Black Sail
Chapter 365: CCCLXV. Death God

Chapter 365: CCCLXV. Death God

One month later.

Western Continent.

Narrow Sea.

Spring had arrived, breathing new life into everything, and the sunlight grew more intense. On the coast, the burning sun was already beginning to sear people’s skin.

The city where the Cross Alliance headquarters were located.

Forgotten Port.

The sea shimmered with a golden sheen, with passenger ships coming and going incessantly—a peculiar sight, as there were even more passenger ships than merchant ships.

This port was situated at the intersection of the Narrow Sea, with thoroughfares in all directions; from here, one could quickly reach various nations by sea.

The city thrived immensely.

Neutral Country, Neutral Harbor, labeled by major newspapers as the city with the highest death toll, with at least a thousand people dying each day.

It wasn’t a result of chaos in public safety.

If safety was a concern here, then there would be no safe places left in the world.

This was a paradise for bounty hunters; catching a major criminal was like cashing in a lottery ticket, which of course couldn’t be done in ordinary stores—it had to be handled at the centers for the gambling on murders.

Without mentioning places like the East Sea and the Great Wetland, those were far and remote, impossible to govern the desperadoes—couldn’t the criminals of the Western Continent be controlled?

Criminals awaiting death, give the executioner a hand!

Every day, criminals were executed here.

The traitors of the Life Weaving Society, Golden-eyed Demon Hunters, Kun Lan, had already arrived here.

He had friends all over the world, after he finished messing around in one place, he would move on to another.

Forgotten Port.

A sky-high restaurant.

These so-called sky-high restaurants weren’t floating in the air; large cities like Duguli had them, Aran had money to burn, but Forgotten Port was still somewhat lacking.

It was merely a high-rise building that overlooked the entire city, housing a rooftop restaurant.

"The inland scenery is truly beautiful."

Kun Lan gazed at the orderly and classical tall buildings of Forgotten Port, where real estate was no small expense—it was among the highest in the world. A three-bedroom, two-living room apartment could cost fifty to sixty Golden Dragons, and that didn’t even include interior decoration.

He was accompanied by a black-haired woman dressed as a magician, the female mage looking at him with an expression filled with deep and complex emotions.

"How long do you plan to stay this time?"

The female mage asked while sipping through a straw, fashionably donning a leather collar—up to now, such an item was considered trendy.

"I’m here to find my friend."

Kun Lan’s brim was pulled down low.

The female magician was tempted to hit someone, speaking discontentedly, "That executioner?"

She felt foolish; with a beautiful woman right here, he wasn’t taking any notice, instead looking for an obscure freak in the port.

"Yes, if I time it right, the Continent Martial Arts Competition will be held in about five or six months."

"So what... Do you fancy trying your luck?"

The female mage was genuinely intrigued.

The Emperor subjugated the world by slaying the Dragon, using martial prowess to prove one’s worth.

Even the most notorious criminals, those with heinous crimes, as long as they entered the competition, the Emperor’s protection ensured nobody dared to capture them during the contest.

If you won the championship, even if you were Doringger, Diaz, or the recent high-profile Liszt, you’d be pardoned outright.

But if you couldn’t win...

The Continent Martial Arts Competition was not merely for show; the skilled participants with culture and restraint might spare their opponents’ lives, but the merciless ones would kill without a second thought.

Once you stepped into the martial arena, your life and death were no one’s concern.

"Let’s give it a try. I might not win, but my friend definitely won’t have any problems."

"Are you referring to that executioner? How is that possible? He’s just a mute."

"You don’t understand, he is... the Death God."

"Is that what you’re saying?"

The female mage was astounded, unable to close her mouth. Kun Lan was undoubtedly among the top contenders of the continent, and for him to refer to someone as the Death God, she was now quite eager to go see for herself, realizing she had never actually seen the man with her own eyes.

"Take me to see him."

The female mage pleaded.

Half an hour later.

On the outskirts of Forgotten Port, a desolate piece of land, neglected by all—only a few dilapidated houses stood, resembling the dwellings of scavengers.

The muddy ground was littered with puddles from a recent rainfall.

Executioner work was a trade of precision; if one failed to decapitate with a single axe-strike, one could expect reprimands from those in power above.

Not just anyone deserved the axe; common criminals could be hanged at the market execution block to vent public rage, entertaining the masses with a bit of stone-throwing as they died.

Only notorious figures required the full procedure: guillotine, pre-execution speeches, executioner—an all-in-one package to uphold the dignity of justice.

The scorching sun.

This wasteland was particularly stifling hot.

As Kun Lan and the female mage approached, a flock of crows perched on the rooftops cried out, slicing across the sky.

"This eerie place is really creepy."

The female mage felt goosebumps, finding even the daytime here uncomfortably sinister.

Kun Lan searched all the houses but found no sign of anyone. Where could that person be?

Only one place to search.

Forgotten Port.

The thirteenth execution site.

Around the guillotine, the crowd cheered wildly, fury swelled, their eyes ablaze with rage at the criminal on the stand who was detestably guilty of murdering women.

And the Executioner responsible for this man.

Strangely eerie.

His limbs were as elongated as a stick insect’s, his proportions monstrous. He always wore a bloodstained leather straitjacket, donning the sinister black sackcloth hood of an Executioner.

In his hand, he held a guillotine.

This man boasted a unique skill.

Noon had arrived.

He lifted his elongated arms, raising the axe high above his head, its blade glistening sharply.

Snap!

The head fell off, rolling several times on the ground, yet no blood seeped from the neck, much like the surface tension on a glass of water.

It was as if the criminal was unaware of his own death, the commands issued by his head before dying still controlling the body. The headless corpse, no longer constrained by a neck, stood up, staggered a few steps, and then fell dead to the ground, blood gushing forth.

"Indeed, he’s here."

Kun Lan had found his old friend.

Twenty minutes later.

On the barren land where the Executioner lived, Kun Lan spoke to him about his own matters, about his experiences in the East Sea.

The Executioner never removed his burlap hood, not even to sleep. Should the restless spirits recognize his face, they would seek revenge.

The Female Mage on the way had bought a newspaper, absorbed in reading it.

One piece of news within it seemed unbelievable to her...

The East Sea had a new ruler.

The front-page headline was a warrant featuring Liszt’s photo.

"Have you seen this man?"

The Female Mage passed the newspaper to Kun Lan, who had just returned from the East Sea.

Kun Lan looked at the warrant in the newspaper.

"How could this be? With those injuries, he should be dead."

Kun Lan was utterly shocked, he immediately passed the newspaper to the Executioner, continuing to relay his East Sea experiences.

The Executioner was mute, unable to speak.

After looking for a while his hands began to tremble.

"What’s the matter?"

Kun Lan asked, too bizarre, he had never seen him this way.

The Executioner placed the newspaper on the ground and swung his axe, plunging it right into... the scar across Liszt’s face that spanned from ear to ear.

He then emitted a cry incomprehensible to the normal person, a shout from someone without a tongue.

Kun Lan realized something.

Someone... had deceived the Death God.

At this very moment.

Heaven Port.

Within a ten-story banquet hall.

The decor was overwhelmingly luxurious, with the white noise of water curtain fountains never ceasing.

All the core members of Black Sail were sitting upright in their suits, desperadoes one and all, and many allies who lingered here to discuss matters of interest also came to see.

Only Liszt leaned back in his chair tactically, legs crossed, smoking a cigar, dressed in a white fur coat, putting on an act.

Half a month prior.

The Far East Island Ship Merchant Association, under various threats—hostage-taking, break-ins, store vandalizings—had no choice but to send a representative to Heaven Port.

To speak with the new East Sea King.

What they didn’t expect was.

Liszt...

Was even darker than Doringger!

Meaning, henceforth the East Sea would be peaceful, with no more piracy, only needing to settle protection fees quarterly; no more loss of life, from then on, world peace.

Twenty thousand Gold Dragons every quarter, Liszt told all the merchants of Far East to pool the money, and then the association could hand it to him. They had the capacity to organize, to all live happily.

"Are you joking? Paying you twenty thousand Golden Dragons every quarter, that’s utterly unfair!"

The deputy chairman of the Captain Association felt it was outrageous.

It would be better just to rob them!

Liszt paused for a moment.

"Killing back and forth, nobody wants that, you should know.

In the East Sea, nobody talks about fairness with me, Liszt."

...

...

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(End of Volume One: Turmoil in the East Sea)