A Wrong Has Its Author, A Debt Has Its Giver

One month later, East Blue, Shells Town.

Inside Branch 153, adjacent to the town, the Captain's office was heavy with atmosphere. Looking at Morgan, who sat expressionless in his seat, Lieutenant Colonel Jordi reported in a low voice.

"Captain, Branch 173 just sent a message."

"Mm, did they find him?"

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

"Then he must be dead!"

Lieutenant Colonel Klimans interjected loudly, his voice echoing in the small office, making eardrums ache.

"It's only been three hours, a ship couldn't have gotten far! Now, with the combined forces of over twenty East Blue branches searching for a month without finding him, it can only mean he was killed by a third party and his body dumped at sea."

Klimans's lack of cunning was both his weakness and his strength. He said whatever came to mind.

Because of this, Morgan never saw him as a threat. He even seriously considered this possibility upon hearing it.

"You can't be so absolute."

After a long pause, he raised his eyelids, his voice, transmitted through his iron chin, inexplicably filled with a chilling coldness.

"Don't forget how the higher-ups warned us after such a major screw-up."

"For Lowett, we need him alive or his body. There are no other possibilities!"

"Lieutenant Colonel Jordi..."

Jordi stiffened at the words and lowered his head, daring not to meet Morgan's gaze.

"Yes!"

"This matter is now entirely your responsibility. Understand? Even if his body is at the bottom of the sea, you must retrieve it!"

Just as he suspected.

Jordi's face contorted in bitterness, but he dared not complain.

"Understood!"

"Klimans!"

"What is it?"

Morgan's eyelids twitched. "Thank Colonel Rat for me. Bring a gift later and pay him a visit. We'll handle the rest."

"Right, Colonel Rat's men really put in a lot of effort, even though it wasn't their search area."

Lieutenant Colonel Klimans nodded, speaking words a normal person wouldn't dare to utter.

That wasn't effort; it was fishing for credit!

If they found him, they'd get a cut!

Morgan didn't call himself to remind them: "Hey, buddy, your subordinates have crossed the line!"

But Klimans clearly didn't grasp this. He said regretfully, "What a shame, the guys from Branch 16 were actually quite diligent... But this is good too, they probably won't have as much free time to go looking for people lately."

"Hm?"

Morgan frowned. "Why?"

What kind of change had occurred at Branch 16?

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

Klimans looked up at him. "I ran into their ship while on patrol a few days ago, and heard that another Ghost Ship Collision Incident happened. They were in a hurry to get back."

"Ghost Ship Collision Incident?"

Morgan pondered for a moment, then realized. "You mean those incidents where unmanned pirate ships collided with ports and merchant ships?"

"That's right."

About half a month ago, a merchant ship returning to the Kingdom of Goa along its route encountered a pirate ship. They immediately notified the nearby Branch 16, awaiting rescue.

However, the expected attack never came. On the contrary, there wasn't a single pirate on board.

The sea was pitch black in the dead of night, with no lights or figures visible.

In their fear, the pirate ship approached steadily and just...

Crashed straight into them!

This turned the Branch 16 rescue team, who thought they'd be fighting pirates, into a genuine rescue operation, with the lifeboat filled with panicked merchant crew members.

This was originally a minor incident.

While pirates seemed bold, their enemies were numerous.

The Navy, bounty hunters, other pirate crews, even vengeful fanatics who hated pirates, and so on.

With such a large number of ships at sea, many pirates were silenced.

It was an extremely common occurrence.

Otherwise, where would all those ghost ship rumors come from?

But a few days later, another pirate ship crashed into the port of a town in that sea area, and things started to get weird.

Again, there were no bodies, and no one could be found.

There wasn't a single trace of a fight on the ship, yet the warm kettle and half-eaten food proved that something had been living on board not long ago.

With no answers, unease and anxiety spread among the citizens.

Branch 153 quickly stepped forward, claiming it was the work of a bounty hunter who wished to remain anonymous. They had warned this bounty hunter, and the individual had promised not to do it again.

Similar incidents weren't unheard of, and not exactly rare. Branch 153 didn't take it too seriously, believing there wouldn't be a third time.

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

Yes, by this point, the citizens had come to believe these were actual ghost ships.

Otherwise, how could you explain the warm kettles and half-eaten food in broad daylight, right under the Navy's noses?

That was your Navy's port!

Would they not know if someone had managed to escape?

The trouble was someone else's, and Morgan wasn't moved. After confirming there were no bloodstains left on the ship like on that deserted island that day, he stopped asking about it.

"This is the fourth one, isn't it? You must have quite the grudge against pirates!"

Morgan also leaned towards it being the work of some bounty hunter, but since they never came to claim any rewards, it couldn't 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 consecutively, averaging one every three and a half days, without any rest?

And that didn't even include the time spent searching.

In just one month, there were only about a dozen pirate crews who dared to pass by the Navy branch, fearing death.

"Exactly!"

Klimans waved his hand. "Anyway, you can imagine the situation within Branch 153 right now. After they pinned the blame on a bounty hunter at the start, it's impossible to falsely claim credit."

"The number of pirates in that sea area has indeed decreased, but the number of displaced citizens has increased, all fearing a curse from the ghost ships."

This Klimans really dared to say anything.

Morgan's eyelids twitched, and he coughed lightly. "Alright, let's not worry about that for now. Let's deal with our own troubles first."

"Klimans, you depart immediately and see if you can help out."

Since a rat dared to reach its paws over, why couldn't he reach his own paws over?

Klimans, unaware he was being used, stood at attention and saluted. "Yes!"

Jingle jingle.

Under the cover of night, a small boat docked at the port of Shells Town.

As the gentle waves rippled, a man wearing a straw hat jumped off the boat. He took out a rope and tied his single-person boat to a stone pier.

The way he tied the boat was strange; he squatted down, as if his limbs weren't very convenient.

However, not many people noticed this scene, and those who did wouldn't care. The night grew darker, and everyone was eager to go home and sleep.

Jingle jingle!

A bell was tied to the bow of the small boat. As the seawater gently swayed, a dark figure emerged from the water, causing the bell to ring continuously.

Hearing the pleasant sound of the bell, a boatman nearby, busy tidying his fishing net, felt his eyelids grow heavy. Moments later, his head drooped, and he began to snore.

"The effect is good."

Lowett nodded with satisfaction and took the bell from the Black Knight, holding it in his hand.

"Then let's continue!"

The two figures walked towards Shells Town, one after the other. Every three steps, Lowett would shake the bell and chant obscure incantations.

Invisible and intangible mana fluctuations were transmitted along with the sound waves. Shells Town wasn't large, and the bell was one he had carefully selected. Wherever he walked, large numbers of residents fell into a deep sleep.

"Every wrong has its source, and every debt has its owner. You should thank Doctor Sheldon."

"It was his courage in calmly facing death that bought you this chance at life."

Death was not terrifying.

But few people could achieve it.

Each one was precious and worthy of a Necromancer's respect.

Jingle jingle.

The sound of the bell echoed through the town.

At the same time, at the dock behind them, undead creatures emerged from the sea, marching in neat, orderly steps. They held weapons dripping with seawater and stepped onto this land belonging to the living.

Muffled roars echoed one after another, but the sleeping townspeople were unaware that an undead army was passing by their doors.

Judging by their numbers, there were more than three hundred!

This was a clear indication of where Lowett had been for the past month.

As a Navy branch, Branch 153 certainly had someone on duty at night.

Two soldiers, leaning against the wall and dozing, suddenly heard a piercing bell sound reverberate in their minds, ceaseless.

This bell, which had lulled the townspeople to sleep, was now causing them splitting headaches.

They jolted awake in shock.

The two soldiers stared at the figure wearing a straw hat under the dim streetlights on the street ahead, and the dense, shadowy figures behind him that stretched as far as the eye could see, yet moved in utter silence. Their hair stood on end.

"Who's there?!"

"I've come to retrieve something I left here."

Hearing this, Lowett removed his straw hat. His long hair obscured his face, making his features indistinguishable.

"What thing?"

A soldier replied, then thought better of it, "Come back tomorrow to get it. It's too late to be handling official business."

"No, it's not official business. It's personal."

Lowett took a step forward. Though unarmed, he forced the two soldiers, who were holding guns, to press themselves against the wall.

"When I left last time, I forgot to take you all's... lives!"

Upon hearing this, one soldier's pupils contracted sharply. His face flushed red as he managed to utter a single syllable.

"Ene-!!"

Squelch!

The sound was abruptly cut off. A tall, dark figure appeared in the center of the branch's main entrance. In each hand, he held a head, the eyes within slowly dimming, which he regarded with a downward gaze.

Looking to his sides, blood sprayed from the necks of the headless corpses, staining the wall red.

It stained the black characters of "Justice" red!

"That's much better."

He lifted his straw hat and then swept it forward.

"ROAR!!!"

An enraged roar echoed through the night sky. Zombie Puppets, one after another, broke free from their restraints and charged into Branch 153, carrying a fierce hatred for the living.

I'm finally going to be recommended tomorrow. It's a standard web trial recommendation, and I hope the results aren't too bad. With only a few hundred collections so far, my heart feels cold.