The lobby of the " Pritz Harbor Ticketing Company " was quite spacious, with a total of seven ticket windows, but there were already a dozen or twenty people queuing in front of each window.
Klein glanced around, but instead of heading straight to the line with fewer people, he took two steps to the right and came to a straight, upright brown wooden board.
A continuous sheet of white paper was pasted on the wooden board, displaying all the passenger ship information for the past week, including destinations, ports of call, and prices for different cabin classes.
Before Klein could examine it closely, a staff member came over, drew a red circle around the second-class section of one of the rows, and marked a word:
Sold out.
"They're in high demand..." Klein muttered to himself.
"Of course, Pritz Harbor is the kingdom's largest port, and countless people pass through here to seek opportunities on the Southern Continent and those colonial islands," a middle-aged man standing beside the wooden plank replied with a slightly exaggerated air.
He wore a black soft cap and a black and white checkered police uniform, but without shoulder insignia, only a seagull badge on his chest—exactly the same as the logo of " Pritz Harbor Ticketing Company ".
The middle-aged man's face, hands, and all exposed skin were bronze in color and quite rough, as if he had been exposed to the sea breeze and the Sun for many years, giving the impression that salt had seeped into his wrinkles.
If there's a dispute, find the guard in the lobby... This must be the guard... Klein remembered the notice at the entrance, and, not minding that the other person had taken the initiative to talk to him, smiled and said:
"You seem to know this port very well?"
Upon hearing this question, the middle-aged man answered with considerable pride:
"I used to be Sailor in the Kingdom's Navy. Their main base was on Oak Island in Pritz Harbor. I served there for 15 years, spending a long time at sea. If the war in East Balam hadn't ruined my health, I could have Sailor for another 10 years! I know this port as well as I know my wife's body!"
Somewhat cultured, yet somewhat vulgar... Klein, already eager to gather information at sea, casually remarked:
"After you retired, you came here to work as a guard?"
"No, I was crammed into a night school for two whole years, being both a student and a Gatekeeper. With the Storm raging, can you imagine someone my age reading aloud with a bunch of kids who were only a few years old or teenagers? And they knew and memorized words much faster than I did!" The guard looked on with a look of utter dismay.
As he spoke, he patted the outside of his thigh and sighed:
"Unfortunately, my knees can't take it when the weather is damp and cold, otherwise I would work part-time as a night school teacher. Those kids make you feel young again. But I don't deny that I did it to earn more money. When you have a wife and four kids, you have to realize that you have to support your family."
Sir, you talk too much... That's probably why the ticketing company hired you as a guard... Klein didn't respond to the other person's question, but smiled and said:
"I just checked the notice at the entrance and found that opening canned wolffish is not allowed here. To be honest, I've never heard of such a thing before."
The guard's expression suddenly became complicated.
He pinched his nose and said:
"That's a food popular in places like the east coast of Feysac and the Gargas Archipelago. It's wolffish preserved in salt, but it retains its blood and smell—the smell is extremely, extremely, extremely pungent, both foul and disgusting!"
It turns out to be a kind of culinary disaster... Klein laughed heartily:
"But I don't think anyone would deliberately eat canned food while queuing to buy tickets, right?"
"No, you don't understand that feeling. Maybe one day you will." The guard looked shaken. "Once, a Barbarian from the north came here to buy a ticket, but there was already a long line ahead of him, filling the hall like a barrel full of fish. He was in a hurry, so he opened a can of wolffish. In less than ten seconds, the entire hall was empty except for him and a few other guys."
This... this is a biological weapon... a regular version of a " Biotoxin Bottle "... Klein chuckled.
He eventually managed to buy the ticket, but there were new notices outside?
"The result wasn't as he expected. The lady and gentleman in charge of selling tickets also escaped. Ha, you know, Barbarian ' brains are even worse than curly-haired baboons!" the guard chuckled. "Back when I was Sailor, there was a rumor at sea that a group of pirates had taken control of a merchant ship from Laus, ah, that's a city on the east coast of Feysac. Anyway, those pirates eagerly opened their spoils, only to find barrels filled with pickled wolffish. And can you imagine what happened? They got dizzy, vomited, lost their fighting ability, and became the crew's bounty."
"A good story." Klein suppressed a laugh.
He turned his gaze back to the papers on the wooden board, searching for information about the ship on January 5th.
As a professional, he had Divination beforehand about auspicious dates for departure this week: the 5th and the 8th. Among the passenger ships heading to the Rorsted Archipelago on the 5th, the Saint Fueran and the White Agate were the most suitable for him.
Tickets were still available, and the prices were about the same: third class £4, second class £10, first class £35... People who make a living from the sea more or less believe in the " Lord of Storms." Even in countries like Intis and Feysac, fishermen and sailors secretly worship this forbidden deity in hopes of a safe voyage... The name Saint Fueran immediately suggests it comes from Saint of the Church of Storms, indicating a certain background... Klein thought carefully and leaned towards choosing the White Agate.
He didn't rush to make a decision, but instead looked at the guard:
Do you know anything about the White Agate?
The guard immediately smiled.
"Sir, you have a good eye. The White Agate is Steam, but it retains sails and can reach a top speed of 16 knots."
"Moreover, the captain is highly experienced. He was once the Sailor of the Royal Navy, the HMS William V. No, he should be called the Royal Navy. The King has always claimed that he received the title of Emperor of Balam. Ha, in the Royal Navy, no matter how outstanding or excellent an ordinary person is, they can at most become Sailor, not an officer, unless, unless you can satisfy your superior, by any means necessary! Only then can you be recommended to the Pritz Naval Academy to become a reserve officer!"
"That's how Elland was forced to leave the Navy, join the White Agate, and gradually become its captain."
"I suggest you choose first class. That way you'll have a room that can sleep three or four servants, waiters who have received etiquette training, a designated chef with excellent cooking skills, a quiet restaurant with a view, a private room for smoking cigars, and a place to gather and play cards..."
Seeing how detailed the guard's explanation was, Klein couldn't help but feel a little suspicious.
Noticing his expression, the guard chuckled awkwardly:
" Elland used to be my boss. He would often buy me drinks and ask me to help him promote first-class tickets, but you can rest assured, everything I say is true!"
This isn't a question of whether it's true or not, it's a question of money... Klein muttered to himself silently.
He had already made his decision, and after careful consideration, he asked again:
"Sir, what advice do you have for a sea adventurer?"
To better fit the identity of Gehrman Sparrow, Klein had previously made minor adjustments to his image, making himself appear more aloof and sharp.
"An adventurer?" The guard unconsciously raised his voice.
Many people in the ticket queue turned their heads upon hearing the sound and turned their gazes toward Klein.
Driven by his Spirituality intuition, Klein instinctively followed a line of sight.
He saw a man in his thirties wearing a black top hat. The man had a rugged face, weathered features, a strong but not particularly tall build, and Blue Eyes that seemed to have seen a lot in life.
"An adventurer too?" Klein and the man's eyes met briefly before they looked away.
At this moment, the guard forced a smile and said:
"Sorry, I'm being a bit too harsh with the term 'adventurer.' In my mind, it's synonymous with outlaws, sea villains, and traitors. No, I'm not talking about you."
"Sincere advice? Well, you should remember three things."
First, don't provoke pirates; second, don't provoke pirates; third, still don't provoke pirates!
"Unless you're from the navy or the church, don't antagonize pirates!"
"Um... don't be fooled by the enthusiasm of those girls on the island. They're either pirates or want you to take them to Pritz, to Backlund. It's not entirely their fault. Many Sailor, crew members, and passengers, in order to deceive them, paint a very alluring picture of the metropolis and an exceptionally wonderful life, and then kick them off their beds and abandon them where they were."
What a wicked bunch... In this era, people who make a living at sea aren't exactly kind either... Is the order at sea really that bad? How can pirates be so rampant? Klein nodded and said:
"Thank you, I understand what to do."
After saying this, he walked towards the line with the fewest people.
The guard shouted from behind him:
"Also, most of the legends about treasures at sea are fake!"
After buying a second-class ticket for the White Agate, Klein returned to the hotel and patiently waited for night to fall.
During this time, he enjoyed the most famous fried fish in Pritz Harbor and thought it tasted pretty good, but he definitely couldn't stand eating it all the time.
As it approached 8 o'clock, he entered the Gray Fog, holding the badge from Lanarvus in one hand and writing the corresponding sentence with the other:
"The situation at this gathering."
Tick-tock, tick-tock, when the pocket watch reached the predetermined 8 o'clock position, he closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair, and began to repeatedly recite the Divination phrases.
He had reason to believe that when the door to the gathering "opened," he, with his positioning badge, would be able to use the medium above the Gray Fog to Divination something!
The previous failures were because nothing had happened yet, but this time it's different; things are happening, and Klein has the right medium!
Soon, Klein entered that hazy, dreamlike world.
He saw the quietly flowing Tussock River, the wide valley flanking it, and a dozen people in different locations, enveloped in a faint light, disappearing from their spots in a blur or an illusion.
One of them, with black hair and green eyes, was quite good-looking and clearly an acquaintance of Klein's.
Leonard Mitchell!