Chapter 157: Take the ship

Chapter 157: Take the Ship

Silas turned and saw a man standing behind him. He wore the outfit of a Detective. At first, Silas thought that he was there to arrest him.

Murphy simply lifted his fedora and gave him a simple nod. "I have been sent here."

Silas took a long breath, then took a few steps back and bowed. "Oh, may I know who you are?"

"Murphy Law, a Detective. Someone told me that you need help, so I came to let you escape and safely take you to Bloodborne Sea."

Hearing that, Silas’ eyes widened, his mind racing with thought. ’No way... could it be that Mr. Mysteries had manipulated this guy to do the work? He is... a terrifying being.’ Although he nodded at Murphy and spoke. "Mr. Law, so what’s the plan?"

The Detective walked forward and gave him a gesture to follow.

In a while, they stopped near the ticket agent, and Murphy bought two tickets before quickly moving toward the nearest ship that showed the number written on the ticket as he pointed toward it. "We will leave for Greenwood Island and from there... I heard there are quite a few pirates." Murphy gave him a wide maddening smile that clearly said what he had planned.

Silas momentarily thought for a second before asking. "So we are going to kill some pirates for their ship?"

"Of course."

"I’m willing to do that since I’m already on their hitman list."

With that, they quickly entered the ship; Murphy quietly checked his revolver and then moved in.

The interior of the large ship swallowed them in a maze of dark mahogany and tarnished brass. Low-hanging whale-oil lamps swayed gently with the roll of the sea as the air inside turned thick and heavy with the scent of salt-damp wool, coal smoke, and engine grease.

Every step they took resonated with the deep thrumming of the steam pistons deep in the ship’s belly that seemed to pulse right through the soles of Silas’ boots.

Murphy’s expression shifted slightly as he maintained himself while the ship moved alongside the low waves of the sea.

People gathered around a public place, their hands holding the forks as they quietly ate the food that had various sweet items, buns, fishes, freshly cooked pork meat, and ginger beer alongside some butter alcohols.

The whole dining hall seemed alive as the lantern illuminated the room with soft light. Although the hall was suffocating and warmer from the outside world, as the ship moved further, the damp cold air of the ocean slowly made the hall cool.

Within a few hours, the ship stopped near Greenwood Island, which was not really an island in the normal sense but a city built in the sea.

As the door opened, some passengers stepped out, followed by Murphy and Silas, who had been talking for a while about their plans.

Outside, both their gazes first lay on a ship, smaller than the one they traveled. It had a black flag with a skull printed in the center.

Murphy tilted his head, holding the rim of his fedora over his eyes. The maddening smile from before had vanished, replaced by the cool, calculating detachment typical of an experienced Ascended.

"A standard single-masted brig." Murphy murmured, his voice barely carrying over the sloshing of the waves against the harbor’s moss-covered stone pillars. "Judging by the structural craft and the lack of official maritime registry marks, it seemed to belong to the ’Black Skull’ pirate crew. A minor faction, likely backed by a low-Ordinal Ascended."

Silas adjusted the collar of his coat, trying to shield himself from the salty wind that swept across Greenwood Island. His spiritual intuition, honed by his Authority, faintly stirred. He could feel a subtle, unsettling malice radiating from the direction of the pirate ship.

A low-ordinal Ascended... Silas thought, his heart pounding as he glanced toward the pier. ’Even a low-ordinal is not to be underestimated. In this world, carelessness is the fastest route to meet a miserable end.’

"How do we proceed?" Silas asked, keeping his voice low and his posture casual, as if they were merely two tourists admiring the scenery. He secretly slipped his hand into his pocket, his fingers brushing against his charms he had stolen from the previous thieves to reassure himself.

Murphy watched quietly and didn’t answer immediately, then reached into his vest pocket, pulled out a silver pocket watch, and clicked it open. After staring at the ticking hands for three seconds, he snapped it shut.

"The local authorities here seemed corrupt and bribed into blindness by the various pirate factions. We may have a few minutes before the port guards change shifts and the fog rolls in from the Bloodborne Sea."

He turned his gaze toward a dimly lit tavern situated right at the edge of the pier. Loud, rowdy laughter and the clinking of ale mugs spilled out from its open doors.

A cruel curve returned to the corners of Murphy’s lips. "The captain and his core crew are currently enjoying their last meal. We will board the ship first, eliminate the watchmen silently, and prepare a proper... reception."

Silas nodded, his mind rapidly analyzing the situation alongside Murphy. He couldn’t help but marvel again at the terrifying foresight of the Mysteries. To have manipulated a skilled Detective into his path at the exact moment he needed to escape — such a grand arrangement felt like a deity casually moving a chess piece across a board of continents.

Hiding his trepidation beneath a calm facade, Silas heaved a long sigh, letting his mind settle upon the place, and spoke. "Lead the way, Mr. Law."

With quiet stealth, the two figures melted into the shadows, moving toward the unsuspecting pirate ship.

Silas kept his footsteps light to match with Murphy Law’s perfectly as the cold, slimy moisture of the port air clung to his skin, carrying the sickening stench of rotting seaweed and rusted iron.

As they approached the single-masted brig, Silas activated his spiritual hearing to detect the voices.

He could easily hear the sound and manifest it as a physical line of colors. Two distinct emotional colors, dull yellow of boredom and the deep red of vulgar lust, flickered near the deck. He could hear them talk clearly now.

Two watchmen. Both were almost ordinary humans, or at most, Ordinal eleven of an Authority. Silas analyzed internally, his mind working with the cold detachment of a practiced Ascended.

Murphy Law suddenly stopped in the shadow of a stack of wooden cargo crates. Without turning his head, his voice drifted into Silas’s ears, muffled by the sound of the crashing waves.

"Of course, the ocean is always greedier than man, Mr. Silas. When boarding a vessel uninvited, one must always pay the toll in silence."

Murphy moved without rushing; rather, his body seemed to naturally blend into the blind spots of the swaying oil lanterns hanging from the ship’s rigging. He climbed the damp rope ladder with the agility of a spectral cat.

Behind him, using his Silence Authority, Silas moved without any sound.

"Let’s take over it; move when I say." Murphy pointed a silent finger toward him as he watched the ship from the top.

At the bottom, two men sat with a lantern in the middle as they drank alcohol while laughing at each other and throwing around the glass bottles.