Black Sail
Chapter 412: XLVII. Words of Tigers and Wolves

Chapter 412: XLVII. Words of Tigers and Wolves

The night rain was ethereal, and the mist that pervaded the bay area made even the lights of Golden Palm Port, which shimmered with a thousand neons despite the downfall of the nation, gradually hazy.

The spotty glass windows revealed only a blurry scene, with the innumerable sounds of raindrops breaking emanating from outside.

In a concealed tea room, smoke curled around.

Swan, who always wore simple leather armor, made sure there were no ears on the other side of the wall before daring to whisper.

"I really can’t believe it."

Swan rarely smoked, unless faced with extremely difficult decisions. From his observation over the past half a year, he was a pure egoist.

It made sense for him to make such a choice, but what surprised him more was whether he had the courage to be unfazed, even when facing the most terrifying killers in the world, the Netherworld Envoys, who could invisibly erase all existence.

If it were anyone else, the Netherworld Envoy would effortlessly take on the role, but Liszt was truly too special.

Swan had some new judgments about Rein, perhaps his disabled body made him aware of something.

Rein didn’t have time to mourn for Liszt.

It was such a pity that such an exceptional person had died in such an unclear way.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake, even if the whole world considered him the traitor of the Starving Wolf Adventure Group, that didn’t matter; Rein didn’t give a damn about the world.

And neither did Black Sail.

It wasn’t that he disliked what was called "unjust," but rather he simply detested the "term" itself from years of use.

Rein had already informed Swan ahead of time that if something unfortunate happened to him, someone else was prepared to take care of the aftermath. Now it seemed that the impostor indeed became greedy for Black Sail’s many secrets, and she ended up being quite successful.

Rein would indeed teach her how to keep up the pretense.

He thought over all the candidates; in fact, telling Fen would have been most feasible, but with Fen absent, he had to seek out his followers.

Mika and Shadi wouldn’t work, both of them were quite close to Liszt. Not to mention Mika was a doctor, Shadi was also a hothead; these two had to be kept in the dark.

Haywood had absolute loyalty to Liszt and was also a foreigner, so he was out of the question.

Morison was unpredictable and could just as likely pack up and leave one day, which wouldn’t be surprising.

The others in Heaven Port didn’t even need to be mentioned.

"If Liszt is still alive, we will definitely get news before we leave Golden Palm Port. Otherwise, we’ll just have to go with the flow."

Rein judged so.

He understood Swan and also understood Fen.

Given Fen’s nature, if the time was right, he would... chop up Wolman, but Fen had no deep hatred with Aran. With Emperor’s support, that was definitely more reliable than anything else.

During the transition of power in Black Sail, seeking revenge for Liszt had to be put on hold.

That impostor was also a person with deep schemes; Rein made this point clear, and she trusted Rein temporarily because she was restrained by it.

"Is that so, so do you hope Liszt is faking his death, or really dead?"

Swan didn’t have much fondness for Liszt, apart from Claude; he was the last to come on board, purely a matter of interest.

Indeed, now even if Liszt was faking it, he couldn’t die.

Black Sail had so much investment, allies, the Seventh Amendment, Cangshan Tobacco Company, not to mention Liszt’s influence in Heaven Port.

It’d be endless trouble.

He at least had to live out the year. After the financial report stabilized in the third quarter, the Fourth Extremes, then he could die.

Hearing Swan’s somewhat provocative question, Rein gave a shockingly derisive cold laugh; if Liszt could live with his heart pierced through, there might still be some hope.

"We’re all murderers, desperados, what else can we say, each with our own strengths and weaknesses.

It’s better if he’s not dead, no need for so many damn issues, no need to seek revenge for him. We can all go to Hell together; I just might need to attend the continent Martial Arts Competition if I want to find that person."

The man was a member of the Imperial Guard, charged with protecting the Emperor, and was bound to the Royal Court for life, forbidden from stepping half a foot outside. And it was clear that Rein was not cut out to be an assassin, he could only initiate a duel when he had an audience with the Emperor.

Because the man’s death wouldn’t help matters, Rein needed him to confess in his own words, to proclaim to the world, to put an end to the old dreams of the plateau.

"If I die...

I’ll be playing the pitiful ghost wandering the edge of life and death, becoming a willing pawn for anyone who’ll have me, falling in battle before the Royal City, my blood splattering before the Golden Throne."

Rein also lit a cigarette with a matchstick, inhaling the smoke listlessly, everything was tedious, he was tired of living.

Swan pondered for a while, besides Morison and Ox, he had never seen the core members of the ship practice their skills; they were all rusty, and Rein even less so. He had never seen him train; he was just living off old glory, weakened by wine and women. Challenging the expert of the Imperial Guard to a duel? Wasn’t that just asking to be hanged and killed?

"Indeed it is."

Swan believed Rein was bound to be beaten by his enemies.

Rein fell silent, Liszt had passed away, and not even auspicious words were spoken.

"I can always take some drugs, right? Aran does like that sort of thing, damn Pyapan, and that Edmond you all speak of is pumped up with Life Alchemy. The Military Government is truly fucking dark."

Rein lamented. It was the Military Government—Murphys was nothing compared to the Emperor; these two could still be considered as tarred with the same brush. Wolman’s dream of restoring his country was likely unachievable within his lifetime; each generation has its own duties. Rein believed that at least for the next fifty years, Aran would stand firm.

"How did you coach that impostor?"

The opponent was likely a Netherworld Envoy, and it didn’t hurt for Swan to be extra cautious.

"I told him some old scores, helped him clarify some relationships. He himself is highly skilled in disguise, apart from the two of us, nobody else could possibly uncover him."

Rein said thus. At the moment, it was about delaying. If there were no word from Liszt himself before leaving Golden Palm Port, a letter should be written to Heaven Port to inform Fen.

Fen was the wisest person, as well as the most influential in Black Sail apart from Liszt, and the original First Officer, now second in command. He would handle the matter most steadily.

Swan nodded, maybe the Netherworld Envoy knew more about Diaz.

"After the power transition period is over, we’ll have to control that impostor, find someone else to play the part, or consider other methods."

Swan stated so.

"With all due respect, it’ll still be up to Brother Li to rest in peace. As for the matter of offering amnesty, it’s no longer up to him."

Rein finished off his cigarette in one breath and stubbed out the butt with his claw, having discussed enough.

"How did you come to know Fen?"

Rein had vouched for Swan to join the ship last year because of Fen, which seemed quite intriguing.

"I’ve helped chop down a few of his opponents in the Warlock Council, and a member of the Pedan Magic Energy Industrial Committee."

Swan spoke of these events, which took place before the misfortunes in Fen’s family—business commissions.

Even if those misfortunes hadn’t occurred in Fen’s family, he was still that kind of person. Frankly, to Swan, Fen was even colder than some folks in the Thief Guild.

Swan wouldn’t be surprised if Fen personally killed Liszt one day.

"Damn it... We must also keep it hidden from Celeste and her people... I’m leaving."

Rein got up to leave.

Suddenly, Swan made a silencing gesture, indicating someone was outside the door.

Rein was uncertain, was it that impostor?

However, the person outside had no intention of sneaking about, bursting directly through the door.

"Where’s everyone gone to? I haven’t even gotten on the carriage; where did they all go? You two are still here, been ashore for several days now?"

Archer stumbled in, groggily recalling that he had fallen asleep in the hammock, missing the strip club party.

"You should rest."

Rein and Swan said in unison; Liszt was fucking dead, yet he was still blabbering incoherently.