Captain – Chapter 111 – Please Leave

This young man was very charismatic.

With attire and accessories that ranked at the top of high society, the most fashionable style combinations in the world today, and a face so exquisite it was beyond reproach—even Sarah, who had seen countless people, had to acknowledge this fact.

Add to that his gentle and refined manner, and his willingness to extend courtesy even to servants, this young man undoubtedly came from a noble family—not some nouveau riche that had risen in a short time, but a true aristocratic family with hundreds of years of history and heritage.

After completing his greeting, the young man leaned on his cane and walked unhurriedly to the greeting servants. He reached into the dark pocket of his black suit, searched for a moment, and took out an extremely thin, snow-white check.

“I’m terribly sorry, but when I travel, I don’t usually carry cash, at most just a few checks. If your establishment doesn’t mind…”

“Of course, respected sir, the Banshee’s Eye accepts payment by check,” a greeting maid responded with utmost honor, her eyes shining with some inexplicable light as she gazed at that apologetic face.

“That’s excellent.”

The young man smiled and placed the check in the maid’s hand, then continued on his way toward the corridor leading to the tavern’s first-floor hall.

“Sir… sir, please wait a moment.”

Hearing the maid’s call from behind, the young man, having declined the service of the maids with a wave of his hand, turned his head slightly: “Is there a problem with the seal or signature?”

“No, that’s not it.”

The maid, her face slightly pale, looked at the check in her hand. Her gaze swept over the flowing, graceful signature and the blood-red seal symbolizing the Volkin Bank, finally settling on the number that made her mouth go dry. Her voice trembled as she said: “This… this amount is too large. We can’t make change right away and need to notify the proprietress.”

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Although some guests were generous and would leave the remainder after paying the entrance fee as a tip, no one would ever be so kind-hearted as to reward them with such an enormous sum of money—not even the most distinguished guests of the Banshee’s Eye.

After all, written on the check was a full hundred thousand silver coins!

Seeing the maid’s trembling yet tight grip on the check, her face a struggle of emotions, the young man smiled unconcernedly: “No need for change. Half of this money can be considered my greeting gift to your beautiful proprietress, and as for the rest…”

“Those present shall share it among yourselves.”

With that, the young man waved his hand and unhurriedly disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

As soon as the young man left, the previously tense people immediately relaxed. For some reason, although the young man had been very gentle, they had unconsciously felt pressure in his presence.

The maids quickly gathered around, and even the servants who generally could not leave their posts cast curious glances at the maid who had accepted the check.

“How much did that guest give?”

“Judging by his attire, he must be the child of some great Federation noble. He should be quite generous—did it exceed a thousand silver coins?”

“How could that be possible? It’s just an entrance fee. Who would pay a thousand silver coins?”

The melodious voices of the maids rose and fell like a group of larks playing and frolicking. This lively and bustling atmosphere continued until a scream rang out.

The greeting area of the tavern instantly quieted down, with everyone staring at the little maid who had been the first to squeeze next to the serving girl.

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She was a young girl who appeared to be only sixteen or seventeen, barely reaching the Federation’s age of majority, recently hired by Cecilia.

Now, large patches of red flushed the young girl’s face as she covered her mouth in disbelief. An uncertain voice emerged from between her overlapped hands: “A hun… hundred thousand.”

The maids and servants looked at each other, all sinking into a state of stupor. Only Sarah, with the longest service record and who had experienced many grand occasions with Cecilia, remained calm. She took the check from the maid’s hand and gently stroked that dizzying number.

The head maid’s gaze, however, did not fall on the number, but immediately focused on the name.

“Don Anderson…”

Sarah murmured, and gradually, heavy surprise crept onto her previously calm face: “The… eldest young master of the Anderson family.”

Don Anderson was a name familiar to many.

Whether it was the imperial upper echelons who viewed the Anderson family as a thorn in their side, the Federal Assembly who relied on this military-industrial family, or merchants engaged in various businesses—all paid close attention to this person.

Because in some sense, half of the Anderson family was already in this young man’s hands, which meant that this youth, barely in his twenties, already controlled three-quarters of the Federation’s weapons business!

Such a person would naturally become the focus of attention wherever he appeared.

In the eyes of noble offspring of his age, this wealthy, generous, and handsome Anderson young master was the best companion to befriend and also the most excellent marriage partner—he had even appeared in the dreams of many lovesick young ladies.

Of course, those not on the same level would not catch this young master’s eye, much less have a chance for further development.

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But… why had he appeared at the Banshee’s Eye, yet none of the proprietress’s informants had reported anything?

Sarah couldn’t figure this out, nor did she, like her sisters, become infatuated or celebrate the enormous wealth they would receive. She just gazed absently into the deep corridor, speechless for a long time.

The first floor hall of the Banshee’s Eye.

The hall, which should have been at least half full even with declining popularity, was unusually empty today. Only a few people sat quietly scattered about, drinking precious wines that were normally difficult to taste but now flowed freely.

These people had all gone through layer upon layer of screening and were determined by Caine to be the future backbone of the Mermaid.

At the round wooden table closest to the outside of the hall, Caine sat with his head lowered, flipping through thick documents, with a stack of formal contracts beside him.

All these documents had been collected by Cecilia—records of the people who had gathered outside the tavern in recent days. The information was extremely detailed, recording their backgrounds, past occupations, and whether they had worked under that captain before.

In addition, the documents recorded their outstanding achievements or evil deeds, so each applicant who came for an interview appeared completely exposed before Caine, with no secrets to speak of.

Sighing gently, Caine rubbed his temples, feeling somewhat fatigued. Throughout the entire morning, nearly forty applicants had sat down before him and left, but in the end, only six people who met the conditions remained.

The rest either had unclear connections with the Mermaid and the Constantine, or had unclear backgrounds, had committed unforgivable evil deeds, or had betrayed previous employers—such people naturally could not be kept.

With the conditions Roy had set, Caine had the right to be so strict without worrying about not having enough personnel due to excessive filtering. But the problem was that at this rate, heaven knows how long it would take to recruit everyone.

Perhaps he should find some people to help; the Banshee’s Eye couldn’t remain closed every day.

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Caine was silently thinking when he noticed a figure pushing aside the silk curtain and entering. Accompanied by a few crisp taps of a cane against the floor, the person sat down at the round wooden table and casually placed the cane beside him.

“Name,” the first mate said without raising his head.

“Don.”

Caine quickly flipped through the documents at hand, but after searching once, he didn’t find any applicant named Don, so he instinctively frowned.

Was it overlooked? Or was the person using an alias?

As if seeing through the first mate’s thoughts, the young man sitting opposite Caine cleared his throat dignifiedly: “I’m sorry, but I just arrived on the island today, rather… hastily. Miss Joyce probably hasn’t collected any intelligence about me.”

Hearing those unhurried words, completely lacking the nervousness expected from an applicant, Caine raised his head and gazed at the politely smiling young man, his expression gradually becoming stern.

He strongly disliked this fellow’s smile.

Within that seemingly gentle smile seemed to be mixed an indifference that could swallow people without blinking, as if the other regarded himself as a deity looking down upon the world from on high.

Thinking this, Caine decided to make that hypocritical and detestable smile disappear.

“Since I haven’t received your information, then, please leave.”