Division

The Activated Rope was far more powerful than Ian had imagined.

However, it was too short. Even with its high efficiency, it could obviously only handle the sail on the mainmast.

A modern Galleon usually had four masts. To mount a cannon at the bow and ensure a clear firing arc, Ian had deliberately removed the bowsprit, but the ship still had three masts. The Activated Rope alone clearly wasn't enough.

"Milta, I have a task for you."

Ian "woke" Milta, who stood there looking blank. "Get the sails tied to the remaining masts as soon as possible. Be ready to set sail at any time."

That was right. Ian's plan was to tie on the sails, but not raise them. They only needed to look the part.

If anyone at sea saw Ian without his sails up and thought they could come over and "take advantage," Ian wouldn't mind teaching them a lesson while he was at it.

Hearing the captain's voice, Milta came back to himself and said excitedly, "Captain, I won't let you down!"

Perhaps seeing so many incredible things lately had made Milta much better at adapting.

Milta gathered up the ropes and looked ready to work through the night. Ian went over and lightly kicked him. "Go back and rest. You can do it tomorrow."

They tidied up their things and prepared to return to the tower to rest.

"Hey, Milta, did anyone come looking for me today?"

At the third-floor stairwell, just as Milta was about to return to his room, Ian suddenly asked, as if something had just occurred to him.

"No, Captain. I was here all day. Nobody came by."

Milta sounded certain.

Ian waved him off to go rest, then returned to his room, lost in thought.

Today was the day of his deal with the Whaling Group. According to their agreement, Lia should have come by early that morning to make the second trade.

When Ian left that morning, he had deliberately waited for a while, but Lia never showed up.

He'd assumed something had held her up. Before leaving, Ian had put the items in the living room and told Milta to take Lia straight to the fourth floor if she came by.

But even now, the person he was waiting for still hadn't arrived.

Ian stood by the window, the sea breeze making his coat flap. He looked toward the Breath of the Ocean and decided he would go over first thing in the morning.

"Smash!"

A pipe hit the ground hard again, but this time it couldn't withstand its owner's fury. It shattered into pieces that scattered everywhere.

Its owner didn't even spare it a glance.

Abigail was worked up, his bulbous nose red and his mustache trembling.

"Wake up! Don't let profit numb your minds! Who do you think those people are, philanthropists? They just want to use—"

A slightly shrill voice cut him off, its tone harsh.

"You're the one who needs to wake up, Captain! You're the stubborn one! Why was the Whaling Group founded? To survive, to make sure everyone had gold and a chance to become Extraordinary. Now there's a better opportunity. Why not seize it—"

"The New Continent isn't some sweet pastry. It's a whirlpool on the ocean floor that devours everything. Anyone who gets involved will be torn to pieces—"

"Fortune favors the bold! Where in the Sea of Miracles is there no danger? Is hunting sea beasts risk-free? Have you forgotten how our brothers died last month?"

"..."

The heated arguments echoed through the room.

The Whaling Group's internal meeting had started early that morning and was still going on. The atmosphere had grown more and more strained, and everyone was getting increasingly worked up.

Damir stood behind the captain's sofa, his expression cold. To him, these people were ungrateful. Without the captain, most of them wouldn't have survived this long.

Lia stood with her arms folded, leaning against the wall in the shadows, her face expressionless. But her fingers were rigid from gripping too hard; she wasn't nearly as calm as she seemed.

That morning, just as she was about to go see Ian, she'd suddenly received notice that all the Whaling Group's senior members had been called to a meeting.

The organizers weren't the captain, but the captains of the various whaling ships, led by Warren. All twelve captains had shown up.

Warren had brought up the old proposal again: the Poderia Admiralty's plan to incorporate the Whaling Group and establish the Fourth Fleet.

Abigail took several deep breaths and looked around the room: Warren, whose bald head had turned red and shiny with anger; Greg and Jill, who kept their heads down in silence; Uma, whose usual smile had vanished, leaving him looking pained...

Abigail sank back into the sofa, his spirits flagging. He knew the Poderia Admiralty was deliberately sowing discord, but once people's hearts had turned away...

Even if he forced them to stay, the Whaling Group would never be what it once was. Besides, this time, he couldn't hold them back.

"If that's how it is, I won't force anyone. Whoever wants to leave may do so; I won't stop them. But I have a few things to say first. If anyone disobeys, don't blame me for showing no mercy."

Now that he'd calmed down, Abigail had regained the air of authority that came with his position. The room fell silent at once.

"First, whether to leave the Whaling Group is a personal choice. No one is to pressure anyone else!"

Abigail's gaze sharpened as he looked at the captains.

"Second, you may only take what belongs to you. The Whaling Group gave many of you your Extraordinary Sequences, and I can let you keep them. But many captains' ships belong to the group. You are forbidden to take them!"

Abigail stood and surveyed the room. "Now, let's hear what you've decided!"

Warren rose without hesitation and walked to the other side of the room.

Greg and Jill hesitated, then stood up as well and walked with their heads lowered to stand behind Warren.

Damir's fingers gripped his sword hilt until they turned white. His teeth ground together as he glared at Greg and Jill.

Uma clasped both hands over his head, buried his face between his knees, and remained silent.

The other eight Sixth-rate Ship captains exchanged glances, then one after another went to stand behind Warren.

Damir, wound tight with anger, could hold back no longer. He drew his sword with a sharp ring and cried hoarsely, "You traitors—!"

Abigail grabbed Damir's hand and held it down. Then he looked toward the people on the other side. They all silently averted their eyes, not daring to meet his gaze.

"Everyone's free to choose for themselves. Life and death are up to fate! When you leave, make sure to pass along my instructions and requirements. The day after tomorrow, at the Whaling Group's docks. Everyone must be there!"

A fairly unified chorus of agreement followed, and the group began filing out of the room.

As Abigail watched them leave, his expression shifted again and again.

The moment he'd seen nearly every captain standing against him, he'd known things were worse than he'd imagined.

"The Admiralty certainly knows how to play its hand. I wouldn't interfere if they were offering people benefits, but if they dare coerce my crew, do they really think my name is all bluster?"

Abigail was usually broad-minded, but this time he was truly furious. He would get to the bottom of everything.

"Damir, you're coming with me tomorrow."

"Uma, I need you to return to your ship and gather the crew. Wait for orders."

"Lia, well... get some rest. Try to stay indoors for the next few days. Suspend all outside dealings."