"Brando-"
On the deck of the Black Death, Tracy softly murmured someone's name, her voice so quiet that only she could hear it.
"Could it be-you really are still alive, and still-"
At the thought of that possibility, her whole body trembled slightly with excitement. A twisted smile mingling ecstasy, possessiveness, and sick obsession spread across her face. Watching their captain's strange reaction, as though she were laughing and crying at once, the surrounding sailors exchanged bewildered looks. None of them dared ask a question, afraid of provoking this temperamental woman.
A moment later, Tracy put away the brand-new Ripper and turned to leave. She had to return to her room immediately and check again.
"C-Captain-" The sailor who had bought the gun mustered his courage and spoke shakily. "That gun-could you give it back to me-"
It had cost him over twenty pounds! That was enough to buy hundreds of bottles of liquor.
Uh!
Tracy stopped abruptly. Turning slightly, she gave the sailor an icy glance out of the corner of her eye.
That single glance was enough for the sailor to feel a bone-chilling murderous intent.
"No! Never mind! If you like it, it's yours! It's my honor!"
Back in the captain's cabin.
Tracy carefully picked up the handmade shotgun she treasured from beside her pillow, placed it alongside the mass-produced Ripper in her hand, and compared them closely.
Although she was already almost certain, seeing the evidence with her own eyes still put her more at ease-
After a long while, she casually tossed the brand-new Ripper aside, hugged the crude handmade gun tightly to her chest, and lay straight down on the bed. Its cold, rough body rose and fell gently against her soft curves.
"If-if that really is the case-"
"But the corpse I saw