All the arrangents had been settled, from the rendezvous point to the precautions and the specific compensation.
Neither side had any more questions.
During the al, the waiter opened the two copper coin heavy rum brought by Liszt for the Earl’s family to drink. The expressions of the four people were quite spectacular, having never encountered such spicy and inferior stuff before.
Liszt was not soone without discernnt; he knew his group of fugitives couldn’t stay overnight at the Earl’s house, and after finishing the al and dessert, it was ti to leave.
This was the first and possibly last eting with this Earl.
Liszt and his group left with the Golden Dragon. If fate allowed, they could collaborate in the future.
After the Black Sail group left,
the Count’s son stared in shock at the empty long table.
In the Western Continent, hosting a al was like in Liszt’s hotown; regardless of whether one could finish the food, appearances had to be kept up, with Great Nobles typically serving twenty or thirty dishes.
With the ntality of not being at a loss, Liszt even had the food packed up and taken away. On the ship, the standard civilians of the Beima Duchy only dared to eat at during festivals. Such a al was bound to be heartbreakingly morable.
"Is this really appropriate, a hundred Golden Dragon a day..."
The Count’s son thought his father was being sowhat too lavish. Including the thirty Golden Dragons from the sheriff yesterday, the hundred Golden Dragons just now, and the upcoming thousand Golden Dragons, it was already astronomical for normal people, and even for the entire family, it was a huge expense, like cutting off a large chunk of thigh at.
"To reach their level, there are no dimwitted people; in their minds, they understand this is a mission of almost certain death. This isn’t money for them to work; it’s money for their lives."
The Earl walked over to the window. His glass still half-filled with the inferior rum, he seriously savored the harsh spiciness. Pirates were such peculiar creatures; the sea’s utterly lawless realm also gave rise to beings that could not be judged by terrestrial standards, dancing on a wire with their lives in the balance.
"Are the lives of pirates worth this money?"
The Count’s son understood the gravity of the situation, but the privateer certificate wasn’t sothing that could be settled through re connections. Gifts were already prepared; all things considered, they truly weren’t worth much.
"You still have a lot to learn. You should know that the secret port we’ve opened is always operating at a loss. The docking fees from smugglers and pirates only amount to a trickle; the taxes we slide past are very limited, nowhere near the money spent on smoothing relationships and bribing the Admiral. Do you understand why I still keep it open?"
The Earl asked his son.
He guessed after a while, "Because... the other nobles in Londen City also have secret ports? If we didn’t have one, it would only allow theirs to grow bigger?"
"Hmm... quite smart, but that’s just one part of it. It’s like the great restaurants in the Inner City; if they were to grow all their own ingredients, they would save a considerable amount of money, but only a fool would do so. You must understand, when a business scales up, it brings its own troubles. So things must be delegated to others, so money must be allowed for others to earn, and so unjust money must also be spent. Only money not spent on cutting edges is truly spent on cutting edges."
The Earl chose to say no more. His son, being young, might not grasp the implications. Even if that great person safely arrived at Lavender Town without any pursuers, they couldn’t use their own ship for the send-off. They must completely dissociate themselves; any small link could put the entire family in mortal danger.
Besides, having no pursuers was impossible. The Black Sail group surely understood as well.
The Count’s son was baffled. So, was it money spent on cutting edges, or not? Was it necessary to buy a chance or what? After all, the most common saying of the Earl was that the world was a utterly chaotic gamble, and what people could do was only to continuously improve their odds of success and accumulate the cost of making mistakes.
And sotis, the latter was far more important than the forr.
More than an hour later.
Secret port.
The al onboard tonight was horrible, prepared by the Swamp Chef Wolman. The complex cooking process was also fastidious; first, boil a large pot of water, then dump the unchopped vegetables in it, sprinkle so seasoning, as the worst ingredients often only require the simplest cooking thods.
Mr. Wolman took just two minutes for the process, ti was limited.
Due to the luxurious lunch, being suddenly brought back to reality had the sailors staring blankly at the boiled vegetable leaves in their bowls.
"Raised on force, still picky, huh?"
Wolman was not feeling well, and Archer had collapsed into a ss, having drunk too much of the Wood Elf’s fruit wine and feeling a bit weak. Now he was lying in the ship’s dical room getting a sobering infusion.
"How is Archer doing?"
Wolman asked as Mika ca out, hoping he was dead, so he could recruit a new chef aboard. Archer was like one of those annoying roommates you’d et in school, never buying his own toiletries like soap and toilet paper, always using soone else’s. Not exactly bad, just irritating. Plus, being a drunkard who acted tough without regard to the situation, he had filled up his talisman quota and was thoroughly disliked.
"He’s okay, I don’t know how his liver does it."
Mika had checked Archer’s liver function with a special diuretic, and surprisingly, the indicators were quite normal. The guy was born to be a drunkard.
At that mont, Liszt and his group returned.
"Fuck! We did it!"
Rein shouted because no one ca to kill them, and they were all jumping around, lively, knowing that the deal had been struck. Big job, initiate!
"What did you bring back this ti?"
Shadi examined closely and noticed they were carrying trays of packed als.
"We brought these back for everyone to try so new dishes."
Liszt and his group set down the trays and called all the sailors together.
Although the food had cooled, it was still edible. Opening the trays, the sights of rich ingredients were dazzling to the sailors, their eyes nearly popping out in amazent.
A few volunteered to make so mashed potatoes to go with the als.
"It seems we’ve got more people."
Liszt observed the deck crowded with people, as they preferred staying on deck before setting sail since the ship’s lower bunk area wasn’t so ventilated.
"We recruited eight people today, a group of bandits from the north. Their base was raided by the local Viscount, and only eight survived. They have experience escaping death, so they should be reliable in combat."
Ox explained to Liszt, having tested the newcors’ skills a bit. They were among the toughest small fries, capable of becoming Silver Level adventurers without any issues.
"Captain! Heard there’s a big job coming up, anything you need, just command us!"
The bald man with a skull tattoo suddenly made such a gesture, catching Liszt off guard.
Liszt was quite impressed with this bald tattooed man, very spirited indeed.
"It’s still early, no rush. You guys go load up in Londen City for the next two days, you should be familiar with the process. From tomorrow, watch over the orders not yet dispatched. Within ten days, everything must be replenished and brought on board. We’ll be setting sail in half a month. This isn’t a joke, it’s a big deal. If we run short of supplies during the voyage, lives could be at risk. If you handle this well, you’ll be promoted, just like in the navy: Second-class Soldier at eight silver coins a month, First-class Soldier at ten, Upper Soldier at thirteen, and a soldier leader managing ten sailors at twenty silver coins. You seem fit enough to be a soldier leader."
Liszt made his judgnts as the core mbers would have to deal with the big job coming. These small roles, no matter how many, wouldn’t amount to what Brother Sha could handle alone, so he delegated the loading tasks to this eager tattooed man.
The tattooed man laughed.
"If I can’t handle it, please chop off my head."
He said so.
Liszt was respectfully amazed, "Fuck, this young man."
"Then it’s settled, you take charge. It’s not just about the base salary on this ship, just like every pirate ship, there’s a bonus, and we’re talking about Golden Dragons here, if you know what I an."
Liszt patted the tattooed man’s shoulder.
Next, he needed to discuss strategies with the key mbers, involving the Heavenly Punisher and Moon Wheel Knight.
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