It's been a week since my team joined the Fang fleet. During our stay, I got acquainted with the rules, tasks, and current goals of Fung. Fang was ambitious and had heard of the pirate forces in the New World. He wanted to gain strength and a fleet in the Old World, and then use his accumulated strength to occupy his niche.
Using divination, I found out the reason for his defeat. He won't be able to stay on this island for a long time. This means that I have to fit my plans into this deadline. Besides that, I need to figure out where to get a mermaid. There is a chance to get her as a slave on Sabaody, and you will have to fight your way to Fishman Island with caution, given that there should be a gang of new pirates there now.
My eyes narrowed in heavy thought. After a while, I remembered a mermaid named Kokoro. You can try to perform a ritual in the presence of this "beautiful maiden." The most important thing is to persuade her. Indeed, I can come up with the idea that we need more ships to cross, in which case I will be able to sail to Water 7 by ordering ships, and at the same time I will try to persuade Kokoro to sing for my ritual.
The return to Nemea Island took place without much delay. I stood at the stern, watching the horizon. The strength of the wind and the current accelerated our journey, and soon the coastlines of the island began to take shape against the background of the setting sun. Gradually, signs of neglect began to appear: the pier was littered with garbage, local fishermen barely looked out of their huts, and several pirates were lying on the beach in a drunken stupor.
"Rex, shall we dock?" One of my subordinates asked.
I nodded silently, watching the crew prepare to dock.
When we went ashore, I ordered people to repair the ship and replenish supplies. As always, their joy at returning to dry land was accompanied by a bit of discontent at my orders. I noticed their behavior, but decided not to interfere, so as not to upset the created balance.
On the way to the main building, I noticed an increase in chaos: the shops were empty, and several houses looked as if they had been looted. The villagers avoided direct gaze and hurriedly shut down their business when the pirates approached.
The administrative building on the island, the former headquarters of the Marine Patrol, is now completely occupied by pirates. The entrance was guarded by two thugs, who lazily waved away when they noticed me.
There was a mess inside: several pirates were drinking, someone was lying unconscious, and in the corner there was an argument over a treasure map.
In the main hall, Fang was sitting in a huge armchair, surrounded by pirates who were clearly trying to please his mood. He sipped his rum lazily, occasionally exchanging sarcastic remarks with others.
— Rex! Fang exclaimed when he saw me. His voice sounded loud and casual, as if he had just found something to be amused about. "You're on time. There's a problem here.
I bowed slightly, responding in the even tone that the image demanded.:
"What happened, Captain?"
Fang leaned forward, his smile replaced by an expression of annoyance.
—The locals... those rats! He clenched his fist. — Trade has almost stopped, there are few provisions. Someone is sabotaging it. I think one of the merchants made a fuss.
—And what are your orders?" I asked.
Fang leaned back, contemplating the ceiling thoughtfully.
"Settle this. I don't need to know how. Only the result.
I nodded, accepting the assignment.
It amused me a little how Fang enjoyed his power. His manner of giving orders was more like requests disguised as demands. He beckoned to the nearest pirates with a wave of his hand, and they hurried to please him, like children afraid of being punished.
"And one more thing, Rex,— he added, waving off some inappropriate remark from one of his subordinates. — If you find someone who is stirring up trouble, bring him here. Let's make a spectacle. People love spectacles.
"Of course, Captain," I replied dryly.
Fang was pleased. He leaned back, hugging one of the girls, whispering something in her ear. As if on cue, she laughed, although there was something else in her gaze.
I turned around and left the room. The noise behind him became muffled, but it echoed in the corridors.
As I walked down the stairs, a plan formed in my head. To gain Fang's trust, I need to not only solve the problem, but also do it in such a way that the result cements my status in his eyes. Better yet, don't make unnecessary sacrifices. Even if he won't be suitable for the ritual, as a puppet, he's more than suitable.
Outside, the evening wind carried the smell of salt from the sea, which mixed with the bitterness of rotting waste. The noise of drunken pirate songs blended with the dull creak of the ship's masts.
I took my time. The task required understanding. First, I went to the market to see it in action. Or rather, in inaction.
The market, which, as I was told, was the main trading place on the island, seemed almost abandoned. Only a few shops were still open, and their owners were clearly nervous at the sight of pirates. One woman was quickly folding up her goods, glancing at me briefly.
"A difficult day?" I asked her in a flat tone. Although, to tell the truth, I feel sorry for them. Moreover, I partly felt guilty that even in the future I would not help them, since I would have to keep an image all the time for the sake of my plans.
She flinched slightly, but answered anyway.:
— It seems like every day is difficult, sir.
— Where can I find Leo? I continued without raising my voice.
The woman looked around, checking if there were any other pirates nearby. Then she pointed towards the warehouse at the edge of the market.
"He's there, but you'd better not disturb him.
I thanked her and headed for the warehouse.
There were indeed two guards standing in front of the warehouse entrance. They look like tough guys, but they're not professionals. Their poses were relaxed, but their gazes were wary. They looked at me like wolves ready to defend their prey.
"I want to talk to Leo," I said calmly, without unnecessary severity.
One of the guards narrowed his eyes, as if assessing me. Then, after exchanging glances with his friend, he slowly opened the door.
I stepped inside and looked around the room.
The warehouse was spacious, but almost empty. Only a few boxes were neatly stacked against the wall, which were marked with different ports. A man in an expensive suit was sitting at a small wooden table littered with papers. His gaze was sharp and wary.
— Who are you? "What is it?" he asked without getting up.
I bowed my head a little.
— Rex. One of Fang's men.
His lips pressed into a thin line.
— And what do you need?
— Solve a problem that seems to affect you as well.
He sighed and, clasping his fingers, looked at me intently.
— good. Let's talk.
Leo motioned me to a chair across from him. I sat down, still looking calm and confident.
"So Fang has decided it's time to figure out what's going on?" Leo asked with a hint in his voice.
—Maybe,— I replied. — He wants the island to continue to benefit him. Apparently, you can help me with this issue.
Leo studied me carefully, as if trying to figure out if it was worth sharing his thoughts. Then he leaned back in his chair and spoke:
— The situation, as you know, is not easy. The pirates run the place as they please. This scared off most of the merchants, and those who stayed are afraid to even open shops. Provisions are not coming, people are starving. If this continues, the island will come to an end.
— And what do you suggest? I asked, keeping my tone even.
— I am ready to help restore trade. I have contacts on other islands where they still agree to work with this... Hmm, a captured place. But I need guarantees. Otherwise, I'll lose everything too.
I pretended to consider his words.
— Guarantees from whom?
—From Fang, of course," Leo replied. — So that his people do not touch my goods and do not rob me every time I ship the goods.
"It's going to be difficult. Convincing Fang of something is not an easy task.
Leo nodded, as if agreeing with my words.
"But it's possible if you're smart enough," he added.
I didn't answer, just nodded.
"Is there anything else I should know?" - I asked.
—Yes,— Leo said seriously, leaning forward. — Some of your people are too zealous in defending the island from imaginary enemies. One of them is a merchant named Harold. He claims that his caravan was robbed by your people.
"Where can I find this Harold?"
— He lives nearby, on the southern outskirts of the city. But mind you, he is... not the most talkative person, especially with pirates.
I stood up, nodded to Leo, and headed for the exit.
— Thanks for the information. I hope we can solve your problem.
"I hope so, Rex,— he said. "The sooner the better.
The southern part of the city was even more devastated. The houses here were older, with broken windows and peeling paint. People hardly showed themselves on the streets, and those who dared to come out quickly walked away as soon as they saw me. I wonder what caused this chaos? Most of the pirates stick to the headquarters and other nearby areas. Did their drinking even reach this far into the city?
I found Harold's house. It was a small building with a sagging roof and a peeling facade. I knocked on the door.
No one answered for a long time. Then I heard someone moving slowly inside.
— Who's there? A hoarse voice rang out.
— Rex. I came to talk.
The door opened just enough for me to see part of the face of an elderly man with a gray beard. His eyes looked at me with disbelief.
"Talk?" With a pirate?
"I want to hear your side of the story," I said calmly.
Harold opened the door a little wider.
— Okay, come on in.
I went inside. The house was poorly furnished, but clean. There were old maps and tools on the walls, obviously related to trade. Harold pointed to a chair by the table and sat down opposite.
—Speak up,— he snapped.
"I was told that your caravan had been robbed,— I began.
"This isn't just a robbery," Harold growled. "It was a warning. One of your people told me that this is payment for the fact that I work with the Marine Patrol.
— And you work with them?
"Not by choice," he admitted. — The Marine Patrol has sent people to ensure the protection of the caravans. But now I'm trapped. If I refuse their help, they will call me a traitor. If I continue, your pirates won't let me live.
I was silent, thinking about what I had heard.
"What do you want?"
—Get out of here,— Harold said. "Leave me and my family alone, and I'll disappear."
His eyes darted like those of a hunted animal.
— And if I solve the problem differently? - I asked. Options were running through my head, but letting him go was like finding a scapegoat. Fang would really think he was a spy and try to kill him.
Harold looked at me with raised eyebrows.
"How?"
— I don't know yet. But I promise you that no one will touch you and your family. - After these words, I realized that I had left the image of Rex. I should be more restrained in some matters.
Harold interrupted my thoughts, staring intently at me.
"Promise?" "What is it?" he asked suspiciously.
—Yes," I said shortly. Well, okay, let it be part of the image of Rex in the eyes of the locals.
The man stared at me for a long time, then sighed heavily and seemed to relax a little.
— If you really do it... I can tell you more," he added.
"Start with what you know about the Marine Corps," I suggested.
"They've been here a long time. Since about when Fang took over the island," Harold replied, rubbing his beard. — But they act cautiously. They have a few people here, no more. They dress up as locals and work quietly so as not to attract attention.
— So they support trade?
"Not really. They're counting on local merchants to gather information about Fang and his fleet. But most of us are afraid to spy on pirates. It's dangerous.
I nodded, taking in his words.
— Which one of them is the main one?
"I only know one thing. He sometimes comes to me with questions. He calls himself Mr. Grave.
"Where can I find him?"
Harold shook his head.
"I do not know that. He only comes when he sees fit.
The conversation was coming to a standstill. Harold obviously didn't know more than he could tell, and the Marines were too secretive.
"Thanks for the information," I said, standing up.
I left Harold and headed back to the city.
_______________________________________________________________________
On the opposite side of the island, in a small shop, Mr. Grave was studying a map of the coast. He looked inconspicuous: simple clothes, a wide-brimmed hat hiding his face. However, his gaze was sharp, tenacious.
—So you've met this Rex," he said without turning around.
Harold, who was standing nearby, nodded uncertainly.
- yes. He promised to help," the merchant muttered.
Grave chuckled slightly.
"Interesting." If this pirate decides to side with the locals, it may play into our hands. And if not...
He didn't finish his sentence, but Harold felt a chill down his spine.
"Keep an eye on him,— Grave ordered. — If he's really trying to help, give him some freedom. And if not, we'll find another way to speed up the end of Fung.
Harold nodded silently while Grave stared at the map again.
"This island needs to be brought back under our control," he said, almost in a whisper. — People need to see that the Marine Patrol is their protection.