Bam!
The bartender fell to the ground, writhing in pain.
White Shark Hamilton snorted and didn't say anything. He turned around and walked towards the second floor, stepping on the creaking wooden stairs.
After the excitement was over, the drunkards dispersed one by one. Unaffected, Captain Elland and the others returned upstairs to continue playing cards.
Klein took the opportunity to follow.
He returned to Flying Fish & Wine, not to deal with White Shark who didn't pose any threat to him but rather to simply get more information from the owner of the bar, who was connected to many pirate factions. After all, he had named his new identity Gehrman, which secretly implied hunting pirates whose hands were stained with blood. He planned on using their souls, flesh, and Beyonder characteristics to replace the souls in Creeping Hunger who were awaiting their release.
There was no gas in Damir Harbor, and the corridor on the second floor was relatively dark. The brass candle stands that were inlaid into each wall flickered and dimmed.
Klein observed the surroundings as he wiped his face, silently transforming into one of the bouncers on the first floor.
He used Illusion Creation to compensate for his mismatched attire.
After finishing his preparations, he walked towards the room that his spiritual intuition identified as belonging to White Shark Hamilton.
He first passed the card room, but he didn't attract anyone's attention.
He stopped in front of the bouncers who were guarding the corridor and said in a low voice, "There's something going on downstairs again."
"Holy Lord of Storms, what's happening tonight?" A bouncer sighed.
"I hope those beautiful people don't get hurt," another guard said worriedly.
He was referring to the whores who got their business in the bar.
"They're fine." Klein stepped past the bouncers and knocked on White Shark's door.
"Who is it?" Hamilton warily asked.
"Boss, it's me. Something happened downstairs again!" Klein remembered the information he gleaned while watching the commotion and deliberately hoarsened his voice.
"Damn it!" Hamilton bellowed, "Come in and explain to me what happened!"
Klein turned the doorknob and walked in.
When he closed the door, he dispelled the illusion, and the muscles on his face rapidly squirmed, returning to his previous identity—a new customer with blond hair, blue eyes, and ordinary facial features.
"You..." Hamilton was stunned for a moment before he immediately opened his mouth wide in an attempt to shout loudly.
At the same time, many illusory fish scales surfaced on the back of his hand, his originally large and fat body burgeoning.
Suddenly, his heart began to beat faster, and a strong instinctive fear seized him by the throat.
At this moment, he felt that the stranger standing by the door was a demon that had been starved for many days, repeatedly examining his flesh and soul with an ice-cold, craving look in his eyes.
All of a sudden, White Shark Hamilton was gripped by an extreme panic, and he failed to effectively respond.
Klein slowly walked to the sofa and sat down. He politely smiled.
"Now, can we talk calmly?"
The feeling of being stared at by a horrifying monster suddenly disappeared. Hamilton relaxed all of a sudden while his body shriveled up a lot like a punctured balloon.
He didn't rashly cry for help as he asked with beads of sweat lining his forehead, "Who are you? What do you want?"
"A hunter," Klein answered casually, "I heard that you're connected to a number of pirate factions. I would like to know their respective situations."
"No, I'm not..." White Shark Hamilton subconsciously denied.
He immediately felt the extreme hunger again, and he felt as if the man's eyes were dyed with a dark red layer.
Klein inwardly deliberated over his persona and said with a gentlemanly smile, "You have two choices.
"One is to answer frankly. The second is to be killed by me and then answer honestly."
Killing to channel my spirit? White Shark Hamilton had heard of similar rumors. He swallowed hard and asked, "Why do you want to know about any of this?"
Klein smiled and answered, "I'm a hunter, so I'm chasing after bounties."
Hamilton suddenly felt that the man's polite smile was tinged with an indescribable madness, and he couldn't help but blurt out, "Are... Are you mad?
"I've seen many similar adventurers, but all of them have been buried at the bottom of the sea!
"It's not hard to kill a lone pirate, but can you defend against any further retaliation? The whores in the bar or the seemingly ordinary customers might all be pirate informants! Your friendly accomplice could be bribed at any moment and you'll be shot in the back! The pirates will gather information in advance and surround your ship. Can you protect all the passengers? Can you survive a cannon bombardment? On the sea where there's no room to run, how are you going to survive?"
After venting the horror in his heart in one breath, he saw the man, who called himself a hunter, reveal a gentle and kind smile.
"Just have them all killed, and then there won't be such a problem."
A true madman... White Shark Hamilton immediately took a deep breath and said, "I'm in contact with many pirates, but it's a passive relationship. They need to sell the cash, jewelry, and goods that they plundered in exchange for alcohol, food, fresh water, weapons, and women's comfort. This has to happen through me, but I can only wait here for them. I don't know where their ships pass or where they're going."
"What else?" Klein asked calmly.
His reply just now was mainly to scare White Shark. As for having revenge sought on him by the pirates, he wasn't worried at all. As a Faceless, he might as well find a place to drown himself at the bottom of the sea if they could find him so easily.
And... White Shark Hamilton's throat moved, without immediately giving an affirmative or negative description.
He tightly closed his mouth and looked at the gentleman in the half top hat. The gentleman's eyes were calm and reserved, as though madness was brewing within him.
The uneasy silence was like the calm sea surface before a storm, gently resounding, colliding, and fermenting.
Finally, Hamilton shifted his gaze away and placed his hand on the desk in frustration.
"Yes, I'm still gathering information for them. If there's any urgent information, I'll use the radio transceiver they gave me to alert them."
White Shark didn't dare to take the risk and was afraid that the man possessed unique Beyonder powers that could determine if he was speaking the truth or if he was saying the whole truth.
"Radio transceiver?" Klein, who had succeeded in laying his bets, sharply caught onto a noun.
"That's what they call it when speaking to me. It's like a telegram, but it doesn't require a wire." Hamilton turned and walked over to the gray safe and squatted down.
A wireless telegraph? The pirates possess such advanced technology? Klein could vaguely guess what the radio transceiver was.
He had previously thought of inventing something like this, but when he flipped through relevant magazines, he realized that wireless telegrams had long since appeared. However, it hadn't found its place in the commercial world. The Berserk Sea, which separated the Northern and Southern Continents with its constant thunder and lightning, the chaotic magnetic field, and violent storms, made only a few sea routes accessible. Even if one was equipped with wireless telegraphs, they were almost useless. Similarly, the weather in the Fog Sea and the Sonia Sea had changed drastically, and there were a number of factors that affected electromagnetic transmission. The use of wireless telegrams had been severely restricted.
Could it be that there's an enhanced model that can solve some of those problems?Klein watched as White Shark pried open the floor plank in front of the safe and twisted a mechanism to reveal a secret door in the wall.
Behind the secret door was a hidden cabinet with three levels. On the top level were some documents and bills, a revolver, a new type of half-arm gun, and other weapons, while the bottom layer was filled with complicated black machinery.
With just a glance, Klein deduced from his previous life's impression and the information he had gathered previously, that the mechanical construct belonged to a radio transceiver.
"That's what they call it. It's called a radio transceiver. The news it transmits can be received by similar items as far as the Rorsted Archipelago. Any further and it'll depend on the weather and one's luck. Usually, it's very troublesome and limited." Hamilton didn't know much about the machine, and he was vaguely describing the corresponding situation based on his experiences using it and what he had been taught.
It's better than the new radio transceivers that are now being commercialized... I wonder who invented it... Klein quietly listened and asked, "Who are they?"
He made himself look like a bounty hunter who didn't understand technology.
White Shark Hamilton wiped the cold sweat off his forehead and said, "Silver Coin Viper Oder who claims to serve the owner of the Dawn, as well as the intelligence officer of Admiral of Blood, Old Quinn. They appeared together, and I can't be certain if they're working together. Of course, Oder has always only made claims."
The owner of the Dawn, that Queen Mystic? Klein looked away, a gold coin appearing in his hand.
The gold coin kept weaving between his fingers before finally leaping into the air and landing. It left White Shark puzzled as he trembled in fear and trepidation.
Lowering his head to take a glance, Klein slowly stood up.
At this moment, he suddenly asked, "Who gave you the potion?"
"O-Old Quinn..." Hamilton hesitated but still chose to answer honestly.
Klein nodded and no longer asked. He turned and walked towards the door.
Thud! The wooden door opened and closed. The figure wearing a black coat disappeared from White Shark's room.
Hamilton held his breath, waited for more than ten seconds, and finally let out a long sigh.
He quickly wiped the sweat from his face, placed the radio receiver on the desk, flipped through a codebook, and hurriedly sent a telegram into the distance:
"I was targeted!
"By an unfamiliar fellow!"
Beside the completely engrossed Hamilton, Klein had his hands in his pockets as he quietly watched, taking in the entire frequency spectrum and the passcodes.
His departure just now was just a large-scale magic show, more than enough to deal with a Low-Sequence Beyonder like White Shark's Sailor pathway.
As for the question of whether or not he would be able to remember the details later, a Seer didn't need to worry over it. A dream divination was enough to recall everything.
Admiral of Blood and his men enjoy killing and love blood. They're passionate about enacting violence against women. Every time they rob a passenger ship, they would always cause a tragedy... This is public information known by everyone, and they themselves were proud of it. They're never stingy with their proclamations... The target of the hunt and the risk involved—
I'll give priority to them... Klein thought for a moment and then prepared to leave the room while Hamilton tidied and put away the radio transceiver.
He didn't plan on dealing with White Shark for the time being, as he was afraid of disturbing the real prey. Anyways, this kind of fellow who was on land with a fixed territory could be easily dealt with in a letter later since he had dirt on him.
Klein's soundless footsteps caused the door to slowly open and then quietly close, bringing in a slight cool breeze.
