Captain – Chapter 158 – Golden-Eyed Devil

Across the dense crowd, Richi stared at the young woman who stood with her back to the rain and gun barrels.

His clear blood-red eyes rippled with extremely complex emotions, resembling longing and reverence, or perhaps suppression and fear. But whatever these emotions were, they vanished in the next moment, leaving only coldness and detachment.

The silence lasted for a long time.

Both the devil at the brink of destruction and the butcher waiting for the devil to speak maintained absolute silence from beginning to end.

No questions, no explanations, not even a call—nothing at all, as if the two were simply strangers with nothing to say to each other.

Finally, the youth grew weary.

He turned around and walked toward the empty bow, his boots breaking through rainwater, making dull sounds as they landed on the deck.

Those footsteps, easily overlooked, were extraordinarily clear and powerful in this world filled only with the sound of rain and thunder—one after another, like a death knell pounding in people’s hearts.

“Gentlemen, deal with her, deal with Solomon, and then we’ll go plunder the Federation’s largest treasure ship.”

After walking for a while, the youth paused his steps, turning his head slightly to issue the hoarse command.

The captain’s meaning was very clear, so clear that everyone on deck understood without thinking.

Kill the devil, eliminate the Black Emperor—these actions would sever their past. And that treasure ship full of valuables, the Jenny Skate, would be the future for them and Yadris.

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This was Richi’s promise, and also his merciless judgment against his former captain.

But despite what he said, those pirates holding firearms still trembled, afraid to shoot, as if fearing to disturb the dormant tiger.

Captain Richi could command respect, had authority, dared to ally with the Black Emperor, and showed determination. After this alliance, deciding to completely eliminate the Constantine demonstrated his ambition and ruthlessness to the extreme. But…

These sufficiently excellent leadership qualities seemed somewhat inadequate when facing the Golden-Eyed Devil.

Of course, those on deck now were all the Blood-Eyed Butcher’s loyal followers, and they would never mutiny at this crucial moment.

Those who might potentially turn against him had been disarmed and locked in the lower deck, closely guarded by their men. Moreover, they didn’t even know that Captain Roy was still alive, so they were even less likely to cause trouble.

That devil was truly alone now, seemingly with no possibility of escape.

With this thought, the pirate standing at the front of the firearm squad clenched his teeth, his finger on the trigger. Just as he was about to fire unexpectedly, a voice suddenly came from the captain’s cabin—a voice that had lost its magnetism and become slightly sharper, yet still as casual and composed as before.

That familiar voice evoked the deepest fear and awe in the pirate’s heart. Far from pulling the trigger, he almost couldn’t hold his firearm steady and instinctively took half a step back.

Other people familiar with Captain Roy had the same reaction; even some important figures showed slight loss of composure.

“Little bastard, have you forgotten the ship’s rules?”

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She spoke at last. The Golden-Eyed Devil finally spoke. The youth, who had been waiting for this moment for a long time, slowly turned around, a cold light flashing in his blood-red pupils.

“What?”

The slightly hoarse voice penetrated the wind, rain, and crowd, reaching Roy’s ears. She smiled slightly, thinking that he really hadn’t changed at all.

In the past, when Richi missed her words while daydreaming, he would ask in this calm way. Even if it was just unimportant boasting, he would listen attentively, simply because it was she who said it—his captain.

Everything seemed unchanged, but… there was ultimately something different, because after that question, there should have been a more intimate form of address.

“What, Captain?”

Nostalgically recalling the youth’s affectionate calls, the young woman imperceptibly shook her head, slowly placing the captain’s hat she held onto her head. The brim bent her golden hair, which trembled like a waterfall.

The complex emotions in her dark golden pupils were all concealed, replaced by the absolute calmness and rationality of a beast hunting its prey. Roy turned slightly, her gaze passing over the deck to fall on that thin figure. Smiling, she asked in return: “Richi, what happens to those who steer without the captain’s order? Surely you haven’t forgotten?”

Richi responded expressionlessly: “Of course, this is a uniform prohibition on all pirate ships. Anyone who violates the prohibition…”

“Will be executed without mercy.”

The former captain and first mate recited in unison. That remarkable tacit understanding seemed not to have diminished at all despite the betrayal in their hearts and the passage of time.

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In the young woman’s eyes, it was as if magma was flowing, filled with intense light and heat. Under that compelling gaze and the duo’s chant-like recitation, the crew members who had once been under Roy’s command began to breathe rapidly, their eyes showing signs of retreat.

More than half of this massive team of over a hundred people had developed the intention to withdraw, which was obviously an incomparable blow to morale. Fern, the head of the Fighting Squad standing among the crowd, certainly could not watch such sentiment spread.

This bear-like robust man roared an order: “What are you waiting for? Fire!”

Even before Fern’s voice sounded, Roy had nimbly untied the small pouch from her belt, yanking open the thin cord that secured it, then throwing it toward the people closest to the captain’s cabin.

The pouch opened, and jet-black substance like gravel poured out. Under the cover of the heavy rain, it showered down on the people gripping their firearms, like another rainfall.

Seeing this, after clearly making out the appearance of those granules, Fern’s eyelids twitched violently. He roared a warning: “Don’t shoot! Don’t—”

But it was too late.

The pirates in the first row had finally gathered their courage under his roar—how could they stop their fingers that were already pulling the triggers?

Brilliant light and fire blossomed from the muzzles of the firearms, lead bullets gushing forth, shooting straight at the young woman. But before these deadly weapons could reach her, they first had an intimate collision with the black granules flying through the air.

First came an ear-splitting boom, followed by a piercing ringing. More than twenty pirates near the captain’s cabin fell to the ground covering their ears, rolling and wailing in agony. From the places they covered with their hands, crimson blood flowed continuously.

Most tragic was that row of pirates—before they could react, flames surged toward them, consuming their bodies, burning them to a bloody pulp. Then they were struck by the terrible impact force produced by the explosion, sent flying horizontally, crashing heavily into the crew members behind them.

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The flames were like a curtain, concealing the scene inside the captain’s cabin. At a distance from where the explosion occurred, the important figures of the Mermaid watched this scene with shocked expressions.

Even Cassius, who had already searched the captain’s cabin, hadn’t imagined that the small pouch sitting quietly on the desk, looking as harmless as a protective charm, actually contained extremely dangerous black gunpowder!

To keep such a dangerous item that could destroy an entire room and bury all lives within it right in front of oneself, while calmly planning routes and issuing orders—how incredibly strong must that devil’s will be?

“Is… is she dead?” the bosun, who had only taken over Old John’s duties a few months ago and knew very little about Captain Roy, swallowed and asked with some difficulty.

In his view, no matter how powerful that young woman was, she was still just a person. Under such dense firearms fire, no one should be able to survive.

Before the silent former crew members could answer, the bosun received his answer.

Accompanied by a piercing whistle of wind, a wooden table riddled with bullet holes crashed through the dissipating flames, landing diagonally on the ground. Various navigational instruments scattered on the ground, smashed to pieces.

Immediately after, a figure rushed out from the dim captain’s cabin, stepping on the edge of the slanting table and springing up, landing as lightly as a swift on the ground. Then without hesitation, she charged toward the chaotic crowd—no, to be precise, toward the expressionless youth behind the crowd.

The devil’s golden eyes gleamed in the lightning, and the curved blade in her hand, symbolizing judgment and death, had also been unsheathed with the thunder.

Determined to sever all past and fate.