Island

In Wes's mind, the words "Pirates of the Caribbean~~" swept over him like ocean waves, instantly sketching a vivid image.

A pirate with a dainty raised finger, smoky makeup on his face, and the unruly attire of a rock singer.

That image belonged to the renowned Captain Jack Sparrow. In the legendary tale of Pirates of the Caribbean, he was undoubtedly the most dazzling protagonist.

Captain Jack Sparrow had spent his life adventuring, bravely crossing storm-tossed seas and never backing down in the face of danger and challenge.

"Could this world have a way to deal with the wronged souls within the Philosopher's Stone?"

After several strange journeys between worlds, Wes had begun to realize that although the mysterious panel offered neither quests nor rewards, the appearance of each new world seemed to contain clues to resolving his current predicament.

He did not intend to act rashly. After all, the school year had not yet ended, and there was no telling how much time this trip to the world of Pirates of the Caribbean would take.

He decided to wait until summer vacation before setting off.

And before he left, he needed to make thorough preparations.

After all, Wes knew practically nothing about sailing.

Wes went to the library, his gaze wandering between the shelves as his fingers lightly brushed over every valuable book on navigation. He carefully leafed through ancient sea charts and sailors' logs, as though he could glimpse the secrets hidden in the depths of the ocean.

Because Wes had dealt with the Basilisk ahead of time, Hogwarts seemed to be covered by a veil of tranquility afterward, with no more strange incidents taking place.

Lockhart, however, continued to stir up trouble amid that peace.

At first, those incidents caused a small stir, but people soon discovered that not only did they fail to raise his popularity further, they instead seemed to draw back a splendid curtain, fully exposing his flashy exterior and hollow core.

As the last batch of students reluctantly departed Hogwarts, the lazy air of summer vacation quietly descended.

At that time, filled with anticipation, Wes embarked on a brand-new adventure.

The surroundings were shrouded in the deep night, as though the entire world had been dyed black with ink.

The sea breeze brushed against him, carrying the salty scent of the ocean. In the distance, waves struck the shore in a low, powerful rhythm, like an ancient ballad recounting the sea's mystery and might.

A bright moon hung high in the velvet-deep sky, its watery light gently spilling across the glittering sea as though draping the ocean in a thin silver veil.

"This is..." Wes narrowed his eyes slightly and carefully surveyed his surroundings. "An island??"

He muttered to himself, both excited and nervous. In this vast sea, every island could be the beginning of an adventure, and islands like this were as countless as stars.

"First, I need to find out where this is. Hopefully it isn't a deserted island." Wes murmured softly before casting the Levitation Charm.

His body slowly rose, floating lightly in midair like a nocturnal owl silently surveying its surroundings.

To the north of the small island, a faint light flickered in and out of view in the darkness, like guidance from a distant lighthouse.

"I'll go there and ask around."

Having made up his mind, Wes adjusted his direction and slowly floated toward that light.

When Wes's feet touched the ground again, the muddy road beneath them made him frown slightly.

The surrounding houses stood crookedly, one pressed against another, like forgotten toys casually discarded across this desolate land.

And at a nearby corner, Wes saw several corpses sprawled across the ground.

The bodies gave off waves of stench, the pungent odor filling the air.

This doesn't seem like a good place, Wes thought to himself.

He took a deep breath and decided to continue onward, searching for the source of the light.

As he gradually approached it, he discovered that it was shining through the window of a small wooden house.

Before he even got close, Wes was engulfed by waves of noise: men cheering, crude curses, fierce fighting, and even the sharp echoes of gunfire now and then.

"Captain Hook." When Wes saw the sign hanging before the ramshackle wooden house, his heart stirred, and he vaguely guessed where he was—this was a pirate den.

This was a haven where those sea plunderers fenced stolen goods, sought pleasure, and hid from naval pursuit.

The corners of Wes's lips lifted into a sly smile. "Perfect. I can gather some information here."

These pirates spent all year roaming the seas, so they were exceptionally well informed.

Wes believed these "hospitable" pirates would give him an answer he found satisfactory.

He reached out and gently pushed open the tavern door, deliberately making it creak to draw the attention of those inside.

The pirates who were playing cards, drinking themselves silly, and flirting with prostitutes all stopped what they were doing and turned toward the door.

"Good evening, everyone." Under the curious and wary gazes of all the pirates, Wes walked in with composure.

The pirates began sizing Wes up from head to toe.

"The robe he's wearing is probably worth several dozen silver coins," a one-eyed pirate said first.

"This brat's skin is softer than a fucking woman's," another pirate muttered disdainfully.

"You can tell at a glance he's some noble young master who ran away from home," another pirate declared with certainty.

Several pirates looked at Wes as though they had spotted a fat sheep, greedily staring at him as if every item on his body were a priceless treasure.

But even more pirates remained calm.

"This place is far from the mainland. For him to reach it without a scratch, he must have something to rely on."

An old pirate with a face full of wrinkles and sharp eyes spoke in a low voice.

"You can't underestimate anyone who makes a living on the sea." Another pirate chimed in with a slight nod, his gaze roaming over Wes as though searching for some clue.

"Especially someone who can keep himself this clean at sea," a shrewd pirate added, a meaningful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

These seasoned pirates could tell that Wes was no ordinary man. They knew that on this merciless sea, casually provoking trouble often meant disaster.

As for the pirates without any sense, in their eyes, death was simply commonplace at sea and not worth making a fuss over.

Wes walked up to the bar. Though the tables and stools were covered in grime, he showed no sign of disgust. He sat down steadily and said calmly, "Boss, I'm looking for someone."

Behind the bar, the owner—a burly man with a knife scar across his face and no expression whatsoever—swept his eyes over Wes, then continued wiping the cup in his hand as if he had not heard him.

"Look at me, I nearly forgot the rules." Wes chuckled softly, and a gold coin suddenly appeared in his hand.

Under the dim light, the coin gleamed with an enticing radiance, like a brilliant star that drew everyone's attention.

Those gazes were filled with undisguised greed and ill intent, like a pack of hungry wolves spotting prey.

Yet Wes acted as though he had not noticed their stares at all, casually tossing the gold coin to the owner.

The coin traced a golden arc through the air and landed precisely in the owner's rough palm.

The moment it touched his hand, the owner judged from its weight and texture that it was genuine gold, of the purest quality.