688
In Bayam, in the Rorsted Archipelago, inside a secret Resistance Army base.
The wooden bowl in Danitz's hand nearly fell. He stared somewhat blankly at the man before him:
"You're Ghost Captain, Alger Wilson?"
"You, you're also a believer of the Sea God's-no, you're also..." Danitz instinctively glanced around, confirming that he was the only other person in the room before continuing rather shakily, "...a believer of Mr. Fool?"
Alger Wilson, who had thoroughly disguised himself, darkened his skin, and changed into a full set of local clothes, tucked a lock of blue hair that had escaped his headscarf back inside. Looking at the "Oracle," he slowly nodded.
"Yes."
The blue-haired Ghost Captain, Alger Wilson, was actually one of us! Danitz could hardly believe it. This low-profile but far from weak captain supposedly had some ambiguous connection with the Church of Storms, too. But with a member like him around, why had that fellow Gehrman chosen to take me hostage when he first came out to sea, rather than ask Alger Wilson for help?
In Danitz's eyes, an experienced, powerful captain was clearly far more useful than a boatswain like himself!
Did he want to avoid exposure? Was it Gehrman who didn't want to expose himself? Or were Ghost Captain's ties to the Church of Storms more than just rumors...
Many thoughts flashed through Danitz's mind.
Most importantly, if this was no rumor, Alger Wilson, who had become a "captain," might well be a Mandated Punisher or a minor bishop of the Church of Storms. If he wanted to defect to their side, that would be an enormous matter!
Hunters dared to challenge themselves, but they were also always good at seeking benefits and avoiding danger, and did not pursue prey beyond their abilities.
Judging by the sense of