"C-Captain?! What brings you here...?"
In the dim hideout, the wineglass in "Sly Talker" Misor's hand nearly slipped from his grasp.
His eyes widened as he stared in disbelief at Tracy, who had suddenly pushed the door open and walked in.
She wore an obviously ill-fitting men's trench coat. Her long black hair was covered in dust, and her reddened cheeks were still flushed from running hard. She looked thoroughly travel-worn.
It was a far cry from the ever-dashing, impeccably dressed captain Misor remembered.
"Why are you here?" Rather than answering his question, Tracy coldly surveyed the third mate who had joined them midway.
Her icy gaze made Misor involuntarily shrink back.
"Captain, while you were gone, none of us dared make any rash moves..." Misor swallowed and answered honestly. "And with things so tense lately, I've been hiding here for the time being..."
He cautiously watched Tracy's expression before asking with some hesitation, "By the way, Captain, where have you been all this time? The first mate and the others said you'd already been in an accident and..."
He swallowed the rest of his words, but his meaning was clear enough.
"I'm not dead." Tracy's tone was icy. "Are you here alone?"
"No." Misor hurriedly shook his head and pointed out the window. "Six of my sailors are here too. They're at a bar nearby."
In truth, as a newcomer, Misor was being ostracized by the first mate, second mate, and the others. After the captain disappeared,
the power struggle aboard the ship had grown fiercer, and an "outsider" like him had naturally become everyone's target.
Rather than stay aboard and fall victim to someone's schemes, it was safer to hide here and drown his sorrows. At least he was reasonably safe and didn't have to worry about being