Figarland Stinks

Lead-gray clouds hung low, like a filthy rag soaked in sewage draped across the sky.

Thin shafts of sunlight pierced through gaps in the clouds, slanting across the gloomy sea and scattering broken patches of gold among the waves.

A three-masted Government Ship bearing the World Government's flag plowed through the waves, its white sails swollen by the cold wind blowing from the northwest.

A scarlet velvet carpet covered the deck, utterly out of place against the gray sea and sky.

A high-backed chair inlaid with sapphires and rubies stood at the bow, and a young man sat upon it.

He had long red hair, with the hair at his temples braided into delicate plaits. The hood of his dark blue cloak rested on his shoulders, revealing an excessively ornate long-sleeved formal coat beneath. Eight buttons adorned each side of the front, with four pairs linked by fine silver chains, while a cravat was tied around his collar.

Even aboard the rocking ship, he maintained the elegant bearing of a noble.

A member of God's Knights, Figarland Shamrock.

"Still refusing to talk? Filthy commoner, where exactly is the Revolutionary Army's rat hole?"

Shamrock raised his left foot and planted the sole of his boot on the back of the woman kneeling on the carpet, slowly applying pressure.

The woman was bound tightly in iron chains. Her short pink hair was stained with blood and sweat, and her face was bruised black and blue. Yet she still bared her bloodstained teeth in a grin.

Ginny spat a mouthful of bloody saliva, splattering it across Shamrock's polished leather boot.

"I have nothing to say to trash like you. Calling everyone commoners—you're nothing but garbage piled together by bloodline and privilege. You're not even worthy of carrying Brother Dragon's shoes—

"Oh, sorry. I