The First Crewmate

On the fourth floor of the tower, Ian finished his alchemy for the day and found Wawa still asleep.

Wawa's head width was about to exceed the door's width. If it wanted to go out again, it would have to break through the wall.

But considering the tower's thick walls, Ian simply wrapped Wawa in burlap, covered it with Magical Cloth, and moved the entire thing to the observation deck on the top floor.

"You'll have to endure this for now. When you wake up, you'll need to get into the sea to adapt anyway."

To prevent the Magical Cloth from blowing away, Ian securely nailed it to the ground.

Ian didn't know when Wawa would wake up, so he decided not to leave the tower for the time being.

In the afternoon, Ian spent his time meditating and refining.

Spirituality and Mana didn't need to be supplied to Wawa and were relatively abundant. Ian decided to refine more Enchanted Weapon Oil to prepare for the auction.

In the evening, the sea breeze grew stronger, and the craftsmen had all gone home.

Ian laid out the dinner delivered by the Barley Tavern on the dining table on the fourth floor. Just as he was about to enjoy it, he sensed someone approaching the tower.

A carriage from the Breath of the Ocean stopped outside the tower's main entrance. Lia, with a small, thin figure in tow, was waiting at the door.

"Milta?"

The thin figure waiting at the door was Milta, a crew member from the Windbreaker.

Milta also saw Ian from the Gate of Opening and, with a surprised bow, greeted him, "Mr. Trist."

Lia, standing beside him, suddenly spoke:

"He came to the Breath of the Ocean looking for you, saying he had a letter. So I brought him over."

The sea breeze howled, making their voices somewhat indistinct.

Ian quickly brought Lia and Milta into the fourth floor of the tower. Once the door was closed, the room became much quieter.

"Have you eaten?"

Ian asked the two of them.

"We've eaten. You two talk."

Lia voluntarily sat to the side, giving Ian and Milta their time.

Milta, however, was hesitant. Ian could tell at a glance that he hadn't eaten.

"Sit down, eat first."

Milta instinctively obeyed and sat down, then immediately sprang up. He took out a gray paper-sealed letter from his chest and handed it to Ian.

"This is a letter Captain asked me to deliver to Mr. Trist."

Ian took the letter and saw that it indeed had his name on it, and the sender was Homan.

"Did Captain Homan say anything else?"

"No, the Captain just told me to deliver the letter."

Ian placed a fish steak and bread on a small table nearby, letting Milta eat first, and then opened the letter to read.

Captain Homan's letter contained two important pieces of information.

The first piece of news was that the Windbreaker had been requisitioned. To be precise, all the ships of the Hansa Trading Company had been requisitioned.

They were to set sail fully loaded with supplies tomorrow and rendezvous with the Royal Niger Company's fleet, heading straight for the Lucia Archipelago.

The requisitioning party was the Poldoria Kingdom's Navy, with the objective of transporting supplies for the exploration of the new continent.

Although the Windbreaker was nominally under the Hansa Trading Company, it was Captain Homan's private property.

He could have refused, but the Navy had offered him terms he couldn't refuse.

The Windbreaker had already hoisted the Navy's flag. A large number of new crew members had joined the Windbreaker under the Navy's arrangement. The senior positions had been largely replaced, and a small number of unqualified sailors had been dismissed. It was almost a complete overhaul.

Milta was undoubtedly among the unqualified.

Ian glanced at Milta, who was silently eating and not mentioning the matter, and didn't immediately question him.

The second piece of news was that Bloody Hand Collier had died.

Just yesterday, the Royal Niger Company announced that they had killed Collier and captured the Bloody Hand Pirate Ship, collecting the bounty with his head.

According to the Royal Niger Company's public statement, they encountered the Bloody Hand Pirates while searching for Blackbeard.

They confirmed that the Bloody Hand Pirates were accomplices in Blackbeard's attack on Storm Cape, and only failed to rendezvous in time due to the rough seas that day.

Besides these two events, the rest of the letter consisted of meaningless greetings and pleasantries.

These two seemingly unrelated events gave Ian a clear signal: the competition for the new continent had begun, and various powers were investing and entering the fray!

Ian suddenly turned to Lia: "Lia, have there been any recent reports from the new continent?"

Lia was taken aback. "There are no latest reports. However, there is a related piece of news. The Poderia Navy wanted to incorporate the Whaling Group and form a fourth fleet. But the Guild Leader refused."

Ian paused, thinking the Navy's appetite was quite large. He was curious about what kind of offer the Navy could make to absorb the Whaling Group.

The Whaling Group possessed one sailing warship meeting the standard of a Level 4 heavy armored cruiser, four Level 5 cruisers, and nine Level 6 frigates.

If not for the fact that Level 1-3 battleships were too cumbersome and unsuitable for ocean voyages and pursuits, it wouldn't have been impossible for the Whaling Group to possess battleships.

Although they lost several Level 6 ships during the hunt for the extraordinary creature, the Terror Blind Whale, their foundation wasn't damaged. In terms of strength, they weren't weaker than the Kingdom's Third Fleet, which was short on personnel and ships.

Ian stroked his chin, lost in thought. The recent chaos in Paradise Port was likely just the beginning, with all the major powers growing restless.

His heart also felt a slight stir. An opportunity to fish in troubled waters and take revenge had arrived.

"Milta, you've left the Windbreaker, haven't you?"

Seeing that Milta had basically finished eating, Ian suddenly asked.

Milta froze for a moment.

When the sailors were kicked off the ship earlier, he had been lamenting his own luck.

But today, the captain had asked him to deliver a letter and told him not to return after delivering it.

Milta had felt a wave of panic. He was abandoned again. He didn't know where to go; he had no home.

He clutched the gold coin the captain had stuffed into his hand and wandered aimlessly through Paradise Port, taking wrong turns multiple times until, with the sun about to set, he hurried to the Breath of the Ocean.

Milta snapped back to reality, avoiding Ian's gaze and lowering his head as he said, "Yes... yes."

In his life, only two people had ever treated him with gentleness: his mother who raised him, and Mr. Trist.

He could accept being looked down upon by everyone, but he couldn't bear to face their eyes.

Ian pretended not to see Milta's awkwardness and grinned, "That's great news."

Milta looked up in surprise, "Huh?"

"I have a ship, and I'm in need of experienced sailors. Milta, would you be willing to become my employee?"

Ian had made this decision after careful consideration. Although Milta was frail, he possessed two advantages that other sailors lacked.

One was his intelligence; he was logical in his speech and actions. Captain Homan often assigned him small tasks, and he always performed them well.

The other was that he didn't have the bad habits of other sailors.

Sailors of this era were prone to drinking, gambling, fighting, and poor hygiene – they had few good habits.

Milta, perhaps influenced by his mother in his childhood, was quite decent.

Upon hearing Ian's words, Milta's face lit up with surprise, yet he dared not agree:

"I, but I... I don't have much strength, and I can't do anything well..."

Ian saw Milta's hesitation and smiled, "No one knows everything from birth. If you have no objections, then it's settled.

The second floor is the storeroom, with spare living supplies. Pick a room on the third floor and settle in. Go on."

Ian tossed a set of keys to Milta and arranged for him to go rest.

Milta nervously took the keys, froze for a moment, and then, holding the keys, his face filled with emotion:

"Thank you, Mr. Trist. From now on, your will shall be my mission!"

Watching Milta stammer out words he must have heard somewhere, Ian was amused and exasperated. He waved him away, urging him to go downstairs quickly.