Krolo had lost face before the entire pirate crew, yet Barbarossa merely consoled him rather than reprimanding Hailadin, even in appearance.
Barbarossa, unlike the stereotypical irate and impulsive pirate captains of legend, wasn't a humble and open-minded leader either. He was a pirate—just a pirate—and had little interest in safeguarding Krolo's pride.
If Barbarossa had ever wanted to curb Hailadin's unruly temper, he would have punished the troublemaker long ago. Krolo was no exception to this rule.
Krolo had no choice but to swallow his humiliation and suppress any overt resentment, for displaying hostility would only bring him more trouble.
After drifting on the sea for a long while, the ship finally docked.
Near the capital city of Navia Kingdom, Kalmar City, the Redbeard Pirates furled their flag and carefully navigated through the reefs under the cover of night. Aided by the sea breeze, they slipped into a concealed private harbor, dropping their heavy anchor.
In the darkness, the faint outline of a dock was visible. Rays led a group of seasoned pirates ashore. Shortly after, several torches ignited, piercing the night's gloom.
By the flickering light, William surveyed his surroundings. The private harbor was rudimentary but nestled in a natural cove encircled by rocky hills, providing both concealment and shelter from storms. Its proximity to Kalmar City made it strategically valuable, with a small hill at the entrance serving as a lookout post.
The only downside was the limited space, as the harbor's infrastructure was minimal and crude.
The Redbeard Pirates regularly stayed near Kalmar City, partly to let their battle-hardened crew enjoy urban comforts and partly to resupply.
While food and water could be restocked from rural villages, weapons and ammunition could only be obtained here.
However, even a notorious group like the Redbeard Pirates couldn't act openly in the capital. Instead, they had to sneak into the city in disguise. Fortunately, they had a powerful ally within the city.
A simple warehouse by the dock served as temporary storage. The pirates hauled loot—like tea and tobacco, which they couldn't use—into the warehouse. Once finished, Barbarossa allowed them to enter the city in small groups for rest.
As a provisional navigator, William's elevated status earned him a spot in the first group to disembark.
After weeks at sea with only brief stops on desolate islands to replenish fresh water, even William, who wasn't as exuberant as the others, felt a sense of relief at the chance to rest on solid ground.
Once ashore, William wasn't alone. The cramped confines of the ship had fostered frequent interactions among the crew. Be it scrubbing the deck, eating, or even using the toilet, they were constantly in each other's company. This closeness made it easy for William to forge connections with his crewmates.
With decent skills and mastery of navigation—a critical talent on board—coupled with his seemingly straightforward and hearty demeanor, William was quite popular. This stood in stark contrast to Krolo, who wandered alone after disembarking.
Kalmar City, encircled by walls, had guarded gates. William worried briefly about entry, but a jangling bag of coins tossed by Rays to the gate guards ensured their passage.
Once inside, the pirates split into small groups, some singing, others loudly discussing plans to hire escorts for company. They quickly dispersed to indulge their pent-up energy.
A few older pirates invited William to join their revelry, but he politely declined with a feigned bashfulness.
In his previous life, William had been well-versed in worldly pleasures and felt a twinge of temptation. Yet, recalling the diseases sailors spread in the Age of Exploration, he quickly dismissed the thought. Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to.
William roamed the city alone, pretending to be aimless as he wandered through its streets and alleys. Occasionally, he would stop to ask locals for directions to random places, all the while carefully observing for signs of being followed.
Once certain he was alone, he strolled leisurely into a nondescript tavern. Scanning the hall and confirming there were no other Redbeard pirates present, he climbed the stairs to the second floor.
On the second floor, the doors were all shut. William glanced around before taking out a hidden Den Den Mushi he had kept with him, whispering, "I'm here."
At his words, a previously closed door creaked open. Without hesitation, William stepped inside.
Inside, Edmund peeked outside to ensure no one had followed, then shut the door, leaning against it to both block entry and eavesdroppers.
Sherlock and Aramis, seated at the table, rose simultaneously to greet William.
"William."
"Sherlock."
The two long-separated partners embraced briefly, while Aramis naturally pulled a chair up behind William.
Edmund, Aramis, and Sherlock seemed bold to be in Kalmar City, deep within enemy territory. Yet, upon reflection, their actions weren't as reckless as they appeared.
Though the city was under enemy control, the victors—flush with success—had likely dismissed William and his allies as irrelevant. From the ambush on Valon and Edmund to the present, time had dulled their adversaries' vigilance. The indifferent attitude of the Redbeard Pirates and city guards underscored this neglect.
For Edmund and his comrades, infiltrating Kalmar City was surprisingly easy. The clandestine meeting arrangement reflected William's cautious nature more than genuine necessity.
Once William sat, Sherlock eagerly began, "The Redbeard Pirates are connected to the Buendía family, particularly their patriarch, Arcadio."
William lit a cigarette and gestured for Sherlock to continue.
Sherlock elaborated, "The Buendía family is a noble house with a hundred-year legacy in Navia. Arcadio himself serves as the Minister of Finance and holds the title of Count, making him the foremost of the kingdom's four principal ministers."
"A big shot, huh?" William exhaled a ring of smoke, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
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