rose and fell, but the sleeping townspeople had no idea that an Undead Army was passing right outside their doors.

There were far more than three hundred of them!

Where Lowett had gone over the past month was clear enough from this.

As a Marine branch, Branch 153 naturally had people assigned to night watch.

Two soldiers were dozing against a wall when a piercing ring suddenly echoed through their minds, ceaselessly battering at them.

The bell that put the town's residents to sleep instead gave them splitting headaches.

They woke with a start.

Seeing the straw-hatted figure beneath the dim streetlamp ahead, and the dense mass of silent figures behind him stretching beyond sight, the two soldiers' hairs stood on end.

"Who goes there?!"

"I came to retrieve something I left here."

At that, Lowett removed his straw hat. His long hair covered his cheeks, making his features impossible to see clearly.

"What thing?"

One soldier replied, then realized something was off. "Come back tomorrow to get it. We don't handle official business this late."

"No, it isn't official business. It's personal."

Lowett stepped forward. Though unarmed, he made the two soldiers clutching rifles press themselves tightly against the wall.

"When I left last time, I forgot to take away your... lives!"

Upon hearing that, one soldier's pupils suddenly contracted. His face reddened as he forced out a syllable.

"Enem—!!"

Splat!

The sound stopped abruptly. A tall, pitch-black figure appeared in the middle of the branch's main entrance. In its left and right hands, it held two heads whose eyes were slowly dimming, lowering its own head to inspect them.

Looking to either side, headless bodies sprayed blood from their necks, staining the walls red.

Staining the two black characters for "Justice" red!

"That looks much better."

The straw hat lifted, then swept forward.

ROAR!!!

Furious roars rang through the night sky as Zombie Puppets broke free of their restraints and charged into Branch 153, driven by their intense hatred for the living.

Tomorrow, the story would finally get a recommendation slot. It was the usual website trial recommendation process. Hopefully the results would not be too terrible. Big Tree only had a few hundred bookmarks so far, and my heart was ice-cold.