A nimble-fingered guitarist played a breathtaking solo while the dancers picked up their pace, their dresses fluttering and twirling in the air.
Their footsteps echoed in perfect rhythm with the beat of the music.
The drunken tavern visitors clapped and cheered, so spilling their drinks accidentally as they forgot that they were holding them.
With loud curses and cheers, the guitarist's solo continued to increase the pace, his fingers flying across the strings in a srizing display of skill and dexterity.
Ambrose enjoyed his drink while tapping his foot to the rhythm.
At that mont, the tavern's double doors swung open.
The loud music and the cheering of the crowd drowned out the sound of the doors opening, but everyone subconsciously felt like the atmosphere had turned little bit more depressing.
The drunken excitent in the air softened, and the volu of the cheers quieted down significantly.
Even the guitarist and the dancers lost their enthusiasm and energy as they perford, their movents turning sluggier and more lethargic.
'Hmm, the pace of the song is way slower now.' Ambrose noticed that the guitarist's enthusiasm was much lower than before, with his fingers moving like they were being controlled by strings.
He wondered whether sothing was bothering him.
At that mont, a tall, broad-shouldered man sat beside him on a high stool, leaning against the bar counter, and lazily raised his hand.
"Bartender, may I have so whiskey on the rocks?"
The bartender nodded and poured a glass of whiskey, sliding it across the counter towards the man.
The man gratefully picked up the glass and took a long sip, savoring the smooth taste as it ward him from the inside.
"Ahh~" He let out a satisfied sigh. "That is good stuff."
Ambrose looked away from the show, as it felt less interesting now that the enthusiasm had worn off, and happened to glance at the man.
It was a strange feeling.
As soon as his eyes landed on him, Ambrose felt like sothing was removed from his body unwillingly, leaving him feeling empty and hollow.
However, as soon as he tore his gaze away, he started feeling normal again.
"Heh." The man chuckled and glanced at the young man beside him. "You have a lot of fate with you, young man."
"Eh?" Ambrose subconsciously glanced at him and engraved his appearance deep inside his mind.
The man had one eye that was blue, but the second eye was silver-colored with a star-shaped pupil. Ambrose had never seen anything like that before.
He had an angular-shaped face with sharp eyebrows and a silly grin stretching his facial muscles. On his chin, there was a small black beard, trimd neatly.
The color was the sa as his short black hair, but there were several silver hair strands on his head, indicating signs of aging.
He wore a white shirt and an open-front black vest with black trousers and knee-high faux leather boots. Decorating all that was a black tricorn hat with a skull and crossbones symbol, and in the end, there was a silver dallion on his chest.
With his tall, muscular, and broad-shouldered body, he looked like a formidable entity with an air of confidence and strength.
"Your face, I rember it." The man chuckled and took a brown-colored poster from his vest pocket and unfolded it on the counter.
It had a sketched image of a young man with an astonishing bounty.
Ambrose's eyes widened in shock, and then asked the man, "Are you a bounty hunter?"
"Do I look like a bounty hunter?" The man grinned and pointed at his tricorn hat, which had a symbol of a skull and crossbones. "I'm a pirate!"
The bartender gulped but didn't stop cleaning the cups, even though they were already clean.
It wasn't uncommon to have pirates frequent the island, but they were very unreasonable and dangerous people.
So far, whether it was luck or not, none of the top-class pirate crews have visited Borneo Island.
The reason could be a nearby navy base that protected nearby islands, but if a pirate crew happened to be too strong, they couldn't rely on their help!
"Who are you, and what do you want?" Ambrose asked while finishing up his drink.
His eyes were scanning the interior of the tavern, looking for possible escape routes if needed.
"My na is Mars Ares Godfriend, and I am just an ordinary pirate, haha." Mars laughed raspily. "And what do I want? Well..."
"C-captain of the Black Heart Pirates..." The bartender whispered with fear and fell to his knees. He imdiately clutched a cross around his neck, praying for protection from the Holy Father.
'Black Heart Pirates? They seem very infamous.' Ambrose glanced towards the exit and felt like running off, but for so reason, he was glued to the stool.
The atmosphere in the tavern had beco dull and heavy with depression.
The guitarist had already stopped playing the guitar and was just sitting on the stool, staring blankly at the ground that had wet marks.
The dancers had abandoned the dance floor, leaving it empty and lifeless, and instead, they were sitting in the corner, their eyes hollow and empty.
All the drunken custors had stopped drinking and just twirled their fingers around the rim of their glasses absentmindedly. They didn't even feel like drinking, let alone moving.
"Don't mind them." Mars said and took a sip of his whiskey. "I have stolen their fate. Their futures might've been filled with riches and success, but now they are trapped in a never-ending loop of depression and failure."
"Why..." Ambrose whispered before saying it louder. "Why did you steal their fate?"
"They don't need it." Mars sipped on the whiskey. "That guitarist over there would've beco famous with a big family and riches that many could dream of. However, what use does any of it have?
"His fate doesn't change the world for the better or worse; it's just a story lost among countless others. He will be forgotten quickly when he dies; he fades away in history.
"However, I'll be rembered in history as soone who changed the world. So, why is it wrong that I steal their fate for sothing much greater?"
Ambrose coughed loudly as his hand touched the hilt of his sword, but he was unable to draw it.
"Do not fight." Mars finished the whiskey and looked at the black-haired young man. "Ambrose, from today onward, you'll be the ninth mber of my pirate crew. You will sail the seas with ; anwhile, I'll be stealing your fate till you have nothing left."
"Why... " Ambrose coughed out his words with great struggle.
"There are only a handful of people with enough fate capable of changing the world. All my crew mbers are those kinds of people—they are tools to change the world forever.
"Your and their fate will eventually help shape the world to my own image."
"Not... happening!" Ambrose scread, and after feeling that he wasn't on combat state, he forcefully opened his interface and reached out to the log-off button.
However, then Mars removed his silver dallion from his neck and pressed it against Ambrose's forehead.
"Argh!" Ambrose felt a burning sensation on his forehead, and once Mars removed the silver dallion, there was a small mark left behind, glowing faintly.
It was a black heart.
Ding, ding!
[You have been forced into a contract!]
[You'll be unable to leave "Mars Ares Godfriend"]
[The contract can only be severed by the death of the contractor!]
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