From sailboats to star destroyers (Source: Web)

Chapter 66 Black Market Encounters

The sea breeze carries a salty, fishy, ​​and rotten smell.

Miao Meng and Count Barsamuel stood at the bow of the fishing boat, gazing at the island that was faintly visible in the mist.

This is "Anchor Bay," a place that cannot be found on most nautical charts. But that didn't stop Miao Meng from finding this small island in the vast sea.

It doesn't look like a pure black market; it's more like an island town that has become abnormally prosperous due to smuggling and gray-market transactions.

Although the island is not small, the buildings are densely packed together, covering every inch of land like barnacles, making it feel like there is nowhere to put your feet.

Near the center of the island, on higher ground, one can even see a small, fenced-off vegetable garden, where a few wilted vegetables and rows of low-lying tobacco plants stubbornly grow, adding a touch of absurd vitality to this chaotic place.

However, no matter how dry the vegetables and tobacco leaves are, they are still of utmost importance on the island, and a team patrols around the vegetable gardens at all times.

The docks were even more bizarre, with no solid stone banks, but rather a dense array of boats of all sizes.

Fishing boats, sloops, and even clearly modified armed merchant ships with gun ports were all tightly connected together with thick planks and heavy ropes, forming a floating platform at sea that connected to the land at the edge of the island.

Looking at the continuous docks, Miao Meng imagined the Battle of Red Cliffs, recalling how Zhuge Liang had used the east wind to start a raging fire under such circumstances.

The wooden planks beneath his feet creaked and swayed gently with the waves, but the Black Earl remained perfectly still as he walked on the fishing boat at the dock—it was his pirate instinct.

The air was filled with the smells of fish, cheap rum, sweat, cheap perfume, dried seafood, and a musty odor emanating from the bottom of the ship's hold.

A diverse array of people moved among the ship's decks: dark-skinned, muscular fishermen and pirates; well-dressed merchants with gleaming eyes; lone travelers in waterproof cloaks; and desperados in blood-stained leather armor, carrying scimitars and axes.

The sounds of hawking, rude arguments, hushed, mysterious conversations, and drunken howls mingled together.

Several groups of burly men in dark leather armor, carrying battle axes or maces, silently passed through the crowd.

Their arms were covered in scars and indigo tattoos, and their eyes were sharp like eagles, scanning their surroundings warily.

If someone gets into an argument or pushes someone too hard, they will immediately be stared at by their cold gaze, and the conflict will often end before it even begins.

These are the "Axe Guards" who maintain order in Anchor Bay. They are all second-tier Guterres berserkers, known for their ferocity and ruthlessness, and are especially skilled in using the martial art of "Benevolence," which is to split a person in two.

The Black Earl whispered to Miao Meng that these axe guards were now under the command of the pirate leader who was in charge of the area.

"Intelligence is both gold and poison. In the tavern, there's only drunken talk and job-hunting shouts."

The Black Earl's voice was clear under his hood, drowning out the surrounding noise.

He led Miao Meng nimbly through the crowded streets and narrow boat decks, with a clear objective, avoiding those "intelligence hotspots" with tattered signs and noisy din.

They were going to an inconspicuous shop on the edge of the dock area.

A string of dried, strange herbs and a few feathers hung above the doorway; the signboard was long since blurred.

Pushing open the creaking wooden door, a strong and complex aroma of herbs wafted out, spicy with a hint of bitterness and a subtle sweetness.

The room was dimly lit, and a woman dressed in a dark brown robe that looked like it was made of tree bark and vines was hunched over stirring a viscous liquid in front of a smoldering earthenware pot.

On the stone platform beside the pot were scattered crystal balls, animal skulls, and jars of strangely colored mineral powder. In the corner, there was even a pot of dark purple plants with serrated leaves, gently swaying.

The woman raised her head, revealing a face eroded by time and some force, covered with fine wrinkles, but her eyes were unusually bright and sharp.

The Black Earl walked up and, without much preamble, uttered a few obscure words in a low, rhythmic tone, as if they were some kind of code.

The witch's cloudy eyes lingered on them for a moment, especially on the Black Earl, as if she sensed a faint, icy aura emanating from the depths of his soul.

She didn't speak, but instead pulled a small roll of old parchment from her sleeve and pushed it to the counter with her withered fingers.

The Black Earl picked up the scroll but didn't open it immediately; he simply nodded. The two then turned and left the herb shop, rejoining the crowded throng.

The route on the parchment scroll is not complicated, but it points to a very remote alley deep in the island.

At the end of the alley was a stone wall covered with slippery moss, which looked like a dead end.

But the Black Earl did not hesitate and led Miao Meng straight toward the wall—the moment they touched the wall, the scene before them rippled like water, the cold stone wall disappeared, and they stepped into suffocating darkness.

Absolute darkness, as if even sound had been swallowed up.

Then, with a soft "hiss," a tiny candle flame appeared a few steps away, its small flame flickering and barely illuminating a small area.

Behind the candlelight, a figure sat indistinctly behind a low wooden table, completely shrouded in a large black hooded cloak, even his chin hidden in shadow.

"What do the traders in the dark want?"

A hoarse, neutral, and emotionless voice came from under the hood, piercing the darkness and reaching their ears clearly.

Miao Meng and Count Black were also wrapped in thick cloaks and had their faces covered with masks, only their eyes were visible. This was a preparation they had made before coming to the island.

Count Black couldn't be sure if anyone would still remember his face after all these years, while Miao Meng was even more worried that his youthful face might cause some kind of accident.

The Black Earl stepped forward, his voice deliberately changing to a low, indistinct tone: "The order of Anchor Bay, the lurking sharks, and... the pearls in the deep sea."

The hooded man seemed to move slightly, but did not answer immediately.

With a thought, a heavy money bag made of thick linen silently appeared in the Black Earl's hand.

The Black Earl tossed it onto the wooden table by the candlelight, the coins in the bag hitting the table with a clear, dull thud.

The hooded man stretched out his withered fingers from under his cloak and weighed the money pouch in his hand with a precise and practiced motion.

Dozens of gold coins, the common currency of the continent of Galtilan, are enough to buy many "open secrets" and even some "non-public" information that is strictly guarded, in this place where information is power.

The hooded man's voice was still hoarse: "The master of the Axe Guard is 'Redbeard' Mallory."

"His flag has been planted in Anchorage Bay for ten years. His 'Crimson Fleet' has eight ships, four of which are capable of fighting tough battles. Among them, the 'Bloodhowl' is his flagship, like a floating fortress."

The hoarse voice paused for a moment, as if organizing its thoughts or recalling something.

"Mallory was greedy and insane. Merchant ships that he targeted would be looted of all their goods, and half of the people would die. He liked to play 'survival games,' making the survivors kill each other, and only the last one alive could leave."

"His reliance?" the Black Earl pressed, his voice devoid of emotion.

"It is said that..."