Undercurrents Surge, Tacit Killing Intent!

It was worth the effort of being both father and mother, raising undead himself to subdue them.

Twenty-seven subordinates who feared no death, ignored vital points, and obeyed absolutely were enough to ensure his self-preservation in the East Blue.

Undead creatures were natural warriors; they had no vital points, and their deceased bodies were free from any brain limitations that would hinder their performance.

Even a weak rabbit could unleash strength comparable to an adult male when it exploded into action, let alone this group who were already seasoned Navy soldiers.

Not to mention, most pirate crews couldn't even find twenty-seven combatants in total!

The food alone required by an old sailor daily was no small matter. The vast ocean offered unpredictable supplies, and he couldn't afford to support many.

As for the undead creatures, every single one could be put into combat.

They worked tirelessly 24/7 and didn't need to eat!

"It's just that their reaction speed is a bit slow. Against those with strong psychological fortitude, they'll eventually be at a disadvantage."

Putting away his joy, Lowett began to carefully observe his first batch of subordinates in this world.

Reaction speed, this was an unavoidable topic for zombie puppets.

They were undead existing on a foundation of rotten flesh. Controlling their bodies still relied on muscles, not souls. Despite their immense strength, their reaction speed was atrociously slow!

As for low-level undead, skeleton soldiers, after their blood had been refined and bones forged, controlled their bodies with the soul fire burning in their skulls. The signal delay could be reduced to almost "0".

Compared to ordinary people, they weren't much slower. But compared to other high-level undead, the difference was like heaven and earth...

In the wars of the mage world, zombie puppets were probably comparable to rifle bullets in modern warfare, perhaps even less important than bullets, considered mere cannon fodder of the lowest tier.

But they were incredibly easy to create. Even Lowett, who was less than a spell apprentice ten days ago, could easily make twenty-seven of them. To not use them would be going against nature.

Therefore, zombie puppets had a means of subsequent evolution: using flesh and blood magic to reconstruct their bodies and evolve into... the well-known ghouls, to compensate for their lack of reaction speed.

Why do ghouls eat?

Because their bodies haven't actually died and require nourishment.

Simple logic, wasn't it?

It had to be said, "living" held infinite possibilities. In the necromancer community, this was an indisputable conclusion.

"Some areas need to be stitched up. Not only are they leaky, but movement is also inconvenient."

Lowett frowned, looking at an undead with its stomach slit open, making up his mind.

"Let's go, deeper into the forest."

"The effect of the sleeping pills should be wearing off soon..."

He had indeed gone to the pharmacy during the day. The little old tomb keeper sleeping soundly was proof.

"Roar!"

Keeping the self-awareness of resurrected undead alive was a technical skill. Zombie puppets, with only simple logic remaining, naturally couldn't speak.

But they understood how to show obedience. The superior relationship from the soul level caused them to let out synchronized roars, closely following behind Lowett.

A team of twenty-eight people appeared incredibly small against the backdrop of the entire forest, quickly disappearing without a trace. But Lowett firmly believed this was just the beginning.

Whether for his own dream or that seemingly unsolvable mystery, he would not stop.

One day, whether it was the forest or the ocean, the sun or the moon, nothing would be able to obscure his presence!

For the next three days, Lowett was busy with matters concerning his undead troops.

The soil of the newly dug graves was fresh. After simple burial, no one could discover that the coffins had long been "vacated."

Dealing with simple wounds was very easy, but situations involving missing limbs or legs became extremely tricky.

Thus, to those in the know, Second Lieutenant Francis Lowett, the new officer who had "surrendered" from the pirates, always seemed absent-minded, lost in thought even on his way to the mess hall.

However, everyone could ignore it. Some hot-blooded young soldiers would even greet him proactively.

But...

If they knew what Lowett was thinking about, they definitely, absolutely, must have beaten him to death!

Grave robbing was also a dishonorable act among necromancers, but there was no choice. He had no materials on hand; even the cleverest cook can't cook without ingredients.

Navy branches didn't encounter life-or-death battles every moment.

Under normal circumstances, if a necromancer needed materials, besides hunting them themselves, they would mostly purchase them from human kingdoms.

After all, it was a world of mages, where everything existed to serve the mage community. Necromancers were also "noble mages," and when they had needs, people were willing to satisfy them.

Currently, Lowett's financial, strength, and network resources did not support him in obtaining experimental materials through normal means. He could only take the crooked path.

"Also, the acceptance of undead magic in any world is... rather low."

Lowett mused while eating absent-mindedly.

"Until I have a certain degree of self-preservation, I cannot incur the wrath of the masses."

"So..."

Morgan, also eating in the mess hall, shivered and looked up at Lowett strangely.

Smiling and nodding in greeting, Lowett had chosen his target.

"Former Captain of Branch 153, Skinner!"

As it happened, this person held a grudge against him. More accurately, he held a grudge against his predecessor, "Triangle Spellbreaker" Lowett.

The severed arm Lowett had when he awoke was precisely the one cut off by that Captain Skinner.

It was also precisely because of the chain reaction triggered by this severed arm that he was forced to temporarily take refuge in Branch 153.

Now, Lowett needed him to lend a "hand"...

Every action has its consequence.

"Also, after so much time has passed, that guy must... know by now that I'm not dead."

If you can't find the book title, try searching for the author. Maybe they just changed their name!

A cold glint flashed in his eyes, but it was hidden by his drooping bangs.

Lowett picked up his tray and walked to the dish return, handing it to the kitchen staff responsible for washing the dishes.

The person who took the tray was stunned. In the center of the tray lay a skull pieced together from chicken bones, resting quietly in the middle. It looked so... lifelike.

It was almost as if he had seen it somewhere before!

If the technology in this world wasn't so unbalanced, perhaps they could have used this skull to restore flesh and blood, recreating its original appearance... and then discovered that this person bore a 90% similarity to "Hundred Plans" Kuro!

East Blue, Syrup Village, a corner of the coast.

Working at sunrise and resting at sunset, the villagers of Syrup Village, long asleep, had no idea that a group of terrifying and cruel pirates had gathered on a beach less than a kilometer away in a straight line.

The Black Cat Pirates had already publicly announced a change in captain, further solidifying Morgan's achievements.

But the one silent by the campfire was undoubtedly "Hundred Plans" Kuro!

Zango, who had already become captain, trembled as he said nervously, "Cap... Captain, you know me, I would absolutely, absolutely never betray you."

Damn Lowett, to openly become a Navy Second Lieutenant?!

Zango gnashed his teeth in hatred.

As the most crucial part of the plan, the Black Cat Pirates immediately sent someone to Shells Town to gather information after the heat died down.

The good news was that the Navy hadn't discovered anything unusual, and Morgan had successfully become a Captain with the merit of "capturing" their captain.

But the bad news...

Lowett wasn't dead!!!

At this moment, Zango was terrified. He was afraid the Navy would discover the truth, and even more afraid that Kuro would develop some unpleasant thoughts about him.

If he had simply not died, it would have been understandable, but what did they hear?

Lowett was already a Second Lieutenant at Branch 153?!!

He was Morgan's peer?!

Who were they trying to fool?!

(╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻

Clever people are often suspicious; this saying couldn't be more fitting for Kuro.

Hearing this, Kuro did not speak.

If he didn't speak, Zango didn't dare to move. The midnight sea breeze was chilling and bone-piercing, causing the gaunt Zango to shiver all over.

After an unknown amount of time, as if he had understood Zango's loyalty, or perhaps... simply determined that he posed no significant threat, Kuro finally looked up.

"Your ability to hypnotize others was obtained by accidentally eating poisonous mushrooms, wasn't it?"

Zango didn't know why Kuro was asking this. Under extreme fear, his mind went blank. Hearing this, he nodded repeatedly.

"Yes, yes."

"Then there is no evidence to prove that this ability is unique..."

His glasses reflected the campfire, making his eyes unreadable.

Kuro clasped his hands together, resting them on his chin. "As an evil Devil Fruit user who controls corpses, it's also plausible that he possesses the same hypnotic ability."

"Yes... yes!"

Joy instantly surged through Zango's entire body. He swallowed hard.

"Not simple, that man..."

Kuro leaned back, resting his elbows on Sam, the "human bridge" behind him, and then crossed his legs, causing Buchi beneath him to jolt.

A single strand of hair, slicked back and neat, fell playfully onto his forehead, adding a touch of devilish charm.

Gazing quietly at the night sky, Kuro sighed.

"He definitely discovered the truth, but instead of exposing it directly, he used another hypnotic ability to weave and create an... unbreakable warm bed for himself."

As a result, while both were pirates, one hid and lurked in the shadows, while the other was exposed and open.

"It's truly... unfair!"

A cold killing intent permeated the air. Even the ocean seemed to fear the suppressed rage, ceasing to crash against the beach and make its annoying noise.

"I'm giving you one month, Zango..."

Kuro stared down at Zango with a cold, irrefutable tone as he issued his command.

"Kill him within a month!"

"If necessary..."

Kuro raised his hand to stop Zango from speaking and closed his eyes.

"I'll handle it myself!"

No matter how Lowett managed it, he was now a recognized Navy Second Lieutenant at Branch 153. Kuro held no expectations for this group of... trash.

But they still had the qualifications of cannon fodder, didn't they?

Zango stood by the campfire, but the fiercely burning logs offered no warmth.

A captain like Kuro, if he punished you on the spot, that was proof you could survive.

His face was still full of reverence, but no one knew what Zango was thinking behind his heart-shaped sunglasses.

The necromancer theme is a bit unpopular, and the editor also reminded me that this theme can easily lead to problems, so I will try my best to reduce certain descriptions of gore. I hope everyone is mentally prepared.

Also, thank you all for your recommendation tickets, thank you very much!

The contract issue will likely be resolved in the next two days. If the courier is fast, it'll be Friday; if slow, Monday. It's also time for me to... download the author's assistant again.

I got a new phone and don't have any software on it. I can't post from the web version, which is really annoying.