Deep within the jungle of Blue Mountain Island, at the Rebel base. Karat, seated in a wheelchair, lifted his bare head toward the sunlight streaming through the entrance, his eyes glowing with unmistakable joy. He could clearly feel that since the Divine had returned to the earth and issued the Ten Commandments, the world had shifted—from its former bloodshed and chaos—offering the faithful wise, luminous guidance, and actively intervening in the affairs above the sea, striving to assist the Rebel forces and all people of Rosted, helping them forge a difficult yet hopeful path toward dawn. Perhaps that was the true meaning of the Divine's return... Karat recalled the latest divine message, speculating that the red-haired woman named Elen was the key to unlocking the "sick general" Tracie, shifting the balance of power above the sea, and reconfiguring the equilibrium among the nations—only when the world itself grew turbulent could the people of Rosted find their opportunity. Karat took a deep breath, swiftly arranging the ritual and praying to the "God of the Sea," copying out Ilean's photograph. After completing all this, he instinctively turned his head toward the other side, his expression complex and layered. That direction was home to the great priests of the Sea Church—religious figures who had once held high positions in the resistance movement. Though they dared not defy the divine decrees and had indeed made significant changes, they remained deeply rooted in the past, stubborn, conservative, outdated, even primitive, refusing to embrace the more civilized forms of the Church. If this continued, they would eventually be abandoned by the gods. Karat found it hard to suppress a quiet smile, yet unexpectedly, a profound sense of sorrow welled up within him. As he grasped the handle with his right hand, a suddenly absurd yet realistically achievable thought flashed through his mind: "I don't actually need to find the red-haired Eileen. My real purpose is to meet Tracie, the 'Disease-Stricken,' and uncover the fate of the wealthy businessman Jimmy Necker, as well as the whereabouts of that ancient collection of texts on the Death God. In other words, I only need someone who can bring me into contact with Tracie the 'Disease-Stricken.' Whether or not this person is truly Eileen is entirely irrelevant. I could even transform myself into the red-haired Eileen, have Daniz send me to Ozler, the 'Powerful One,' and claim the reward—all while simply waiting to meet Tracie the 'Disease-Stricken.' That's such a cool move...!" Klein sharply shook his head, citing reasons to reject this idea: "Even though I'm a faceless figure, I still can't bring myself to wear women's clothes right now! ...Is overcoming this psychological hurdle also one of the duties of the role?" "Moreover, I don't understand Elain with the red hair—she doesn't seem to be able to feign anything at all. She's just a shell, and it would be hard to fool someone who knows her well. Then I'd never see Tracie, the 'Disease Admiral,' again. "Indeed, it might not be Tracie who's looking for Elain with the red hair—perhaps it's an enemy of this pirate admiral's. "I'm not yet clear on Tracie's true standing. Acting on impulse like this makes it difficult to gauge the level of risk. "Better to stay steady, follow the course of my heart. First, find Elain with the red hair, gather detailed information from her, and then decide what comes next." At that moment, Cline suddenly noticed something was off in the living room. Daniz's snoring had noticeably diminished, and it had been getting progressively quieter. Has the 'Ice Admiral' arrived? Cline turned the handle and opened the bedroom door. The almost silent movement caused Daniz to leap upright, his eyes opening. He made a conscious effort to conceal the smile playing at the corner of his mouth and said, "The captain came by "She said the fleet of 'The Lord of the Blood' appeared off the island of Longtail and continued southward, seemingly heading toward the Storm Sea." "Such a reliable source!" Longtail? The southernmost island in the Rosted Sea? It appears that 'The Lord of the Blood' had indeed intended to visit Baym, but was startled by the resistance from Cavituwa and the sea king, Aen Cortman, and thus veered around, heading straight for the Storm Sea... Well, it's also likely that his seasoned intelligence officer, Quin, failed to send a radio report—another reason. Klein felt a sense of regret. Indeed, plans never change quickly. He had originally intended to make the hunt for 'The Lord of the Blood' the defining moment of fame for the wild adventurer and bounty hunter, Germán Sparro. Killing a 'Steel' Mavith still lacked the necessary impact. Klein remained silent, his gaze steady and calm upon Daniz. Daniz grew somewhat uncomfortable under the scrutiny, clearing his throat and offering a dry smile: "Then 'The Lord of the Blood' has slipped away—shouldn't your partnership with the captain be coming to an end now?" "May I return to the *Golden Dream* now?" "You can reach me through my messenger later!" Klein paused, pulled out paper and pen from his pocket, and quickly wrote down the method for summoning his messenger. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent the note soaring through the air like a thin sheet of metal. Danzis, whose Sequence 9 was "Hunter," easily caught the note in his hand. He glanced at it twice, then a surge of crimson flame erupted from his palm, completely consuming the paper into ash. "Ha! Even if I forget, Captain has a way to bring me back to memory." He paused, offered a smile, and asked again: "May I return to the *Golden Dream* now?" Klein nodded gently. "Indeed, you may." "Indeed, you may!" Danzis held back the urge to raise his fist in celebration, lest he disturb the madman, Germaine Sparrow. He smiled carefully, saying, "I'll go pay the rent for this period first, and while I'm out, I'll buy a ticket to the ship. You know, Bayam has been restless lately, and the captain doesn't want the 'Golden Dream' to dock at this private harbor." Rather pleasant—knowing to settle the rent... Kline said nothing, maintained his reserved demeanor, put on his coat, took up his hat, and walked out of the luxurious suite on his own. Once his silhouette disappeared around the corner of the staircase, Daniz retreated to his room, clenched his fists, and shook them vigorously: "Excellent! Excellent!" "Finally free!" He didn't hesitate at all—he put on his baseball cap and went directly to the front desk of the 'Blue Wind' hotel to settle his bill, clearly stating it was not a check-out. Daniz soon made his way to the street and headed straight for a place called 'Seaweed Bar,' where the air outside felt so sweet and invigorating, so refreshing to the spirit. After walking a few steps, he suddenly noticed a series of posters pinned to the wall at the corner: “...Reward: £5,500 for Daniz, the 'Flame'!” That poster was just two steps away—so close that the familiar face of Daniz stood in stark contrast to the one wearing a baseball cap. Daniz gritted his teeth, offering a pained smile. He quickly lowered the brim of his hat, nearly concealing his direct gaze. Yet even then, he remained uneasy, rushing to the nearest department store and buying a grey scarf, which he wrapped tightly around his neck, completely covering his nose and mouth. Only then did Daniz feel a little more at ease, quickening his pace toward his destination. “The Seaweed Bar” was a hub for the local crime syndicate and often hosted well-known pirates. While it didn’t boast the same breadth of intelligence and resources as the “Arrowfish” or “Basilica Bars,” it had its own distinct strengths: an extensive network of grassroots connections! Daniz's task was simply to go there and purchase a ticket on a black ship to Gräggs—no identification was required. He was well aware that, whether in the past or now, his reward notice had been posted at every official ticket counter, just as the first-class ticket on the "White Chalcedony" had been obtained. Upon entering the bar, Daniz kept his hat and scarf on, carefully scanning the room, and spotted Deniel, who was selling black ship tickets. He did not immediately approach; instead, he drew his gaze away from the lean, dark-haired man in his thirties, and began searching for someone new. After a few moments of browsing, Daniz pushed through the crowd and stood beside a young man drinking at the bar counter, giving his shoulder a gentle tap and speaking softly: "Could you help me with something?" "What is it?" the young man asked, turning with cautious alertness and noticing the inconspicuous figure: the lower half of his face was tightly wrapped in a gray scarf, and his baseball cap nearly obscured his eyes, leaving little to reveal. Such an outfit, in short, looks suspicious right away! It's the Rosedale Islands in winter, with temperatures around ten degrees Celsius! Daniz pointed to Deniel: "See that man? 'Help me book a ticket to Glauges for tomorrow.'" He handed over three one-pound notes, chuckling. "The rest is yours." Although black tickets are considerably more expensive than standard ones, Glauges isn't far away—three pounds is more than sufficient, especially since the journey is short and first-class tickets aren't necessary. Daniz chose not to book the tickets himself out of concern that Deniel might recognize him, which would complicate matters. When his bounty was still only 3,000 pounds, pirates and adventurers of comparable or lower rank, finding it necessary for several of them to pool their efforts to overcome him, often found the share of prize money insufficient to outweigh the deterrent effect of "Admiral of the Ice Mountain" and the risk of losing their lives—so few would proactively launch attacks on him, and thus his security remained assured in similar markets. But now, his bounty has risen to 5,500 pounds, and even when several join forces, each can receive a substantial share. And on the open sea, the most common are the desperate, the very ones willing to risk everything. Moreover, many strong contenders who feel their own bounties are too modest and wish to prove themselves will certainly target Daniz—someone with a strong reputation and a manageable risk. Precisely because of this, Daniz feared that Denier might turn on him at the first opportunity and sell him out, so he hired a stranger to act as his proxy for the purchase. The young man held the cash, looked once more at Daniz, and suddenly rose from his seat, walking toward Denier. He deliberately slowed his pace when passing certain drunkards, chatting with them in low tones. Daniz noticed this and suddenly became alert, realizing a question: now, with his timid, nervous demeanor, he seemed clearly out of place—perfectly suited for a case of black eating black. "Honestly, do you think the reputation of 'Fury' was bought?" Daniz resolved, preparing to hand out the tickets and deliver a stern lesson to those planning to black eat black. At that moment, he spotted a familiar figure entering through the door—Captain Mis, the well-known pirate with a reward of 2,800 pounds. It was clear that Captain Mis recognized the very group planning to black eat black. Captain Mis had several capable subordinates as well... Without hesitation, Daniz rose and headed straight for the back exit of the bar. His pace quickened, moving with agility to push through the crowd of drunkards, finally escaping the bar and then completely cutting loose from the group using his extensive anti-tracking skills. Daniez couldn't stay on the street any longer, as the sky had darkened and the number of patrolling police and soldiers had increased. He made his way back to the "Blue Wind" inn, opened the door of his luxury suite, and saw Germán Sparo enjoying the sunset by the window. Daniez felt a spark of inspiration, managed a smile, and said, "Actually, I've just forgotten something. The captain asked if you'd be interested in meeting him in Graggs." This had been a matter he'd previously concealed, intending to tell the captain upon his return that Germán Sparo had no interest—yet now he realized that without this passionate adventurer, he likely wouldn't make it out of Bayam alive.