Black Sail
Chapter 110: CX. Infidelity Storm

Chapter 110: CX. Infidelity Storm

It was nightfall.

Inner City life was just beginning.

Many of the refugees were extremely cautious, for they feared an official might sneak onto the island during the day, so they adjusted their biological clocks and became nocturnal.

Even if you came to catch me, I’d make you drowsy with a charm.

"This is really dangerous."

Liszt and Dreya walked down the street like a couple, but Liszt knew that now was a time of undercurrents, possibly someone might jump out and give him a harsh surprise.

"What’s there to be afraid of, I’m here to protect you."

Dreya pretended to be sweet, looping her arm through Liszt’s, her smile radiant as her red hair and blue eyes dazzled more than a wheat field under the sun.

Passers-by cast curious glances their way, not everyone recognized Liszt, after all, Heaven Port had a significant flow of people; they just assumed the bearded man must be very rich.

It was an instance of an old cow eating tender grass.

In reality, that was exactly the case, except the tender grass was Liszt, young enough to squeeze dew from, for Dreya’s age.

"Having a woman protect me makes me look like an idiot, doesn’t it? If someone comes to chop me down later, just stand aside. Applaud if I win, collect my body if I lose."

Liszt didn’t even know where this mad woman was taking him, winding their way through the streets.

"What if I’m half-dead?"

Dreya asked weakly.

"You wouldn’t just wait for me to die, would you? Try to save me if you can, and if not, just let it go."

Liszt said bluntly.

Dreya was silent for a while, indeed, continuing like this wasn’t viable. Even if Liszt died and they attempted a blood transfusion, scarlet fever was a tricky bacterium, often only effective in very few people; this method was utterly unreliable.

Moreover, if Liszt also became a member of the Blood Clan, his taste might get contaminated, possibly not so delicious anymore.

Liszt had no idea that Dreya, who read so many books, was also looking for other ways to extend life, to have Liszt accompany her forever.

He thought it was just a sham marriage, but Dreya wanted him to be immortal.

"You’ve been playing quite the high stakes lately; I’m genuinely afraid you’ll die."

Dreya pulled out a bottle from the four-dimensional gap in front of her chest and handed it to Liszt.

He was utterly astonished, how did you manage to fit that inside? Still, as Dreya’s husband, Liszt had seen her figures many times, perfectly medium and just right for catching.

"What does this mean?"

Liszt stared at the small bottle, still warm from her touch. Inside was a miraculous red plasma, alive-like, even lying horizontally, it stirred and churned on its own, changing endlessly as if intelligent, each drop of blood seeming to sense each other, even forming vortices on their own.

Quite bizarre.

The small bottle, about five-ounce capacity, even had a pink considerate label on it.

[If Liszt dies, make him drink this.]

"I appreciate it."

When Liszt first met Dreya, he somewhat harbored similar thoughts, but he had completely cut off such notions now. According to the experimental data from the Northern Prison,

the odds of a flintlock gun misfiring against your head are hundreds of times higher than the chances of this thing turning you into a vampire.

"We could always give it a try."

Dreya encouraged Liszt to keep it.

"No need, big sister, do you know what’s most important about mixing with pirates?"

Liszt took Dreya’s handbag, opened the clasp and put the bottle back inside.

Dreya shook her head.

"If there’s an escape route, and one clings to the hope of luck, that’s when you’re truly done for. You must give it your all. Rather than rely on ancient bacteria or some extraterrestrial thing, I’d rather breach the Eternal Sect and become the Pope, getting that Dragon to grant me a few tens of thousands of years of life; that’s not too much to ask, right?"

Liszt spoke calmly, based on verified facts all around the Western Continent and the rumors, the Emperor, capable of smashing Gatandor with a single punch, seemed feasible; Ultraman Tiga, commonly called the Little Emperor, wouldn’t surprise him even if he spawned dozens of gene prototypes one day.

Only a brute could wrestle such a monster, it would be a sensation, a miraculous deed to overturn time and space, done with flair.

I’ll break through, become the Pope and get some divine protection or something, not allowing me a long life is fine, I’ll topple your hood, exterminate your incense, the Eternal Sect will quite simply become the Instant Death Sect.

Dreya chuckled softly, men under forty really aren’t mature, liking to say nonsensical things. When she was still a little girl, the Eternal Sect had already existed for who knows how long, and of course, she was still a girl now.

However, changing blood wasn’t without its proven methods, as long as one could find the Zero patient or the ancestor of the Blood Clan mentioned in the ancient texts. But she didn’t know where they were, existing like the Ancient Dragons, in the realm of myth. Perhaps she should leave this lonely island and spend decades searching.

"You said something the day before yesterday, wouldn’t that mean you need to ... endure it for twenty or thirty thousand years?"

Dreya teased him, feeling a rush of excitement herself, how indecent it was.

"What did I say?"

Liszt had already forgotten it completely.

Dreya’s face changed instantly, she took off her hair tie, and her ponytail cascaded down, her gaze chillingly cold.

"Give you ten seconds to remember."

"Ah?"

Two hours later.

Inner City East, Dreya Manor, study.

Liszt’s lips had lost some color, listless and drained, this woman scratched and gnawed at him relentlessly, he nearly broke down.

He had several bite marks on his upper body and scratches oozing blood.

Dreya, however, was brimming with energy, having clearly enjoyed herself tremendously, still wearing her robe and reclining on a chaise lounge by the fireplace light, reading an adventurer’s biography.

Being an adventurer was quite an ancient profession, and many who made it big later chose to write books about their careers, a very popular genre.

The stories were a mix of truth and fiction, and it was Dreya’s job to discern which was which, especially since there were countless events about prolonging life, with spa curse artifacts, magic beast fruits and more.

"I’m off."

Liszt was so tired he could barely stand upright, his blood and essence being drained, who could withstand it?

"Oh, right, I forgot to tell you something, I’ve already made arrangements with Goria; she will leave the dragon behind, and now we just need to handle Caroso."

Dreya wiped the last bit of blood from the wound on Liszt’s arm, sucked her fingers clean, and continued flipping the page.

"Hmm?"

Suddenly, Liszt’s mind raced, recalling all the odd actions of Goria.

"You had an affair!"

Liszt was immensely shocked.

Sensing Liszt’s meaningful smile, Dreya really exploded this time, picking up a pillow and hurling it straight at him.

Bang...

Her delicate arm concealed enormous strength; Liszt was knocked to the ground with a harsh thud.

"Mad woman, a knee-jerk reaction, huh? You definitely had an affair."

A thought flashed in Liszt’s eyes.

As an old married couple, Dreya naturally knew what Liszt was thinking.

"It’s not that I’m selfish," Dreya squatted down, "If you behave well, it’s not that there isn’t a chance."

Dreya whispered into Liszt’s ear: "Eat a sandwich."

"You are my own wife! We’re truly married, blessed by the Priest!"

Liszt was deeply moved.

"It’s really true." Although Dreya liked that girl, her face changed again, "You’ve disappointed me too much. If you did anything to betray me, I can’t bear to kill you, I would have no choice but ... to slice you up into pieces to accompany me."

Dreya continued flipping through the book.

"Into pieces, huh ..."

Liszt was too tired to move now, deciding to just lie there and sleep.

Now was not the time to think about these things. Since Goria was already handled, only Caroso was left.

Should he just kill this Madman?

Liszt was in a dilemma; he actually admired this man somewhat, at least from Caroso’s standpoint, he was truly a real man.

This time... it would really be truly unrighteous.

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