Chapter 143: Skull Lords’ Pirates [2]

"Is that information absolute truth, Ariana?" Pirate Admiral Jinjutu Medvadas questioned, raising a single, scarred eyebrow as his one good eye locked onto the blonde courier.

The young blonde woman, whose name was Ariana, offered a firm, steady nod.

Her facial expression remained completely ice-cold and indifferent, betraying neither fear nor hesitation before the terrifying warlord.

Jinjutu let out a long, rumbling sigh that smelled of stale tobacco and cheap alcohol.

With a sudden, forceful shove, he pushed the terrified, half-naked women off his lap and heavy thighs, rising slowly to his full, imposing height.

Standing tall at an astonishing six feet and nine inches, Jinjutu was an absolute monolith of raw, destructive muscle.

His sleek, jet-black hair cascaded in thick strands all the way down past his waist, framing a face carved from stone and marred by the deep leather eye-patch over his missing left eye.

His massive arms were completely wrapped from wrist to shoulder in intricate, writhing green serpent tattoos, while his bare, broad back bore the terrifying, sprawling ink of a giant, crying human skull whose jaws seemed to stretch across his entire spine.

The physical presence radiating from Jinjutu Medvadas was nothing short of suffocating.

He was not merely a pirate captain; he was a true, apex Sword Grandmaster class Ranker—a walking natural disaster capable of leveling fortifications single-handedly.

In Craig von Darkstar’s previous life, before the apocalyptic fractured timelines had fully unspooled, Pirate Admiral Jinjutu Medvadas had ruled the Skull Lords with an iron fist.

In that dark era, Jinjutu had waged a catastrophic, continent-spanning war against the rival Pirate Admiral of the Black Bear Pirates.

That brutal naval conflict had torn the entire Southern Gulf completely in half, slaughtering tens of thousands of combatants and civilians alike.

In the end, Jinjutu had emerged victorious, ruthlessly plunging the Black Bear Pirates into absolute oblivion after personally hunting down and decapitating their boss.

It was precisely because of that historical slaughter that Craig—in his current grand strategy—mentally pruned the underworld lists, treating the pirate syndicates as five active powers instead of six, knowing the Black Bear faction’s ultimate, bloody fate at Jinjutu’s hands.

Without breaking eye contact with Ariana, Jinjutu stepped heavily across the floorboards.

He reached out with a massive, calloused hand toward a grotesque centerpiece resting on a black obsidian table: a polished, human skull with a jagged crack across the frontal bone—the actual skull of a defeated rival admiral he had slain years prior.

Jinjutu picked up an open bottle of high-proof southern vodka and poured a generous, splashing stream of clear alcohol directly into the hollow cavity of the broken skull.

Without missing a beat, he lifted the macabre chalice to his lips and took a deep, burning sip, letting the liquor wash down his throat.

Throughout the entire process, Ariana stood completely silent, her posture rigid and unfazed.

The four concubines scattered across the crimson-velvet sofa also held their breath, keeping their mouths firmly shut.

In the domain of the Skull Lords, nobody dared speak out of turn when the Admiral was calculating war.

Once Jinjutu had finished drinking from his skull chalice, he lowered the bone and fixed his bloodshot, piercing gaze back onto the blonde courier.

"Whose intelligence network generated this specific lead?" Jinjutu demanded, his voice vibrating with low, gravelly authority.

"How reliable is the source?"

Ariana answered with cold, clinical efficiency.

"The intel originated from Marthella, Boss. One of her bonded reconnaissance storm-birds—a falcon patrolling the upper maritime boundaries of the Northern Ire Sea—managed to intercept and overhear encrypted spiritual whispers broadcasted across the ether."

Jinjutu narrowed his remaining eye, a dark, calculating smirk touching his lips.

He gave a slow, approving nod. "If the information came directly from Marthella’s flock, then it is gospel truth. That old hag’s spiritual avian network has never steered us wrong."

A dangerous, greedy light flickered deep within Jinjutu’s dark eye as he began doing the mental math.

A low rumble of laughter escaped his chest.

"Ten thousand barrels of refined alchemical oil..." Jinjutu muttered to himself, shaking his head in wicked amusement.

"Do you have any idea what that kind of volume commands on the black market? That isn’t just cargo; that is a literal mountain of wealth. It will easily fetch us at least five hundred thousand gold coins if we fence it through the eastern syndicates. That is a generational fortune sitting in the hull of a single ship."

He snapped his head back toward Ariana, his tone shifting into military mobilization. "Which of our vassal pirate fleets and allied branch clans are currently docked, refueled, and available for immediate deployment?"

Ariana didn’t even need to consult a ledger. Her mind was a steel trap. "The Green Mamba Pirates and the Cold Blade Pirates are both anchored in the outer lagoons, fully provisioned, and waiting for deployment orders, Boss."

Jinjutu grunted, slamming the skull chalice back down onto the obsidian table.

"Splendid."

He pointed a thick, tattooed finger toward the door. "Listen closely, Ariana. You are to issue immediate, encrypted mobilization orders to both the Green Mamba and the Cold Blade fleets. But they must move with absolute, surgical discretion.

They are to slip out of the southern coves under the cover of a moonless tide."

Jinjutu’s expression turned ruthless. "The other supreme pirate factions—especially the bastards of the Cult of Nadia and the Sons of the Storms—must not catch even a whiff of this operation.

If word leaks that a half-million-gold-coin prize is drifting into our waters, every cutthroat from here to the eastern seaboard will come swarming like sharks."

He leaned forward, planting his massive fists on the table. "Once that concealed merchant warship finishes its transit across the Northern Ire Sea and officially steps its bow across the boundary line into the open waters of the Creptun Ocean... our vassal fleets will pounce.

They are to surround the vessel, board her decks, slaughter the crew, and drag that oil cargo back to our island vaults. No survivors, no loose ends."

Ariana dipped her head in a crisp, obedient bow, her voice unwavering. "It shall be done precisely as you command, Admiral. I will issue the deployment commands to the captains this instant."

Jinjutu gave a short, dismissing nod. "Good. Leave my sight."

Without a single second of hesitation, Ariana turned smoothly on her heel and strode toward the heavy iron doors.

The two brute guards pulled the panels open, and she stepped out into the torch-lit corridor, letting the heavy doors slam shut behind her.

The moment Ariana vanished from the room, the heavy, war-room atmosphere instantly evaporated, replaced by a thick, suffocating wave of crude, primal desire.

Pirate Admiral Jinjutu turned his massive, muscular frame around, letting his single, bloodshot eye drift back toward the crimson sofa and the large bed behind it.

The four women—stripped entirely bare, their skin gleaming with a light sheen of sweat under the dim wall sconces—remained huddled together on the mattress.

Their chests rose and fell rapidly.

They bit their lower lips hungrily, their eyes locked shamelessly onto Jinjutu’s towering, impossibly muscular physique, their gazes practically dripping with a mixture of raw terror and intense, unadulterated lust.

They knew what kind of monster he was, yet the sheer dominance he exuded acted like a narcotic.

Jinjutu let out a low, gravelly growl deep in his throat.

He reached down with his massive hands, gripping the waistband of his heavy black leather trousers.

With a slow, deliberate pull, he stripped them off, letting them pool on the floor around his boots.

He stepped forward, licking his thick lips with a predatory grin as he towered over the trembling, eager women.

"Well, well, my little pets..." Jinjutu murmured, his voice rumbling like an approaching avalanche as he reached out to claim his prize.

"The strategic planning is done. Now... let us have some real fun, shall we?"