When William woke up again, Crow still hadn't returned to his cabin. He didn't care and instead went to find Hutchinson, the old pirate who had shown him around the ship the day before. Together, they busied themselves with various tasks aboard the ship.
Life at sea was monotonous. Handling the sails was a demanding and tedious job that required constant attention and adjustment to harness the capricious winds. Additionally, to prevent outbreaks of disease, the ship's hygiene had to be maintained, making the daily chore of scrubbing the deck with seawater a necessity.
As William scrubbed the deck, he intentionally bragged to Hutchinson and the nearby pirates about his confrontation with Crow in the cabin, describing it in a way that made him appear triumphant.
The group of old pirates confirmed Crow's poor reputation aboard the ship. When they heard William claim that Crow had "fled in disgrace," they burst into collective laughter.
After the laughter subsided, Hutchinson, his red, bulbous nose gleaming, took a swig from a copper flask he pulled from his coat. He passed it to his companions before turning to William with a kind warning:
"You shouldn't be so reckless. You're new here and don't understand a lot about this ship."
When the flask finally made its way to William, he didn't hesitate. Grabbing it confidently, he took a deep gulp, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and said nonchalantly, "Don't worry. He's no match for me."
An older pirate laughed and said, "Hutchinson's not worried you'll lose. He's worried that if you two clash, the captain will side with him."
Feigning confusion, William asked, "Why? Is he the captain's confidant?"
"More than that," another pirate sneered. "He's the captain's loyal dog. He keeps an eye on everyone aboard and ensures every bit of loot gets tallied under his watch, like he's afraid someone will take the captain's share."
Another pirate added, "He might not even be the captain's dog. He doesn't seem as trusted as the first mate or Mr. Hayreddin."
William blinked. It seemed not everyone aboard was clueless. Though only a few, like the Redbeard Brothers, knew Crow's true nature, others speculated he might be a spy planted by another faction. However, they didn't know who he truly worked for.
Regardless, this didn't change the pirates' attitude toward Crow. It wasn't about his personality or behavior but pure self-interest.
Every piece of loot came at the cost of their blood or their comrades'. Pirates weren't idealistic heroes of boyhood stories but hardened individuals living perilous lives, driven by nothing but wealth.
Short-sighted, they didn't grasp the importance of intelligence or logistics. They only saw the unfairness of someone claiming a large share of their hard-fought spoils.
"Alright, enough talk," Hutchinson said as he noticed the first mate, Reyes, approaching from a distance. He quickly stowed the flask and urged everyone, including William, to get back to work. Before parting, he gave one last piece of advice:
"Doesn't matter whose dog he is. His master isn't someone we can afford to cross. Next time, don't act so rashly, Stolt."
At Maple Leaf Village, a modest merchant ship docked at the pier. Sherlock, looking a bit haggard, disembarked and immediately spotted Edmund and Aramis waiting for him. Though the dock was bustling, the area around the two was conspicuously clear of people.
Seeing Sherlock approach, Edmund and Aramis stepped forward to greet him.
Sherlock carried a leather suitcase. Aramis, noticing his fatigue, offered to carry it for him, but Sherlock politely declined.
Aramis didn't press further and said, "I've already arranged accommodations with Tony."
Sherlock nodded in thanks, too tired to speak.
After taking a life, Sherlock had left his family's headquarters without hesitation. But that didn't mean he abandoned all his wealth.
As the saying goes, "A cunning rabbit has three burrows." Living in a society plagued by pirates, merchants understood this principle better than anyone. Concentrating all wealth in one location meant risking everything to a single raid.
The Golden Merchant Guild had amassed considerable wealth over generations. While Sherlock had to forgo the business assets tied to the Kingdom of Navia, he wasn't about to let cash, antiques, and other portable treasures fall into the hands of his enemies.
Taking advantage of the time before Arcadio received word—or reacted—Sherlock had been busy relocating assets. Though the rushed process incurred losses, he had no choice but to prioritize speed. Now, having finally wrapped up loose ends, he could afford a brief rest.
Following Aramis and Edmund to a small courtyard prepared in advance, Sherlock showed little interest in his surroundings. The moment he saw the soft bed in the bedroom, he collapsed onto it, unable to resist sleep. Soon, the sound of snoring filled the room.
Exchanging a glance, Edmund and Aramis quietly left the room, shutting the door behind them.
Sherlock slept until the next morning, waking up from hunger. Pushing open the bedroom door, he found Edmund and Aramis in the living room, eating breakfast.
Sherlock had heard about the tension between the two following Valon's death, but now, they seemed more mature, no longer as hostile as before.
Seeing him, Edmund smiled and pointed to an extra plate of food on the table. "Knew you'd be hungry."
After a night's rest, Sherlock looked much better. Thanking them, he sat down, pulled the plate closer, and with a wry smile, said, "Right now, I really..."
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