The Storm Begins to Abate (2)

"What about the fresh corpses?" the captain's tone gradually softened.

"The first mate's remaining loyalists, the wavering ones—they're all sources of corpses." Xia Lun paused, then continued, "Listen, Geliide. It isn't entirely a bad thing that it eats people. We can use the fear and suspicion this brings to divide and dismantle our enemies."

"What we need now is to unite the remaining people, not use fear to divide them!" The captain's voice grew urgent. "If you listen to that monster's nonsense, we'll only be picked apart amid mutual suspicion. Our only chance is to go up there and unite everyone for a desperate fight."

"That's why we must execute those who retreat and waver." Xia Lun spoke calmly. "And we don't know where the others stand. If you speak rashly, you're very likely to trigger another mutiny. Then it will all be over."

The captain nearly laughed. She suddenly leaned forward, her chestnut eyes fixed on Xia Lun. "How do you know who will waver? Are you the Mind Worm the priest talked about?"

Xia Lun turned his head and looked seriously into the captain's eyes. "You should trust me. We're allies—I naturally have a way, a very reliable way."

The captain took a hard drag from her pipe, her brows tightly furrowed. A few seconds later, she slowly exhaled a ring of smoke.

"Fine. Then I'd like to see what kind of method you have."

"What method do I have?!"

On the deck, the gunner howled hysterically, his voice shrill as a child's.

"By the time I got there, the first mate was already dead! I saw it with my own eyes!"

"Bang! One shot, and the first mate's pointed head exploded into red coral! You can't imagine how fast that prisoner's gun was!"

Beside the gunner, the one-eyed old man sneered. "So everyone who knew how to sail the ship and determine its heading is dead. Wonderful. We're finished."

"Look on the bright side. At least the storm is dying down, and we're already far from the storm zone." The stout priest gripped the holy emblem on his chest and offered a grave consolation. "We need to find a way to rescue the captain. She's still alive."

"Rescue the captain? The first thing she'll do when she comes up is kill us all." Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, the gunner sprang up. "As long as you didn't stop the mutiny, you took part in it."

"She'll still need people to help sail the ship. There aren't many living people left aboard now." The old man shook his head. "Even if she wants to settle scores, it'll have to wait until we reach Perilous Earth Island."

"Then you go down and rescue her?" The gunner sneered. "I'm not going."

"We can recruit a few prisoners who know how to sail." The old man drew his dagger and tossed it into the air. "That's an option too. We have plenty of food and water now."

The priest sighed, then looked with considerable pity at the corpses strewn behind him.

"Thanks to our merciful gunner, who nearly killed everyone to prevent the prisoners from rebelling."

The gunner's eyes widened. "Don't talk nonsense. Aren't there still a few willing to work with us?"

"Oh, right, he didn't kill them all. But there are only three left." The priest sighed and looked at the defecting sailors tossing corpses into the sea.

One of them, a thin sailor wearing broken round glasses, seemed to notice their gaze. He turned and gave the three pirate leaders discussing matters a gentle, shy smile.

"Bringing people into the fold is a long process. You cross their bottom lines bit by bit." The priest complained at length. "It's not like I can mind-control people. How could I turn them into outlaws with just a few words? Why did you kill them so quickly?"

"I don't know that kind of technique." The gunner's voice gradually weakened. "I killed them only to prevent a riot."

"Bang!" The old man impatiently drove his dagger into the table. The table shook slightly, splashing a pool of icy droplets.

"Enough, enough. Stop blaming each other. Do any of those three have skills? Any senior crewmen?" he asked in a low voice.

"Just one doctor—the one with the broken glasses." The priest pointed behind him. "The prisoners' captain committed suicide before we boarded them. The first mate died in battle. The trainee apprentices all died in battle too."

"What about their navigator?" The old man narrowed his eye slightly.

"The prisoner who called himself Carpenter, then badly wounded the sea monster and slaughtered the first mate's whole group, is the navigator." The priest smiled. "He's fallen into the hold now too."

The gunner let out a flippant whistle. "So we're back where we started."

"Then we drift for now. Things will turn around eventually." The old man pulled out his dagger, and his expression suddenly turned vicious. "If it comes to it, we'll light the whale oil below deck and die with the monster!"

He continued, "We absolutely can't let this thing harm anyone else. If it follows another ship to Perilous Earth Island, then..."

"The monster kills people, and we kill people. So what if it goes to Perilous Earth Island? What, you old pirate want to play hero?" The gunner coldly cut him off, squinting at the one-eyed old man.

The atmosphere suddenly froze.

The old man suddenly grinned, seeming to have figured something out. His gaze toward the gunner grew increasingly cold.

"Everyone's property, and their mistresses, are all on Perilous Earth Island. If this monster follows us there, it'll all be over." The priest tried to smooth things over. "But we don't necessarily have to die together..."

The gunner whistled again. "I'm an old bachelor anyway, with nothing tying me down—but I'm not talking about you lot. We've always done work that risks our lives. What's the point of keeping so much money? Don't tell me you still want to retire? Surely not, surely not? I say keeping yourself alive is what matters most."

"Here's some advice, boy." The old man smiled without warmth, the wrinkles on his face squeezing into a slit. "The more afraid of death you are at sea, the easier it is to die."

"Old man, I've got some advice for you too." The gunner gripped his gun handle, his face devoid of a smile. "Don't throw your seniority around with me."

"Bang!"

The next moment, the deck door beside them was suddenly smashed open from within. The two men poised for a fight both jumped in fright.

"Put your weapons down." The captain barked sharply as she stepped onto the deck, her gaze sweeping coldly over the three men. "Are you still going to keep fighting among yourselves?"

The captain had actually returned?!

The gunner instinctively tightened his grip on his gun, about to fire, when his pupils suddenly contracted.

Behind the captain, a silent black-haired man was coldly watching him—it was the prisoner who had shot the first mate!

The captain had joined forces with that prisoner?!

His heartbeat suddenly stopped.

In an instant, fear seized his heart and mind like icy claws. The horrifying, bloody battle in the hold flashed before his eyes scene by scene.

Shattered skulls, spraying blood, ruptured eyeballs, fleeting screams, the rasping sounds born of prolonged suffocation—in the end, amid the smell of blood and gunpowder, all those visions became a pair of black eyes examining him.

At that moment, the gunner felt completely terrified. He did not dare make the slightest reckless move.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the ambush gunners stationed at the other two exits. They had not even realized that the captain had returned to the deck!

"Bang!"

A deafening gunshot exploded beside his ear. The piercing soundwave struck the gunner's brain like a heavy hammer, making him jolt violently.

—It took him a moment to realize that the captain had just fired a shot into the air!

"Get over here, all of you! I have something to announce!" the captain shouted.