The island of Isla de los Perdidos loomed large as The Abyss approached, its jagged cliffs and dense jungle a stark contrast to the open ocean they had left behind. The island was notorious among pirates—a haven for outlaws, a place where the law had no hold and where the strong thrived while the weak perished. It was a place of opportunity and danger in equal measure, and Jacob knew that his new responsibilities as boatswain would be tested here like never before.
As The Abyss dropped anchor in the sheltered bay, Jacob was summoned to the quarterdeck, where Captain Rourke and Elias were already deep in conversation. The captain's eyes narrowed as Jacob approached, his expression unreadable.
"Boatswain," Captain Rourke began, his voice carrying the authority of his rank. "We're making port, and I want you to manage the crew rotation. Decide who stays on the ship and who can disembark. We can't leave the ship unguarded, but the men will need time ashore."
Jacob nodded, understanding the gravity of the task. The crew was restless after weeks at sea, and Isla de los Perdidos was a temptation that few could resist. But he also knew that leaving the ship vulnerable could spell disaster—rival crews, thieves, and worse would be all too eager to take advantage of any lapse in security.
"I'll handle it," Jacob replied, his voice steady.
As he walked away from the quarterdeck, Jacob felt a strange sense of calm settle over him. It was a sensation he had grown accustomed to in recent days, one that should have unnerved him more than it did. By all rights, he should be freaking out—here he was, in a world completely alien to him, navigating the treacherous waters of pirate life with a cursed system whispering in his mind. But instead, he felt… steady. Focused.
Jacob knew that part of it was the system's influence, its cold logic guiding his actions and dulling the fear that might have otherwise consumed him. But there was more to it than that. His previous life—the training, the discipline, the constant pressure—had prepared him for this in ways he hadn't fully appreciated until now. He had been a soldier before, and that part of him had survived the transition to this world. The constant need to be alert, to make decisions under pressure, to lead others in the face of danger—it was familiar, almost comforting in its own brutal way.
As he made his way to the main deck, where the crew was already abuzz with anticipation, Jacob found himself reflecting on how similar this pirate crew was to the units he had served with in his past life. Sure, the conflict resolution was bloodier, the stakes more raw, but the fundamentals were the same. A group of men, bound together by necessity, driven by the promise of reward and survival, each one looking to the leader for guidance and protection.
"Listen up!" Jacob called, his voice cutting through the chatter. "We're making port, but we can't leave the ship unguarded. I'll be assigning a rotation—some of you will stay on board, while the rest can take shifts on the island. No arguments, and no trouble."
There was a murmur of agreement from some of the crew, but Jacob could see that not everyone was pleased. A few of the men exchanged uneasy glances, and one in particular—Jeb, a burly sailor who had never quite warmed to Jacob—stepped forward, his expression sour.
"And who made you the boss of us, eh?" Jeb sneered, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. "Just because the captain gave you a fancy title doesn't mean you get to order us around."
Jacob met Jeb's glare without flinching. He had expected resistance, especially from men like Jeb who were quick to question authority. But he also knew that he couldn't back down—not here, not now.
"The captain did," Jacob replied evenly, his tone firm. "And if you've got a problem with that, you can take it up with him. But until then, you'll follow my orders, or you can stay on the ship for the whole port call."
Jeb bristled, his fists clenching at his sides. For a moment, it seemed like the situation might escalate, but then Garrett, the grizzled veteran who had spoken with Jacob earlier, stepped forward.
"He's right, Jeb," Garrett said, his voice calm but authoritative. "We're all tired, and we all want some time ashore. But someone's gotta stay on board, and the boatswain's got the final say. Let's not make this harder than it needs to be."
Jeb hesitated, his eyes flicking between Garrett and Jacob. Finally, he grumbled something under his breath and backed down, retreating to the rest of the crew. The tension eased slightly, and Jacob felt a surge of relief—he had passed the first test, but he knew there would be more to come.
He quickly organized the rotation, assigning half of the crew to stay on board while the other half could disembark in shifts. It was a fair arrangement, but Jacob could see the frustration on the faces of some of the men who had to stay behind. He made a mental note to keep an eye on them—discontent had a way of festering, especially in a place as volatile as Isla de los Perdidos.
As the first group of men disembarked, Jacob watched from the deck, his mind already turning to the next challenge. The island was a dangerous place, and he needed to ensure that the crew remained disciplined and focused, even as they enjoyed their time ashore.
He couldn't help but draw another comparison to his past life. In the military, shore leave was both a blessing and a curse. It was a chance to blow off steam, to forget the horrors of combat for a little while—but it also brought with it the risk of men letting their guard down, getting into trouble, or worse. Jacob had seen it happen before, and he knew that here, in a lawless place like Isla de los Perdidos, the risks were even greater.
But he also knew that keeping the men busy, giving them a sense of purpose, was the best way to keep that trouble at bay. It was easier to put up with the hardships of life at sea when you had something to do, something to focus on. That was true in the military, and it was true here. Idle hands, as they said, were the devil's workshop.
But he also knew that he had another task—one that had been nagging at the back of his mind ever since his promotion. He needed to learn more about this world, to understand whether he was still on Earth or in some other realm entirely. The navigator's words had only deepened his curiosity, and he was determined to find answers.
For now, though, he had to focus on his duties. The crew was counting on him, and the captain was watching. Jacob took a deep breath, steeling himself for the challenges ahead. Isla de los Perdidos was a place of opportunity, but it was also a place where a man could lose everything—his ship, his crew, and his life—if he wasn't careful.
Jacob intended to leave the island with all three intact.