The sudden shout froze every pirate in the tavern. The two groups, who moments before had been at each other's throats, exchanged glances and, as if by unspoken agreement, all turned and rushed toward the exit.
At this point, William no longer concerned himself with supplies—what good was wine compared to one's life?
Pirates filled the streets. The experienced ones with quick reflexes were already sprinting toward the harbor, while the slower rookies still wore bewildered expressions.
Second Mate Bamond's earlier swagger had vanished, replaced by frantic urgency. But William had no time to mock him—he too was running for his life.
Danton's pirate crew had never been a match for the pursuing Marines. Now, with their ship damaged, supplies depleted, and caught mid-plunder at the docks, the pirates had neither the will nor strength to fight. This much was clear to nearly everyone aboard.
Their captain, Danton, had been lingering with his trusted men near the docks on the town's outskirts—likely planning to flee at the first sign of trouble. Any pirates who couldn't reach the ship in time would certainly be abandoned.
Fortunately, William had anticipated this. He and his companions—Agin, Aramis, Vallon—were not far from the harbor. After running a short distance, they spotted the docks and their pirate ship already unfurling its sails.
"Damn it!" Bamond and Aramis cursed in unison at the sight.
Luckily, such a multi-masted sailing ship required time and manpower to set sail. With the current skeleton crew aboard, by the time William, Bamond, and their respective groups scrambled on board, the battered vessel—resembling a legendary ghost ship—had only just begun to move slowly away from the dock.
Some pirates who had just arrived at the harbor stood on the shore, desperately shouting for the ship to stop. A few even leaped into the sea, frantically swimming after it, but they clearly had no chance of catching up.
Under the navigator's direction, William worked alongside other pirates, handling ropes and controlling sails. Captain Danton stood on deck, completely deaf to the pleas carried faintly on the wind. Those left behind had virtually no chance of escaping the Marines' capture—they were like fish in a barrel on this unfamiliar island.
As the pirate ship pulled away from the dock, Marine warships became visible to the naked eye, causing every pirate's heart to race. They couldn't possibly escape pursuit in their dilapidated vessel. Fortunately, for unknown reasons, the Marines didn't give chase. They merely fired a few cannon shots—more symbolic than practical—before heading toward the island.
...
In the town, the remaining pirates had been eliminated, but the survivors felt little relief. They gathered uncomfortably at the docks, watching as sailors in naval uniforms with blue neckerchiefs methodically carried various goods and valuables to the harbor.
The Marines' commanding officer, though short in stature, carried himself with authority. Draped in a white coat with golden epaulettes, he sat casually on a sofa that had appeared from somewhere, puffing on a cigar as he observed his men continuously transporting goods from the town. He exhaled smoke rings with evident satisfaction.
Among these items were things previously stolen by pirates from other locations, but most had just been plundered from this very town. Clearly, the short commander had no intention of returning anything to the local residents.
The townspeople, still shaken from the recent raid, could only silently fume, not daring to voice their anger. After a long while, the surviving mayor, pushed forward by the crowd, finally summoned the courage to approach the short commander.
The mayor, white-haired and skeletal, was quite tall. Fearing he might offend the commander, he bent his back as he approached, hunching like a hunchback, appearing almost comical. Cautiously, he began: "Sir, the townspeople are grateful to you and your men for driving away the pirates. We'd like to invite you and your soldiers to the tavern for drinks as a token of our appreciation."
The short commander looked at the mayor, raising an eyebrow noncommittally. "That's a good suggestion. Once we finish our business here, we'll consider it."
The mayor nervously wrung his hands and ventured: "Sir, since you've already defeated the pirates, perhaps you should rest first. These minor matters of inventory don't require your attention—the residents could simply reclaim their belongings."
As soon as the mayor finished speaking, the atmosphere noticeably chilled. A nearby officer who had been recording in a ledger paused and looked over. Several soldiers within earshot also turned toward them, their gazes distinctly unfriendly, causing the mayor to hunch even lower.
The short commander waved for the officer to continue his accounting, then said to the mayor with a sardonic smile: "These items are all pirate loot. We're documenting everything for proper confiscation."
"But most of these things were just stolen from our town..."
The short commander rudely interrupted, jabbing his finger forcefully into the mayor's shoulder: "Can you claim that all of these belong to your town?"
The mayor instinctively shook his head.
"In that case, we must first take these goods. We can't simply take your word for it. Once we've had time to investigate and sort everything out, we'll naturally return what belongs to your town."
The mayor opened his mouth but dared not accuse the short commander of lying or express his disbelief that anything would ever be returned.
The short commander, no longer interested in conversing with the mayor, ordered two strong soldiers to escort him away.
An officer approached at that moment and reported quietly: "We've searched everywhere. None of the pirates had sea charts on them. It seems there was no navigator among them."
The short officer smiled: "I expected as much. It seems those pirates aren't complete fools—they must have realized we were herding them."
"Should we continue letting them raid villages?"
"We'll decide at the next village," the short commander said, gazing at the mountain of goods accumulating on the dock. With satisfaction, he added: "Let these people gather more spoils for us. We might as well make the most of them before they meet their end."
Just as William had suspected—in a lawless environment, who says pirates must only plunder and kill? And who says Marines must always protect the people?
...
Aboard Danton's pirate ship, the crew had finally escaped the Marines and the devastated town. After working on deck, William finally had a chance to rest.
In an unfortunate encounter, walking through the ship's corridor, William came face to face with Second Mate Bamond. The man clearly noticed him too, and as they passed, he deliberately slammed his shoulder into William's, his face full of provocation.
However, both Bamond and William knew this wasn't the time for conflict. If they fought now, forget the pursuing Marines—the captain himself wouldn't let them off easily. So Bamond made no further move. Seeing no reaction from William, he smirked smugly, as if he'd won some great victory, and continued on his way.
William stood there for a moment, watching Bamond's retreating figure, and chuckled contemptuously.
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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