Taking Stock

The interior of the hold was a complete wreck. The behemoth had overturned cages, the slaves had ransacked the cargo—it was a scene of total devastation. After performing some rudimentary first aid on my wounds, I dragged myself up and began scavenging for anything useful.

My plan was in shambles. I was supposed to pick all the locks safely and quietly, but then those two Sirens had to crawl out of the woodwork. More importantly, they had found me instantly despite the absolute darkness.

Why? How did they do it?

Tap… tap…

I walked toward the collapsed wine barrels. My boots made a wet, squelching sound as I stepped through the puddles of alcohol. I didn’t know the reason yet, but thanks to those two, I had wasted my only lethal weapon on a common animal.

“Tsk!” I clicked my tongue in frustration.

Out of my three bombs, only one was a Fire Bomb. An explosion capable of producing high-temperature flames was my only real trump card for dealing damage.

“…”

I stopped near where the bomb had landed. It had misfired during the confrontation with the beast. Had water leaked in when it fell into the sea? Or was it just too old?

“Ngh…”

I lowered myself into a crouch with great difficulty. The searing pain in my limbs and the lingering fever made me grimace. It shouldn’t have failed. The suitcase itself was waterproof, and my other clothes weren’t wet. Furthermore, these were part of a batch newly manufactured for the war; they were nowhere near their expiration date.

I stared at the bomb sitting in the spilled wine, contemplating the reason. If it wasn’t an internal mechanical failure…

I recalled the basic principles of bomb-making. The spark for ignition and the subsequent explosion comes from a medium known as Low-grade Fire Jade. It’s a very common catalyst that even ordinary people can use to trigger fire-type spells. In the fight against the beast, the bomb had only activated its initial effect, failing to produce the final explosion.

If it hadn’t been a dud, that proximity would have killed me along with the beast.

“Unless…” I rubbed my chin, considering a possibility. If the cause wasn’t internal, then the reason for the misfire had to be environmental. “Is the energy flow density here different?”

I have always been fascinated by magic formulas. Energy flows, spells, mediums, alchemy… these were the subjects I spent my nights obsessing over. But I was born without an energy flow circuit. Ultimately, I was left with a head full of theory and the ability to produce only flawed items—handicapped tools that couldn’t reach half the power of a proper spell.

Yet, even with these “failures,” I had survived multiple dead ends.

Looking at my last remaining “weapon,” even if it was a dud, I reached out. Just in case it could still be used—

“HOT!”

A piercing heat, high enough to practically cook my fingers, shot through me. Any lingering sentimentality was instantly blown away. I had literally scorched a layer of skin off my hand! What was going on?

I flopped onto the floor, whimpering and sucking on my burnt fingers. Dammit… it hurts, it hurts…

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. This bomb was clearly useless now. I felt a wave of regret; I shouldn’t have come back for it with such naive hope. But then again, if I hadn’t touched it, how would I have known it was scorching?

“What rotten luck…”

I’ve done enough craftwork to know that objects with invisible temperatures are the most annoying. Humans can’t judge an object’s temperature just by looking at it. I’m not a snake, after all.

“Snake?”

I remembered the research journals from the library. Certain snakes have thermal-sensing organs that allow them to hunt by detecting heat. Sirens… they look like snakes. Do they share that trait?

I began to look back at the Sirens’ behavior during my time in the hold. If I factored in that possibility…

There was a 70—no, 80% chance that they can perceive heat.

The realization made my heart flutter with a bit of excitement. I’m not like those powerful warriors who can gather intelligence while fighting. Finding out a racial trait of the Sirens before actually engaging them in combat was a huge advantage. Of course, my best strategy was still to avoid fighting entirely.

But looking at the current situation, that was becoming impossible.

The Reality of the “Uprising”

According to the plan, the beast herd was supposed to break through the cargo hold doors and charge onto the deck first. Before the crew could react, the slaves would follow as a second wave. The pirate ship would fall into chaos, allowing someone to slip away unnoticed.

The plan was simple. The reality was cruel.

The beasts had indeed charged out, and the other slaves had armed themselves with whatever they could find before departing in a grand fashion. They likely thought the crew was caught off guard and struggling with the animals. They probably believed they could turn the tide and take the ship.

When the bloodlust hits, it’s easy to fall into the delusion that you are invincible. Unfortunately, what awaited them wasn’t the joy of freedom. It was likely despair.

On the Deck:

“W-what is this…”

A Naco male holding a crude spear stared in disbelief. They had reached the port. Most of the crew should have been at the taverns, lazy and resentful. Why were the remaining guards so… alert?

“Why…?”

Before he could finish the thought, another scream erupted from his side.

“No! Please!” “I was wrong! I’ll go back to the cage! AHHH!”

Equipped with tridents and high-quality armor, the Siren crew members were suppressing the riot as easily as someone sweeping a room.

“ROAARR!”

The only real trouble was the Long-bearded Leopard charging across the deck.

“Drive the slaves to the sides! Clear the center! Don’t let that beast damage the merchandise!”

A muscular, armored Siren stood tall on the deck, barking orders with absolute composure.

“Yes, sir!” “Understood, Brigadier!”

The crew responded instantly. It was all an illusion. There had been no lapse in security. The Captain hadn’t taken the Brigadier with her today. Aside from a few expendable crew members, those left on the ship were the elites.

The reason was obvious.

“Because I am on this ship,” I whispered.

The Final Move

「Old man, I’m going to notify the Brigadier! Just hold on!」

The plan changed the moment that fleeing Siren said those words.

The Brigadier. I didn’t know much about this Siren, but the most striking memory I had was of his absurd strength—he could wrestle with giant beasts. He wasn’t some minor character. He was either the Captain’s confidant or her right hand.

Why would such a powerful figure be left behind to guard the ship?

“This riot… won’t even make a ripple.”

Contrary to my initial estimates, the pirate ship was now a fortress. The question was why. I thought back to the auction earlier today. Those high-ranking nobles… they were bidding for me. The price had exceeded even the Marquis’s expectations.

“This is bad.”

I couldn’t help but speak aloud. If the Brigadier had been left behind specifically for me, then what “merchandise” would he be most concerned about while suppressing the riot?

How much time had passed? About five minutes since the last group of slaves left. No matter how sudden the riot was, with the Brigadier there, the suppression would be incredibly fast.

I looked up toward the deck. I had a terrible premonition. If it wasn’t just the Brigadier, but a whole squad of elite crew members…

I always assume the worst-case scenario. A chill ran down my spine. Hey, don’t tell me you guys have already been wiped out? I went through all that trouble to set you free, released the beasts, even chased that monster out there just so you could provide a distraction!

“I can’t wait anymore.”

I packed my gear and downed a Stamina Potion from my suitcase. I looked straight toward the cargo doors. I was supposed to wait until most of the crew was occupied on deck, but I was terrified that if I waited any longer, the suppression would be over. I stood no chance against the Brigadier.

I had to move. The deck was a suicide mission, so I had to find another way out.

Gulp…

I finished the potion. It was my last one. I had to rely on myself now.

Dammit, this is a mess. I’ll never get out at this rate—

“…” “…”

Eyes met.

The cargo hold was a disaster, but thanks to the behemoth, a straight path had been cleared from the beast area to the main doors. Because of this, as I hurried toward the exit, I saw him standing right in the doorway.

A Siren.

A Siren clad in heavy armor, gripping a trident.

My heart nearly stopped.