Pirate Kingship
Chapter 68 - 67: Loyalty that is not absolute is absolutely not loyalty.

Chapter 68: Chapter 67: Loyalty that is not absolute is absolutely not loyalty.

Privateering Alliance anchorage.

Night enshrouded the sea, and the lengthy nineteen-hour nights were themselves breeding grounds for chaos. This was especially true for pirates, a group inherently prone to unrest.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

"Mercy, mercy! Mr. Bill, we won’t dare do it again."

"Executioner, stop hitting us! It’s all because the Captain forbade going ashore—we heard the sound of dice in the gambling house, we truly couldn’t control our gambling addiction!"

On the deck of the Goddess of Vengeance, four sailors were bound bare-chested to the ropes, swaying in the piercing cold wind. A tall, stern-looking pirate officer was fiercely whipping them with a cat-o’-nine-tails until they were covered in blood, screaming in agony.

It was none other than Bill, the Executioner, who yesterday had led the Fleet squadron to conduct the Black Mass ritual. He was already in a foul mood from the loss of the ship Rainbow and two precious octopus silver coins during the mission. Consequently, Bill’s whipping hand gained extra force when he heard the four unlucky pirates not only failing to admit their fault but daring to make excuses.

Swearing as he whipped:

"You scoundrels dare to argue? Do you think I’m punishing you because of your gambling?

Goddess of Vengeance Pirate’s Ten Commandments, Rule Five: He who fights another aboard shall receive the Law of Moses—forty lashes.

Rule Six: He who breaks weapons, or he who lights a candle without a lantern cover, the same punishment!

You four lit candles to gamble, failing to cover them with lanterns, leading to a brawl when losers refused to pay up. And you dare say you don’t deserve punishment?!"

Naked flames could easily ignite the wooden sailing ship, and many pirate ships prohibited women and gambling onboard to prevent discord and armed fights. If such a mutiny were to break out on board, they’d have nowhere to run.

These men were indeed rightly punished.

"Loyalty that’s not absolute is absolute disloyalty. I, Executioner Bill, will not tolerate anything that endangers the Goddess of Vengeance, or harms the interests of Captain Red Beard!"

The lashes from a cat-o’-nine-tails were equivalent to nine with each stroke, and after dozens of lashes, all four of the crew were nearly unconscious.

Other pirates watching onboard felt a kinship with the punished men, but also harbored veiled dissatisfaction when looking at Bill, the one responsible for the punishment.

Some even muttered under their breath:

"Puts on airs, that damned Navy man!

If he’s so mighty, why doesn’t he stay away from piracy? Bringing all that military crap onto a pirate ship."

"Exactly! Forty lashes are the rule, but a lighter touch is common decency. You’d think this Navy guy has some deep grudge against us brothers."

Bill, as a Squire Level First Order Transcendent, was naturally sharp of hearing and sight. Hearing those sarcastic insults, a muscle in his cheek twitched slightly, but he continued the punishment as if he hadn’t heard anything.

What the pirates said wasn’t entirely wrong—he was indeed former Navy.

It is well known that the living conditions of lower-deck sailors were incredibly harsh, with food, water, sanitation, rest... even worse than that of prisoners on land. But what many don’t realize is that compared to merchant sailors, the lives of Navy sailors were actually even more miserable. They not only were continually embroiled in various dangerous wars, but their pay was paltry, typically half of what merchant sailors earned, and often delayed by the military authorities.

The Navy’s punishments were particularly horrific as well. Even the ruthless Bloody Eye Salman, who deliberately set traps in the Pirate’s Ten Commandments to kill crew members, usually did not mistreat his crew. But such brutality was common on naval ships. Navy officers treated lower-deck sailors with extreme brutality, frequently flogging those who made minor mistakes to death or maiming. Navies were also the only organizations that could legally and outright elevate ordinary punishments to the death penalty—executions for insubordination were all too commonplace.

Thus, even maritime powers with bustling oceanic activities couldn’t ensure their Navy sailors were always at full strength. The rates of mental illness among naval sailors were also alarmingly high, necessitating the presence of chaplains to provide counsel.

More paradoxically, compared to merchant ships and Navies, pirate ships that observed the Pirate Code were fairer and more democratic towards their crew, treating them as the rightful stewards of the ship. Piracy also became the redemption for many low-ranking sailors. It was not uncommon for sailors from the Navy and merchant ships to seize the opportunity to flee to pirate ships.

Though it sounds somewhat unbelievable and against common sense, this was the reality on the open sea.

Byron, disguised as an ordinary pirate using Psychological Disguise Technique, hid among the onlooking crowd to watch the drama unfold, naturally overhearing the sailors’ discussions. At a glance, his Echoes of History revealed that the speakers were all former Navy soldiers.

He nodded to himself in agreement. If Bill had been just a regular former Navy soldier, he wouldn’t have provoked such great hostility among the crew. Unfortunately, he used to be a Navy officer who played the role of the oppressor, and that label can never be washed away. Of course, the Navy’s dark history could never be cleansed either.

As a former quasi-senior official, he also knew that under Hightins’ wartime status, dodging Navy conscription required a fine of 10 gold pounds, equivalent to the annual income of an ordinary person without food or drink. Every time this happened, the gentlemen of the Navy Department’s Military Commission would... see their net worth soar! Where the money came from was no mystery. After all, they never had any intention of improving the sailors’ conditions.

And in the intelligence that Byron collected in advance through Omnitrix, Bill was not only an officer but also an Executioner of the Tribunal Sequence, with hands stained by the blood of countless pirates and Navy soldiers. After a defeat and subsequent capture, he joined under Redbeard Edward with zealous fervor, displaying a loyalty far exceeding that of most pirates. He was quickly trusted by Red Beard and continued to be appointed as the Executioner onboard the Goddess of Vengeance.

He always had a signature motto on his lips, "Loyalty that’s not absolute is absolute disloyalty!"

He meticulously enforced the Pirate’s Ten Commandments set by Red Beard, never showing any mercy. Before long, he had turned himself into a solitary figure.

Ordinary pirates might not understand why this odd combination worked so well together. But Byron was very clear about the inner workings. To give an analogy, in the Transcendent System of the Law, if Red Beard was responsible for shouting, "Court is in session," then Bill was responsible for shouting, "All rise!" Only if Red Beard became the Military Governor of the Captains’ Parliament, or even used it as a stepping stone to become the new Pirate King of the North Sea, would the latter have greater power to dispense justice everywhere. He could even become a Middle Sequence Transcendent by attaching himself to the Pirate King!

For him, it was not just about vested interests; even his fundamental Transcendent path was forcibly bound. Bill, the Executioner, must be one of those in the Privateering Alliance who truly and earnestly hoped for Red Beard’s successful ascension. And a Great Pirate with aspirations to be a Pirate Warlord, even the Pirate King, also needed such a tool: someone who was not afraid to offend anyone and would perfectly execute his will. The two were truly in mutual pursuit.

There was no problem at all in labeling him as the confidant of the Captain. Such a person, with extremely simple interpersonal relationships, being targeted by both Omnitrix Franklin and Byron, was entirely expected.

After a full half hour, the four men had received their forty lashes each without any discount. Executioner Bill, feeling his Spirituality had grown slightly, coldly dropped a statement:

"Get lost! Next time you offend, you won’t be so lucky."

He turned and walked down the gangway, boarding another pirate ship under his command.

The other pirates scattered, with no one greeting the Executioner from start to finish. Some were even determined to report him to the Captain; even if it wasn’t very useful, it would be good to annoy the man.

Executioner Bill, with a cold face, entered his private cabin. No sooner had he shut the door than he turned around and was startled to find a stranger sitting behind his desk, flipping with great interest through his Sailing Logbook.

On the corner of the desk lay a Whalebone Talisman of Silence.

Bill was instantly overcome with shock and fury, and he shouted harshly, "Who let you in here? Kneel, sinner!"