Black Sail
Chapter 128: CXXVIII. When Oranges Are Bewildered

Chapter 128: CXXVIII. When Oranges Are Bewildered

The newspapers published by the adventurer’s guild are a pain in the ass, seeing as they operate on platforms across various countries, and matters involving the nobles are untouchable.

The reason so many countries allow the adventurer’s guild to establish themselves there, aside from the tax payments to the local authorities, is largely because they absorb the idle members of society, reducing unemployment rates.

Low-level adventurers are a peculiar breed.

Boiling instant noodles, crashing parties—like gambling addicts hitting rehab. Taking out loans, scampering from place to place, steady as the grass over a grave.

If these fellas aren’t given something to do, wouldn’t they turn the world upside down after too long?

Besides, have these folks kill some Magic Beasts or bump into some desperadoes on the road—when accidents happen, it can lighten the state’s burden.

The main readers of the newspaper are these cavemen.

For the circulation of the newspapers, every columnist has KPIs to meet.

Big news doesn’t happen every time, so they’ve adopted new tactics, writing whatever people love to read.

It’s nothing more than the simplest of sensory stimuli, sex and violence being eternal themes.

So, each issue of the newspaper either features a psychotic killer or some celebrity and musician spending the night together, climbing Wushan, ending up with a bun in the oven.

And then there’s the Bounty Hunters column.

The Cross Alliance and the adventurer’s guild have a collaboration, issuing warrants for notorious bandits.

They let adventurers moonlight as Bounty Hunters to grind outdoor bosses.

In the eastern reports of the Beima Duchy, the Black Sail crew has been gloriously mentioned multiple times.

The guild’s newspapers are divided into public reports and local reports. Public reports are weekly compilations of major events from around the world, relatively more serious. Local reports cater to regional differences, customizing content, and are fantasy magazines filled with rumors, gossips, abstract jokes, and all sorts of bizarre news.

Goria, previously known as a Heroic Level adventurer, naturally became the guild’s starlet—fierce and fine-looking.

Newspaper editors naturally hyped her up, with master artists sketching sensual portraits and seasoned copywriters fabricating fake news.

Goria could transition to becoming a Minstrel even if she quit being an adventurer. Despite lacking musical talent, the immense traffic was there, ready to be cashed in on. Collaborate with a hotshot musician, and she’d shoot straight to Heaven, marrying into a noble family with ease.

Who knows how many low-level adventurer bros buy the paper just to pray in solitude during the quiet of the night, yet some are so poor they can’t bear to part with a copper coin for it, resorting to sharing among themselves.

Goria even made it into the annual Adventurer Goddess anthology—yes, that’s how absurd the adventurer’s newspapers are. They even put together a sexy goddess annual during the holidays, all for the bold and beautiful figures.

Inside a clothing store in Heaven Port.

It was rare for Goria to wear such clothes, shedding her Leather Armor.

"I just don’t feel comfortable."

Goria, looking in the full-length mirror at the stranger reflected, her cheeks flushed with a shy awkwardness.

"This suits you quite well, doesn’t it? Your temperament is perfect for this kind of simple and elegant dress. Your skin is a bit rough, but that’s okay, just pamper it at home for a while."

Dreya stood behind Goria, her hands reaching around to help fasten the buttons at the neckline, her fingers accidentally tracing her neck, and then she rested her chin on Goria’s shoulder, eyeing her with interest.

While Dreya had a soft spot for Liszt’s "blood affection," Goria was no less a premium dessert.

Being so close, a hint of pink blossomed on Goria’s neck too, a wonderful strange scent wafting from that blood-red hair, soaking into the heart—a stirring sense of restlessness rose as Dreya pressed tighter against her.

The shopkeeper, seeing through it all without saying anything, knew that Heaven Port had many such people; nearly every religion’s dogma and state law considered this taboo and heresy.

But this place was different, emotions could run wild.

Besides...

This girl, apparently around sixteen, was just too mischievous.

Fafna showed great interest in the mannequins in the window display, and with some sort of monster power, she had torn off the wooden dummy’s arms.

"It’s a dummy, hehe."

Waving the arm, Fafna flashed the shopkeeper a confident and hearty smile.

The landlady’s forehead was bulging with veins.

Goria thought of Dreya’s earlier invitation. She had gone to her house, where there were no other people, and she felt that it was somewhat improper, regretting it at the last moment.

"In a moment, I still have to take Fafna back to the hotel."

Goria shifted her shoulders, forcing herself to calm down. She was only allowing Fafna to take temporary shelter here, rather than becoming Lostra’s killing machine. But falling into the hands of Black Sail was obviously not a good thing either. Pirates were no better than those regular armies. It was just a temporary measure. When Fafna matured emotionally, she wouldn’t stay in this Pirate Nest.

Dreya could easily guess her thoughts. The actual behavior of each person is filled with complex motives behind them.

Her own relationship with Liszt was very delicate.

Although Liszt talked about divorce and living their separate lives, old feelings remained—the ultimate scoundrel’s same old tricks.

It was because he knew he could die at any time.

Dreya had long seen through Liszt’s mind. He just liked playing with his desperado mindset, acting tough, playing the hard man, liking to hide his troubles.

If she really tried to forcibly keep him from engaging in his life-risking business, she couldn’t even maintain the delicate relationship they had now. Liszt would cut through the tangle quickly with her, and drawing swords on each other was quite possible.

He had things he must do, and despite her worries, she could only let him go, like a kite held by only a frail string.

It might be said that all interpersonal relationships in the world are held up by such kite strings—never truly close, always near yet distant.

The only thing she could do was to hold on to that string tightly.

And to hold onto Goria, the kite, it took more than her own charm; it also took Fafna.

Of course, Goria wouldn’t let the Little Dragon Girl stay in the Pirate Nest. It wasn’t a place for an ordinary girl.

"What’s the hurry? Look at her mischievous antics; she needs to be taught a lesson. She probably can’t read. Let’s go back to my house together. My maid can teach her to read and write. She used to be a private school teacher, very talented. That way, she can gradually leave her childish ways. There’s still plenty of time; we’ll need to stay here for two or three years at least."

Dreya played a heart-stirring card.

"Private school teacher?"

Goria was somewhat surprised. Dreya’s home must be quite large, and her own level of cultural sophistication naturally couldn’t qualify her as a teacher. It was a good idea to have a reliable person to educate Fafna, to sort right from wrong, instead of behaving like a child all the time.

"Mmm, she is certified, with an advanced degree in history."

Dreya replied.

Half an hour later.

The three women returned to Dreya’s small manor.

Fafna was arranged to be with the maid.

While Goria, looking at the countless pieces of clothing and jewelry in Dreya’s wardrobe, was a bit dazzled, but the sudden appearance of men’s clothes, Liszt’s size, made her feel uneasy.

"You would suit earrings; let me pierce your ears for you."

Dreya, noticing Goria’s gaze on the jewelry cabinet on the wardrobe shelf, made the suggestion.

"No, I’m just looking. Besides, it’s inconvenient to wear them during a fight."

Goria refused.

"What fight? You’re protected by me here. You should always try new things."

Dreya had already taken out the earring needle.

"Hmm..."

Goria obediently sat on the footstool at the end of the bed. Dreya was very professional and quickly completed the task. The pain was nothing to Goria.

But Dreya didn’t use a silk scarf to wipe away the blood that had formed at the base of the ear.

Suddenly...

"What are you doing?"

"Can’t let it go to waste."

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