Klein said nothing further, nor did he pay any attention to Daniz. He simply tapped his hat, took hold of his suitcase, and walked toward the gangway, descending step by step. Really letting me go? Daniz stood on the deck, puzzled. Though he had anticipated this outcome all along—ever since he'd been passed over at Damaris Port, just as Generalman Sparrow had done—he still found it hard to believe, feeling that everything had unfolded too simply, too effortlessly. No matter what, I'm worth 3,000 gold pounds—no, that's only the reward issued by Roon! Isn't Generalman Sparrow a madman? How could he have overlooked such a substantial sum right in front of him? It didn't make sense… Ah, indeed, a normal person simply couldn't comprehend a madman. Gradually regaining his composure, Daniz took his suitcase and carefully descended the gangway, stepping onto the port's concrete floor. He straightened his back, lifted his head, and glanced at the silhouette of Germán Sparro, only to find that the man had indeed not turned around, moving steadily along the road toward the Sea Defense Street. Danyz couldn't afford to delay; he immediately turned and departed via a different route, frequently changing direction and using obstacles to glance back, determined to avoid being followed. Soon, he arrived at the row of buildings adjacent to the wharf warehouses. Germán Sparro had not treated me as a decoy—after careful consideration, Danyz finally relaxed. At that moment, he felt truly free, no longer being treated as a mere servant or subordinate of the pirate admiral's. He could already foresee that tomorrow would be splendid, with a whole group of people eager to flatter him and vie to serve him! Danyz knocked cheerfully on the door, with three long knocks followed by three short ones, in a steady rhythm. Hey, Germán. Sparo asked me to relay the pirates' contact points in Bayam, and I'm certain I only mentioned the ones who aren't on good terms with us—absolutely didn't see it coming that our "Golden Dream" crew's contact point is right at the dock. Daniz patted his nose and breathed in deeply, savoring the crisp sea breeze before the rain fell. Beyond the spice trade, the prostitution industry stands as another major pillar of the Rosedale Islands. From grand to modest, from bright to discreet, brothels of all sizes dot the landscape, fully satisfying the desires of the strong, sea-going men. As for the female pirates, they need not worry—whenever they wish, they can always find fulfillment. After all, there are always more mouths to feed than there are slices of meat to share, and on the sea, where the storm god is widely revered, women have historically been relatively scarce. Likewise, underground transactions involving rare materials and esoteric disciplines are quite frequent, with several active circles. Still, the smaller ports remain preferable—we never fear being discovered. We can sit comfortably in the taverns, engaging in heated debates with the adventurers across the table, even getting into a fight. As long as no serious incident occurs and no lives are lost, the local official extraordinary beings simply pretend not to notice. Indeed, with their own capabilities, if they truly wished to intervene, they would likely incur significant risks. Daniz thought this with a half-sarcastic tone. At that moment, he heard footsteps, saw the door creak open, and caught sight of a familiar face. "Old man, haven't had a drink today?" Daniz greeted with a smile. Standing at the doorway was one of the key contacts for the "Golden Dream" in the Rothesdale Islands—Old Linn. Clearing his throat, Old Linn stepped aside. Daniz stepped into the dimly lit room, and suddenly his nose twitched. He smelled the aroma of "Lerangzi" wine. No—Old Linn preferred the locally produced "Bayam Blackland"! The thought struck him with a jolt. Then, he saw someone standing up from behind him—tall, dark-skinned, muscular, with curly hair resembling small marbles. "Steel" Mavith! Daniz's pupils contracted sharply. This was the second-in-command of the "Lord of the Blood," Senyore, a renowned pirate with a bounty of 6,000 pounds! ………阵阵海风拂过，细长的树叶轻轻摇曳，随时可能飘落。Cain walked along the coastal street at a steady, unhurried pace, while the pedestrians around him hurried with swift, urgent steps. His intuitive sense told him that the rain would still be delayed for some time, giving him ample time to find a suitable inn. Wheee! The wind grew stronger, with branches snapping and falling to the ground, leaving the street nearly empty. As Cain was about to turn into another alley, he suddenly heard a hurried, uneven running sound. Trot! Trot! Trot! Danyz ran desperately, his vision beginning to waver. He felt intense pain at his wounds, with his life rapidly slipping away; his spirit had already begun to detach from his body, nearing the realm of the afterlife, so that the sounds around him were only faintly heard, and the scenes before him seemed unreal. Had it not been for a "shadow cloak," the ambush would have killed him outright—though even then, he sustained severe injuries and could collapse at any moment on the street. What kept him running toward Hai Fang Street was the firm belief that he must spread the news of the communication hub being taken over by officers under the "General of Blood" to alert the captain, and the faint yet powerful hope inspired by that wildly determined figure. If it had been him, he was certain he could have escaped the men under the "Steel" Maveth. Daniz's steps began to falter, and his body grew cold. Just as he felt himself on the verge of giving in, he saw Germain Spaulo standing at the corner—his composed, yet profoundly intense face now unexpectedly warm and familiar. Thump! Daniz collapsed face-first, his hands pressed to his chest and abdomen, now limp and lifeless, revealing a gruesome, dramatically gaping wound that exposed his internal organs. "Tell the captain, old Linne has been found—the 'Steel' Mavitt, for the treasure!" Daniz saw Germán Sparo crouching down beside him and hurried to say it without pause. Klein recalled Mavitt's bounty and asked, "The 'Blood Above Commander'?" "Yes, tell the captain, tell the captain!" Daniz gasped. After finishing his point, he offered a solemn smile: "Don't worry about me—I'm going—I'm going to die." "Tell the captain that all the money I've saved has turned into real estate—properties on Bayamón's fragrant tree avenue, numbers 12 to 16. The documentation is tucked inside the walls of the basement at number 13. Help me sell them, help me sell them, and bring the proceeds to Noces, in the southern part of Intis, and give it to my parents. Tell them that I've truly made it... Tell them that I've truly become an outstanding adventurer." Danyez paused, speaking with difficulty. "Tell them... tell them... I'm sorry." His eyes suddenly glistened, as though he remembered that young, rebellious boy from long ago. "I'm sorry, old man, Mom—I didn't make it home... Danyez felt his vision blur, as if his life were about to end. At that moment, he saw Germán Sparrow reach out and press gently on his wound, then wipe it with a swift motion. Daniz's sorrow froze in place; the numb pain that had settled in his chest and abdomen suddenly vanished, while his left arm felt as though it had been broken. He stared blankly at Caine, who in turn gazed at him silently—no words were exchanged for nearly two seconds. Finally, Daniz looked down in astonishment to find that his life-threatening wound had miraculously healed, while his left arm lay bloodied and exposed, its flesh torn away. "Me? I'm all right?" Daniz blinked, still immersed in the sorrow and despair of someone on the brink of death. "Why not treat me first?" he asked, bewildered. Caine turned toward the other side of the Hai Fang Street, where the scene was sparse, and spoke calmly: "Wait until you finish. That's courtesy." "Courtesy? You're a damn fool! I was truly delivering my last words just a moment ago!" Daniz straightened his back, surged to his feet with force. He scanned the dock, where a thick plume of smoke was rising—exactly the aftermath of the battle he had just fought. Since I set the house on fire, "Steel" McVey was both concerned about official heroes paying attention here and distracted by that shadow, so he didn't come after me. Daniz instantly grasped the situation. "First, find a place to stay," Kline spread his hands, catching a raindrop. Daniz, unsure whether he had fully escaped the crisis, nodded immediately: "Good." It was clear that the madman Germain Sparo didn't fear "Steel" McVey at all—nor did he fear "The Blood Above the General." At such moments, I truly admire his madness. Oh no—I've just exposed my wealth to him. As Daniz exhaled, his body suddenly went stiff. Kline carried his suitcase and cane, walking silently ahead, his mind filled with one thought: Man, a pirate has more money than I do. ... The Queens District. Audrey, about to leave Berkland, hid in her own chemistry lab, blending the elder tree fruits gifted by the noble vampire, mirror dragon blood, and other materials she had collected previously to create the "Psychiatrist" potion. This time, she didn’t have Susie stationed at the door—instead, she crouched inside, observing the process. The Count had already instructed everyone not to approach the lady during her experiments, but to remain vigilant for any signs of change. Inhale… Audrey took a quiet breath, pouring the finished potion into a prepared glass bottle. The slightly golden liquid swayed gently, as if the eyes of a transformed, immense being—eyes capable of seeing straight into each person’s soul. “Susie, did you record the process?” You are mature—no, you are a truly mature exceptional one now. From this point on, you'll need to learn how to prepare your own potions. Not that I'm not helping you—rather, I'm simply pointing out a possibility. Perhaps at times when I'm not beside you, you'll precisely need a potion. Audrey beamed at the golden dog. Suzy was a bit bewildered by the instruction and could only manage to utter one word: "Woof!" Calming herself, Audrey raised her head and drank the "Psychologist" potion.