Chapter 425 A Historic Breakthrough!

Early morning, Barracuda Bay.

The sky was just beginning to brighten. Illuminated by the rising sun, the morning mist scattered light across the sea, casting shimmering golden reflections over the water.

Unlike the noble lords in the White Cliff District still deep in their dreams, the commoners of the Saltwater District had long since begun their daily toil.

As the true heart of Barracuda Bay, Wave-Breaking Wharf was currently experiencing its busiest, liveliest moment of the day.

The sharp, fishy tang of the sea hung in the air. The curses of sailors, the work chants of porters, the shouts of vendors, and the endless cries of circling seagulls infused the port with a vigorous, chaotic vitality.

The deep indigo wool of her dress swayed gently in the wind, a color dark enough to hide the inevitable stains of taverns and ports.

The skirt didn't trail; it ended sharply about six inches below the knee, revealing delicate, pale ankles and a pair of flat, dark brown leather boots.

Her steps weren't particularly light, but they betrayed a deep familiarity with the port. With a swish of her skirt, those small boots sidestepped two puddles of dubious origin, weaving fluidly through the dense crowd before coming to a halt before a faded canvas awning.

"Take a look at these, all fresh catches brought up just this morning!"

Scales still clinging to the back of his hand, Thom the fishmonger casually hoisted a sea bass from the wooden barrel in front of him. Letting the thrashing tail splash salt water across his face, he called out, "Gifts from the tide for a hardworking, generous soul like yourself. Have a look, respected Madam Hera."

Her dark green, curly hair tied back simply and efficiently with a leather cord, Hera crouched. She pressed her index finger against the side of the sea bass, leaving a shallow indentation that quickly sprang back.

Meanwhile, her emerald eyes swept over the rest of the seafood on the stall.

Having done business with him many times, she knew Thom was a relatively honest merchant. Though he occasionally showed the shrewd calculation typical of the Saltwater District, he never slipped up on the quality of his goods.

And Hera's years of experience in the port told her this batch was pristine. No issues here.

"Just... five silver coins, and they're all yours, beautiful and kind Madam Hera!"

Sensing the interest of the Three-Legged Sea Dog's owner, Thom decisively offered a quote slightly above the market average, deliberately leaving room for her to haggle.

Normally, Hera would frown at such a price and engage in a "friendly" tug-of-war over appearance and long-term discounts. This would last until Thom started packing up his stall, grumbling bitterly that she was "scraping his bones," at which point they would finally reach a mutually satisfying price.

But today, the equally shrewd woman had uncharacteristically lost her appetite for bargaining.

"I'll take it all." Hera's voice was exceptionally crisp. "The usual rules. Pick the best ones, clean them up, and deliver them to the back kitchen of the Three-Legged Sea Dog before noon. Put it on the tab; I'll settle it at the end of the month."

Thom looked up at the woman before him and blinked. A belly full of compliments and bargaining tactics had suddenly become useless, leaving him disoriented.

He froze for a moment before recovering, a fawning smile plastering his face.

"Of course! Of course! I'll send them over right away!"

"I guarantee I'll have all this seafood sorted out perfectly, cleaner than an offering to His Majesty the King!"

Hera gave a slight nod in response.

But her gaze had already moved past the vendor's small stall and the crowded pier, drifting toward the distant sea, its surface sliced into fragments by masts and rigging.

Carrying the distinct salty tang of the sea, the damp breeze brushed her cheeks, lifting a few curly, dark green strands by her ear.

Ships of all sizes entered and left the harbor—some towering, some cumbersome, some nimble... yet the familiar form of the Black Gull was nowhere to be seen.

According to the schedule, it should have squeezed into the berth at the third pier no later than sunset yesterday.

The Black Gull wasn't large, just an ordinary cargo ship, but it was sturdy and reliable. Captain Gregory had worked with her for many years; he was a steady, experienced helmsman who never missed a beat.

This trip was just a delivery to Cliff Rock Island, a small island not far from Barracuda Bay—a ten-day round trip at most. There was no danger.

And yet...

Hera couldn't help but recall the intelligence she had gathered through her channels in the Association over ten days ago, right after the Black Gull had left port.

An adventurer crew going by the name Flying Fish Oil Barrel had taken a hunting quest on Cliff Rock Island from the Association.

They shared the same destination as the Black Gull, and even their departure times were close.

Hera knew very well what this meant.

It meant there was a very high probability the two ships would run into each other during the voyage.

In fact, even if the Black Gull stayed at Cliff Rock Island for an extra two days to rest, it was highly likely to cross paths with the Flying Fish Oil Barrel crew arriving for their mission.

And the Flying Fish Oil Barrel adventurer squad...

To Hera, the name was far from unfamiliar.

They might not be famous figures spanning the archipelagos, but their captain, Oily Hand Bourne, had quite a bit of notoriety in the Southern Archipelagos. Even in many circles of Class Grade adventurers, his name was frequently heard.

Of course, the talk was mostly about his infamy.

As the controller of one of the main intelligence hubs in Barracuda Bay, Hera clearly knew what these renowned adventurers did behind the scenes.

After all, even she herself often patronized the black markets where stolen goods were fenced.

If a pirate-like adventurer crew ran into a "fat sheep" like the Black Gull on the open sea, Hera refused to believe they wouldn't be tempted.

And against a professional adventurer squad like the Flying Fish Oil Barrel—fully staffed, powerfully equipped, and even boasting a Rare Spellcaster holding down the fort...

The few adventurers from the Silver Claw Osprey squad escorting the Black Gull likely wouldn't have the slightest ability to resist.

The only variables were the two adventurers who had temporarily joined the group at her request. Even though she held them in high regard—and one was suspected to have ties to a Legendary figure from years past—she still felt unsure.

She only hoped there wouldn't be too many complications and that everyone could return safely.

Her thoughts tangled in her mind. Beside her ear, Thom the fishmonger was still chattering away about recent rumors of fishmen appearing nearby and affecting the catch, but Hera couldn't take a word of it in.

She turned her head, taking one last look at the far end of the port to stare at the morning mist and sunlight where the sky met the sea.

She pursed her lips, not knowing what to think.

Lifting her skirt slightly, she was just about to turn and leave.

But right then, deep within the sea fog, the familiar silhouette of a ship rising and falling with the waves dimly entered her view.

She froze.

Her pupils contracted. Rising onto her tiptoes, she gazed out, instinctively trying to make out the details of the vessel.

But her eyesight simply wasn't that sharp. She hurriedly bid the fishmonger goodbye, told him to deliver the seafood to the tavern, and ducked into the crowd, squeezing her way toward the pier.

When Hera pushed through the throng and reached a spot near the water where the view was a bit more open, the distant ship had drawn closer, allowing her to clearly see the identifying features on its hull.

A three-masted sailing ship, grayish-brown all over, with a wooden figurehead of a seagull spreading its wings...

It was the Black Gull!

Hera couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

'It seems they didn't run into the Flying Fish Oil Barrel?'

'Or did they meet, but neither side fought?'

She pondered inwardly.

But before Hera could figure out why the Black Gull had been delayed these past few days, the wooden ship following quietly behind it like a shadow made her expression freeze.

'The Flying Fish Oil Barrel Ship?'

Why? Why were these two ships so close together, returning to port side by side?

Could it be...

The worst, most vile possibility surfaced in the tavern owner's mind.

Perhaps, just as she had guessed, the Black Gull and the Flying Fish Oil Barrel had met head-on during the voyage.

And faced with a "fat sheep," the Flying Fish Oil Barrel crew had naturally resorted to piracy.

The Black Gull's crew, along with its guards, had been slaughtered to a man.

The cargo had been looted, and the Black Gull itself had become the Flying Fish Oil Barrel crew's prize.

'But if it really is what I think, how dare they return to Barracuda Bay so openly?'

'Or is it that they don't know the Black Gull was transporting my goods?'

Thoughts flashed through Hera's mind like snowflakes.

She even began to consider whether she should negotiate with the Flying Fish Oil Barrel's captain, Oily Hand Bourne, regarding the Black Gull's fate once he disembarked.

Given her status as one of Barracuda Bay's main intelligence merchants, Bourne certainly wouldn't attack her.

But if Hera used this as an excuse to exact revenge, the consequences of making a total enemy out of the Flying Fish Oil Barrel would far outweigh the profits of this lost cargo.

On the other hand, from a reputation standpoint, if her goods were hijacked and the culprit walked away scot-free, what would the other adventurers in town think of her? If...

Hera remained caught in this mental storm.

The two ships, one in front and one behind, came to a quiet halt beside the pier.

Shadows milled about on the towering decks, and the gangways were slowly lowered from above.

Hera took a deep breath, suppressing her turbulent emotions.

Behind her, Thom the fishmonger packed up his stall and vanished into the crowd with hurried steps; she had already sent him back to the tavern to pass on a message. She needed backup.

She looked down and slightly adjusted her collar and cuffs, ensuring she looked presentable enough not to be underestimated.

Organizing her words in her mind, she stepped lightly toward the gangway.

Suddenly, Hera felt something was off.

Normally, adventurers on pirate ships who had endured a long life at sea would act unusually hyperactive after docking.

Often, before the ship was even steady, they would be howling and leaping from the deck one by one, as if breaking free from some kind of shackles.

But now, whether on the Black Gull or the Flying Fish Oil Barrel, the decks seemed unusually restrained, completely lacking the raucous demeanor those adventurers typically displayed.

"Whoosh..."

The sea breeze blew past, dragging Hera's consciousness back to reality.

At some point, a figure had appeared on the Flying Fish Oil Barrel's gangway.

She instantly tensed.

Hera stood on the pier and raised her head, clearly seeing the figure above.

All the thoughts in her mind solidified in an instant.

Two signature longswords jutted out, crossed behind his back. He wore no armor on his upper body, just a dark shirt that the sea breeze pressed tight against his skin, revealing the powerful muscle beneath.

With his back to the sun, his tall, slender figure seemed draped in shadow, save for the edges of his body radiating a glow under the morning light from behind.

His slightly long, messy hair whipped violently in the deck's sea breeze, yet his pitch-black eyes were as calm and still as the deep ocean.

"Xia... Xia Nan!?"

...

The bad news was that the Black Gull had encountered a sudden storm on the return trip, forcing them off their original course and making them spend a few extra days at sea.

The good news was that this storm might have been exactly what blew good luck Xia Nan's way. On the afternoon of the second day after the storm ended, at 3:27 and 18 seconds, using a professional fishing rod temporarily lent to him by Captain Gregory (which Xia Nan had already purchased as a souvenir), Xia Nan caught a grouper measuring three feet two inches and weighing about eighty kilograms, right in front of the Halfling Alton, Colin, and the numerous sailors cleaning the deck.

He had achieved a historic breakthrough!

That very day, he commissioned the Black Gull's cook and the Halfling Alton to put the grouper into the pot, along with the dried sea mushrooms brought back from Cliff Rock Village, to make a massive pot of fragrant, delicious mushroom fish stew.

Even now, Xia Nan remembered how he had first used unwanted Shark Beast scraps as chum, carefully observing the minute movements in the sea with his sharp Perception. After hooking it, he used Gravity Control to reduce the grouper's weight while applying Heavy Tide to the fishing rod, attempting to throw the target off balance. Finally, combining that with the force exertion techniques of Spinning Slash when pulling the rod... the wonderful sensation of forcefully dragging that grouper out of the water, and the fresh, savory taste of that first mouthful of fish soup.

Sure enough, his previous failures at fishing were just due to poor equipment and bad luck.

He actually had quite a talent for angling.

Once the time was right and he switched to professional gear, he reaped the rewards immediately.

He even felt that the time spent sailing these past few days was too short. He hadn't fished enough.

If he stayed on the ship a while longer, who knew? His attainments in angling might progress even further.

And just as Xia Nan was inwardly lamenting that this world didn't have cameras or the like, meaning he couldn't take a photo as a souvenir or post it to show off—and the grouper itself had already been eaten in his gluttony...

On the pier beneath the gangway, a familiar figure entered his sight.

"Hera, what a coincidence?"