Plop!
The bartender fell to the ground, rolling in pain as he curled up into a ball. On the cell phone.
m.
White Shark Hamilton grunted heavily and didn't say a word. He turned his head and walked to the second floor, causing the wooden stairs to creak.
After the spectacle was over, the drunkards dispersed. Captain Erland and company returned to the first floor without being affected and continued playing cards.
Klein took the opportunity to step up the stairs.
He returned to Flying Fish and Wine, not to deal with White Shark because of the nonexistent threat, but purely to obtain more information from this bar owner who had connections with many pirate factions. After all, the hidden meaning behind the name of his new identity, Gehrman, was to hunt pirates whose hands were stained with blood. He wanted to use their souls, flesh, and Beyonder characteristics to replace the person awaiting release in Creeping Hunger.
Damir Harbor didn't have any gas resources, so the corridor on the second floor was rather dark. On both sides of the walls were inlaid brass candlesticks, and the lights flickered like dim embers.
As Klein observed his surroundings, he reached out to wipe his face and silently transformed into a guard on the first floor.
As for the difference in his attire, he used his ability to create illusions to make up for it.
After making his preparations, he walked towards White Shark Hamilton's room, which his spiritual intuition told him about.
He first passed by the card game, but he didn't attract anyone's attention.
He came in front of the few guards guarding the passageway and consciously stopped in his tracks.
He suppressed his voice and said, "There's something happening downstairs again."
"There's a storm. What's going on tonight?" a guard sighed.
"I hope those beauties aren't hurt," another guard said worriedly.
He was referring to the prostitutes who were attached to the bar.
"They're fine." Klein passed the guard and came to White Shark's door. He cautiously raised his hand and knocked.
"Who is it?" Hamilton asked warily.
"Boss, it's me. There's something happening downstairs again!" Klein recalled the address he had received while watching the spectacle and deliberately said in a hoarse voice.
"Damn it!" Hamilton roared angrily. "Come in and tell me what's happening!"
Klein twisted the doorknob and walked in.
As he closed the door, he dispelled the illusion. His facial muscles squirmed rapidly as he changed back into his identity — a new drinker with blond hair, blue eyes, and ordinary facial features.
"You …" Hamilton was stunned for a moment before he opened his mouth and tried to shout.
At the same time, illusory fish scales appeared on the back of his hand, and his originally tall and fat body expanded again.
Suddenly, his heartbeat quickened, and an instinctive fear gripped his throat.
At this moment, he felt that the stranger standing by the door was a demon that had been starving for many days, and was examining his flesh and soul with a cold, yearning gaze.
In an instant, White Shark Hamilton fell into extreme panic and was unable to respond effectively.
Klein slowly walked to the sofa, sat down, and politely smiled.
"Can we talk peacefully now?"
The feeling of being stared at by a terrifying monster suddenly disappeared, and Hamilton suddenly felt relaxed. His body, on the other hand, was like a punctured balloon, shriveling up a lot.
He no longer called for help recklessly. Sweat appeared on his forehead.
"Who are you? What do you want to do? "
"A hunter." Klein replied casually. "I heard that you're in contact with many pirate forces. I want to know the corresponding situation."
"No, I don't …" White Shark Hamilton subconsciously denied.
He immediately felt the extreme hunger again, and he felt that the man's eyes seemed to be dyed with a layer of dark red.
Klein deliberated over his persona and smiled.
"You have two choices.
"One is to answer honestly, and the other is to be killed by me. Then, answer honestly."
Killing and channeling? White Shark Hamilton had heard of similar rumors as he swallowed his saliva with great difficulty.
"Why do you want to know about this?"
Klein smiled and said, "I'm a hunter.
"I'm a hunter. I'm after the bounty."
Hamilton suddenly felt that there was an indescribable madness in the other party's polite smile. He couldn't help but blurt out,
He couldn't help but blurt out, "A-are you crazy?
"I've seen many similar adventurers, but all of them perished at the bottom of the sea!
"It's not difficult to hunt a pirate alone, but can you guard against subsequent retaliation? The prostitutes in the bar, the seemingly ordinary customers, might be pirates' informants! Accomplices who are friendly with you might be bribed at any time to shoot you in the back! The pirates will also gather intelligence in advance and surround the ship you're on. Can you protect all the passengers? Can you survive the bombardment of cannons and the sea where you can't escape? "
After venting the fear in his heart, he saw the man who claimed to be a hunter reveal a warm smile once again.
"Kill them all, and there won't be such problems."
… A true lunatic … White Shark Hamilton drew a breath and said, "I have contact with many pirates, but I'm passive.
"I'm in contact with many pirates, but they're all passive. The cash, jewelry, and goods they snatch need to be sold in exchange for liquor, food, fresh water, weapons, and women's comfort. All of this has to go through me, but I can only wait for them here. I don't know where their ships are sailing or what their nearest target is."
"Anything else?" Klein asked without batting an eyelid.
His answer was mainly to scare White Shark. As for the pirates' revenge, he wasn't worried at all. As a Faceless, if he could be found so easily, he might as well find a place to sink to the bottom of the sea.
Also … White Shark Hamilton's throat bobbed, but he didn't immediately give an affirmative or negative description.
He shut his mouth tightly and looked at the gentleman in the half top hat, meeting his calm and reserved eyes that seemed to be brewing madness.
The uneasy silence was like the surface of the sea before a storm, gently reverberating, colliding, and fermenting.
Finally, Hamilton moved his gaze away and propped his hand on the table in frustration.
"Yes, I'm still gathering information for them. If there's any urgent information, I'll use the radio station they gave me to warn them."
White Shark didn't dare take the risk, afraid that the other party had a unique Beyonder power that could determine if he was telling the truth or if he was telling the truth.
"Radio station?" Klein, who had succeeded in his gamble, keenly captured the term.
"That's what they call it. It's similar to a telegram, but there's no need for a wire." Hamilton turned around and walked to the grayish-white safe before squatting down.
Wireless telegram? Pirates are so high-tech? Klein vaguely guessed what the radio station was.
He had once thought of inventing something similar, but only after flipping through the corresponding magazines did he realize that wireless telegrams had long appeared. It was just that they hadn't found a place in the commercial field yet. The Berserk Sea that separated the Northern and Southern Continents had lightning and thunder all year round, with chaotic magnetic fields and storms. Only a few sea routes were passable, and even if they were equipped with wireless telegrams, it was almost useless. Similarly, the Fog Sea and Sonia Sea had drastic weather changes, and there were many factors that affected electromagnetic transmission. The application of wireless telegrams was greatly limited.
Could it be that there's an improved version that can solve some of the problems? Klein watched White Shark pry open the floorboard in front of the safe, and by twisting the device, a secret door appeared in the wall.
Behind the secret door was a hidden cabinet divided into three compartments. The top layer was filled with some documents and bills. There were revolvers, new half-arm guns, and other weapons. Below it was a complicated black machine.
With just a glance, Klein determined that the mechanical object was a radio station through his memories from his previous life and the information he had gathered.
"It's this thing. They call it a radio station. The news it sends can be received by something as far away as the Rorsted Archipelago. Any further will depend on the weather and luck. Usually, it's very troublesome and has many restrictions." Hamilton didn't quite understand. Based on the teachings and experience he had received, he vaguely described the corresponding situation.
The new radio station that's currently being commercialized is even more powerful … I wonder who invented it … Klein listened quietly and directly asked:
"Who are they?"
He made himself appear like a bounty hunter who didn't know anything about technology.
White Shark Hamilton wiped the cold sweat off his forehead.
"Silver Coin Viper Oder, who claims to serve the owner of the Dawn, and Old Quinn, the intelligence officer of the General of Blood, appeared together. I can't confirm if they are working together. Of course, Oder has always been making claims."
The owner of the Dawn, that Queen Mystic? Klein retracted his gaze. At some point in time, a gold coin had appeared in his hand.
The gold coin constantly rolled between his fingers before finally leaping into the air and landing. It left White Shark unsure as to what was going on as he trembled in fear.
Lowering his head to take a glance, he slowly stood up.
At this moment, he suddenly asked:
"Who gave you the potion?"
"Ol — Old Quinn …" Hamilton hesitated for a moment before choosing to answer honestly.
Klein nodded gently and didn't ask any further. He turned and walked to the door.
Creak! The wooden door opened and closed as the figure in the black coat disappeared from White Shark's room.
Hamilton held his breath and waited for more than ten seconds before finally letting out a long sigh.
He quickly wiped the sweat off his face, moved the radio station to the table, took out a codebook, and hurriedly sent a telegram into the distance.
"I'm being watched!
"An unfamiliar fellow!"
Beside the focused Hamilton, Klein had his hands in his pockets as he watched silently, taking in the waveband spectrum and the contents of the codebook.
His departure just now was just a large-scale illusion performance. It was more than enough to deal with a Low-Sequence Beyonder of the Sailor pathway like White Shark.
As for whether or not he could remember the exact content, a Seer didn't need to consider it. A single dream divination would allow him to recall all of it.
The General of Blood and his subordinates love to kill, love blood, and are passionate about violence against women. Every time they plunder a passenger ship, there will always be a tragedy … This is publicly acknowledged, and they are also very proud of it. They are never stingy with their proclamations … Hunting targets, adventuring targets, prioritize them … Klein thought for a moment, and while Hamilton was packing up the radio station, he prepared to leave the room.
He didn't plan on dealing with White Shark for the time being, afraid that he would alarm his true prey. After all, this fellow was on land and had a fixed territory. Furthermore, he had something on him. He could easily deal with him with a report letter.
Amidst Klein's silent footsteps, the door slowly opened and closed, bringing in a cool breeze.
PS: Last day and a half in November. Seeking monthly votes ~
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