Marcel remembered that day as the day his life restarted. With nowhere to go, he turned pirate. He took the Rosibella and renamed her the Spectre. As for the leftovers from the battle with the Flying Dutchman, he decided to leave some remains right where they were. After a while, he decided to tie them to the bow as a grotesque figurehead. He felt that having them visible would give him the advantage if his prey attempted to engage in battle, which it did, and also got them out of the way. Whenever it failed, he often found himself having to take on the entire crew. He often found himself taking them out as well. Quite often as a matter of fact. It amused him when his opponents looked at him in terror as he pulled daggers out of his side or his chest with as much ease as a flowing stream with no obstacles to encounter. Those who were left alive were subject to even more violence that would make ones stomach churn. Sometimes, if he was feeling generous, Marcel would let the prisoners go free to tell about their hellish encounter with, whom they called, The Boogeyman. Marcel's plundering took him everywhere from the coasts of France to the seas of Japan, where Marcel's most unusual journey was to begin.
It was a chilly morning near the docks. Marcel had found a place to hide the Spectre and sneak onto dry land. He had wrapped a cloth around his face so no one would see his grotesque features. He had been hearing rumors of a lost treasure called the Cursed Hilt of Serbia. This was the hilt of a sword that was encrusted with countless amounts of rare gems set in solid gold. The quest to find it led to the end of so many unfortunate souls that it was claimed to be curse. Marcel knew about some of this story and disregarded all of it. His only interest was finding the unfindable. Marcel also knew that the infamous Anne Bonny knew where it was. He was to meet her in the izakaya, or bar, near the port of Nagoya. Marcel walked into the bar and was greeted with immediate silence. (Crap,) he thought. (act natural, fool, act natural.) He quietly made his way to the back where Anne Bonny sat, nursing some sake. "Well hello there, sailor. What's wrong?" she asked. "Have you a cold?" Marcel debated whether he should drop the cloth. "You know, I've heard about your looks but I doubt it's that terrible. Don't you think the cloth is a bit much?" Marcel slowly unraveled his mask and let it drop to the table. Bonny's eyes widened a bit. She had heard about his features but never believed that what she heard was so accurate. "Satisfied?" growled Marcel. "Without a doubt, sir." Came her reply. She pulled out a roll of paper and lay it on the table.
"You know there is a price for this, correct?"
"You said nothing of a price."
Anne Bonny tilted her head back and laughed. "That's the trouble with you French. You're so foolish with your doubloons that you're rich one day and a pauper the next. You run away from anything that requires payment!" Marcel slammed his fist on the table, startling everyone including Anne. "That's enough outa you," he grimaced. "Tell me the price and I'll pay it." Anne Bonny thought for a moment. "How about 200,000 pounds and not a penny less?"
"Done."
Anne giggled incredulously. "And where would you find money like that?" Marcel smiled. "Is it a deal?"
"Yes it's a deal."
"Good. Here is the receipt." He pulled out a piece of paper, already prepared for signing.
"Well, someone came prepared. No matter." Anne signed the paper. "And now the payment?" Marcel reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins and gems worth ten times the settled price. "Take it and get out." Anne smiled and greedily snatched up the treasure. "Have fun finding it, dead man." She left Marcel with his paper laughing all the way.
The next morning, Marcel was back on his ship. He rolled the paper out on his desk. It was blank except for one line in the center which read, "For Mr. Simpleton with all my affection and adoration, signed Anne Bonny". "Hell and damnation!!" Marcel tore up the document and threw it overboard. If he couldn't buy the directions to wealth, he would have to search for it himself. He got out his charts and navigation tools and worked for days. Finally, after weeks of frustration, he figured out that the Hilt of Serbia would likely be near Italy because of the hilt's description. It was made for a Serbian prince about 100 years ago, but was actually created somewhere in Italy. Most of the hilt's details matched with designs that went with the Sicilian nobility and higher society. Marcel figured that the most logical place to hide treasure in Italy was Vulcano. He grabbed his compass and set his corse for the island.