The grand island of Silver Sand Bay had its bustling hub in the west, where a crescent-shaped natural harbor gleamed like a jewel.
The far eastern coast, however, was wild and untamed—treacherous with reefs and hidden currents, barren of resources, left in its natural state.
Now, on that deserted shore, a fungus-boat lay wrecked, tilted and broken on the sand. Its hull—already little more than a makeshift patchwork—had finally come apart after a forced beaching.
The two mermaids pulling it had escaped in the chaos, but Lin Jun no longer cared whether they stayed or fled.
Most of the red reef fruit had survived, and since it wasn’t safe to carry them around openly, he buried the stash beneath a pile of rocks.
As for Dylan—he looked like a beggar. Lin Jun could only take up his blades and trim the man’s scraggly beard and overgrown hair. The result was three small cuts and a somewhat cleaner face.
“Didn’t expect we’d wash right up on Silver Sand Bay,” Dylan said, a little impressed by their luck. He had thought they’d first end up on some other island and have to book another ride.
“Don’t get too happy. Think of how much time you’ve already lost. Who knows if you’ll even find your daughter now,” Lin Jun replied mercilessly. “First stop: the tavern.”
Dylan scratched his head. That was the usual way to gather information, but—
“Boss, we don’t have any money…”His coins had gone down with his bag in the mist. He had been worrying about how to get more.
“That’s why we’re going to the tavern—to make some.” Lin Jun said it like it was obvious.
So in they went.
The tavern was called The Broken Sword’s Scrap, and the moment Dylan stepped through the door, the stench almost drove him back out.
For weeks he had been breathing clean, open air. The sudden mix of cheap liquor, sweat, and thick smoke was overwhelming.
Especially the sharp, acrid scent of tobacco—he’d never encountered this type back in Windless Town. Must be a local specialty of the Isles.
“E-excuse me, sir…”
A timid voice drew his attention. A slave-servant, collar around his neck, tray of drinks in hand.
Dylan realized he was blocking the narrow passage and stepped aside.
The boy was frail, wrists and ankles crisscrossed with lash marks, a branded scar burned into the back of his neck.
In the kingdom, slaves mostly worked on noble estates. Rarely would anyone use one as a tavern server. The Isles were different.
Before Dylan could turn away, a foot shot from the shadows—tripping the boy.
Crash!
The tray went flying, mugs shattered, liquor splashed across the greasy floor.
The boy fell hard, shards cutting his skin. His muffled cry was drowned out by roaring laughter.
“Look at this idiot!” The man who’d tripped him slapped the table, joined by jeers from the crowd.
Behind the counter, the barkeep scowled at the mess. “Useless trash. Clean it up.”
Then he barked at the prankster: “That’s on your tab.”
The man only shrugged—the cost didn’t matter to him.
Dylan stared at the boy crawling on the floor to pick up shards. If Bella had ended up like this…
His fists clenched.
“Dylan, this way,” Lin Jun urged.
“Ah?”
Following orders, Dylan stepped over the boy and circled the tavern’s left side.
“Like this?”
“Perfect.”
A scout pack slipped a small pouch into his hand. Inside—coins.
“…Where did this…”
“Found it.”
Dylan twitched. He wasn’t a holy knight, and they really did need money…
Money made things easier. For two silvers, the barkeep pointed them to an information broker.
Dylan slid a fruit wine across to a small, wiry man sitting in a corner.
The man sipped, then said casually, “Never seen you before. You know it takes more than a drink, right?”
Dylan dropped ten silvers on the table.
“Fine, fine. Just common news…” The man pocketed the coins and rattled off:
The fog swallowing Giant Horn Isle. The worsening feud among the Three Slave Lords. And the latest—Glosa’s secretary Horn had been murdered in his own latrine, and Commander Oruk’s failure to catch the killer had cost him his post. A rising newcomer had just taken his place.
After finishing, Dylan asked: “And if I wanted to find someone specific?”
The man tapped the table twice.
Another thirty silvers later, he gave a name and a location.
Dylan rose to leave—when shouting erupted.
“No credit tabs here,” the barkeep said coldly, setting down his cup.
The prankster from earlier was patting his body frantically—his purse was gone.
“It—it was that slave! He was right beside me, must’ve lifted it!”
The barkeep didn’t care. “No money? Then leave your weapon as pledge.”
The crowd chuckled at the show. Slave jokes, client jokes—they loved them all.
Red-faced, the man drew his scimitar. “What the hell are you laughing at?”
Which only made them laugh louder.
The barkeep calmly lifted a handaxe from the wall.
Bang!
The door slammed open. “What’s going on? Could hear the racket outside. Trying to cause trouble on Lord Tianqi’s first day?”
A soldier shoved through the crowd, followed by a middle-aged man with more troops.
The man’s gaze swept the tavern like a landlord inspecting property, then fixed on the scimitar-wielding drunk.
“Commander, he tried to eat for free and started trouble,” the barkeep said smoothly.
“I—I wasn’t—” the man stammered, but the new commander waved a hand. Soldiers seized him instantly.
No one dared resist. Not everyone could be like that mysterious assassin and escape Silver Sand Bay unscathed.
The crowd lowered their eyes. The commander, satisfied, turned to leave.
“That’s him,” whispered the broker beside Dylan. “The new commander.”
No one noticed the backpack tucked behind a chair, keeping out of sight.
Lin Jun’s mind reeled at what he had just seen on the man’s panel.
【Name: Tanaka Hidetoshi】
【Race: Human】
【Level: LV18】
【Skill: Memory Erasure LV4…】
【Title: Hero】
What the hell?
Another Hero?
And a Japanese one, at that?