"Captain Bruno, you've finally returned!"
"Hmm..."
"Almighty! Your face looks terrible, are you sick too?..."
"Hmm..."
In the colonial port of Lion Mountain, the most bustling places are naturally the tavern and the brothel, two large tropical wooden huts and shacks that are connected as one. Alcohol and won are the most important stabilizers for maintaining order in overseas colonies, particularly in comforting the stationed soldiers. Incidentally, this is also a highly profitable industry, capable of shaking the last copper coin out of the hands of soldiers and sailors.
When Bruno walked into the tavern, the waves of noise, laughter, and the pungent odors of perfu, stench, and alcohol flooded him like a tide, making him feel sowhat uncomfortable all over.
As an ordinary sailor, he often frequented such places and enjoyed mingling with the low-ranking sailors. But as he gradually climbed to the status of nobility, such places aid at the lower classes always made him feel awkward and cheap, becoming sothing he hoped to forget, those humble pasts.
Soon, the passing guests saw Bruno's noble attire, and their voices suddenly grew quieter. The crowd here was part comrcial station employees and mostly stationed troops, with not many dark-skinned n, but rather filled with dark-skinned won. And whenever the Portuguese Navy passed through, they would forcefully take over the tavern's alcohol and won, indulging themselves for a day or two before embarking once more on their death-defying sea journeys.
"Quem vai ao mar perde o lugar. Haloduo, those who go to sea always lose their place."
"...? "
"A vida no mar é breve como a espuma das ondas. Life at sea is always as short as the foam of the waves, and life is the sa!"
"...? "
"Quem anda no mar aprende a rezar. Therefore, those who go to sea learn to pray and learn to indulge. It's the last choice and longing in the face of death."
"...! Captain, what's wrong with you? In the few days you were gone, did the local tribes' shaman put a demon's curse on you?..."
"... Don't talk nonsense! I'm just feeling emotional. Mayor Angel warmly entertained for these five days, making it... unforgettable... I finally understood what Byzantine-style luxury and indulgence an, why Ro perished... why the Almighty gave commandnts, and why priests are also prone to corruption... Alas! Captain Diogo, may your pious and noble spirit always guide , keeping from straying!"
With that, Bruno sighed softly and offered a few devout prayers. But in such a noisy and pungent setting, such prayers felt inexplicably sowhat comical.
Bruno shook his head and looked around the crowded tavern, imdiately spotting Quartermaster Matim. He was wearing an eye patch, boldly squeezing two dark-skinned won, pinching the black into red. Then, he mixed a pink pearl into a drink and forcibly poured it into a young woman's mouth, leaning in drunkenly while shouting recklessly.
"Ah haha! Why crying? Let see with my one eye! Is it the pearl that's pinker, the drink that's smoother, or... hey haha!..."
"..."
Bruno frowned slightly, his gaze passed over Matim, staring at that pink pearl for a few breaths. Then, he looked around the entire tavern, not seeing the old carpenter Ivo or Guide Shushu... His expression finally turned solemn as he asked Haloduo.
"Haloduo, where did Matim get that pearl?"
"Uh... it's... he got it from guide mouse..."
"And guide mouse? Did Matim kill him? And the other yellow-skinned sailors?..."
"Ah, Captain, I was just about to tell you!… Guide mouse and the other captured sailors all fell ill two days after you left, sotis cold, sotis hot, clearly struck by the demon's curse!... As of now, two of them have already died and been buried in the cetery!"
"What? All fell ill?!... Damn it! If other yellow-skinned sailors died, they died… But guide mouse is a translator and our brother, still needed later! Where is he? He wouldn't be buried by you too, right?..."
"Oh! No, guide mouse is still alive... Old carpenter Ivo is watching over him, right in that big area of shacks behind the place. By the way! We found an old black-skinned shaman to treat him. It's said that old man is a bit mysterious, able to communicate with demons, and use so strange herbs to cure many of the demon's curse victims... Captain, do you want to take a look?..."
"... Hmm..."
Thinking about the terrifying demon's curse and not knowing if it was contagious, Bruno hesitated for a mont, finally just saying.
"God bless! I'll just take a look from afar... won't go close..."
"Gather all the brothers! Recruit a few new labor sailors, black-skinned will do too!… We've rested long enough; it's ti to get back on the road!… Hmm? Haloduo, anything else?"
"Captain, you ntioned earlier... inviting..."
"Oh, no problem! Mayor Angel said he has shares in this tavern, this ti he's treating… I just need to say a word to the tavern manager!... What, anything else?"
"Captain, about... the Azores Governor... Martin's matter... any news?..."
"Hmm... no. I reckon with Martin missing, Azores Governor didn't say a word..."
"... Captain, otherwise... otherwise..."
The chubby Boatswain Haloduo's face drooped, obviously feeling very uneasy. He orchestrated the trick to get Martin onto the ship, and even though there was an interdiary, it was impossible to hide from the local bigwig, the Azores Governor.
If Martin returned alive, everything would be fine. But now Martin was left in the Cipangu Sea Area, as dead as a doornail with likely not even bone splinters left, probably gobbled up by fish. How could he ho with no explanation! If the Azores Governor pursued the matter, how could a small sailor like him survive? Would Captain Bruno really confront an enraged Great Nobility for the sake of a so-called "brother"? Or would he toss him aside, using his life to smooth over this incident?...
Through these days of pondering, Haloduo had already found an answer. He slled the thick danger, like a smart sea rat on a ship, unwilling to take a step forward. Hence, at this mont, in the colonial port of Tropical Africa, amidst the bustling tavern and brothel, he quietly reached for the dagger at his waist and pleaded bitterly with Bruno.
"Captain! I need to lay low... I beg you! Leave here to care for the sick guide mouse and so sailors!… When the ship returns to Lisbon, if anyone inquires, just say I died at sea, like those forty-odd dead sailors, without a trace!..."
"If all goes smoothly and this incident passes uneventfully… Next ti when you sail past Sierra Leone again, just pick up!… For the sake of these many years as brothers, I implore you!"
"..."
Bruno squinted, locking eyes with the pleading Haloduo for a mont. His hand also reached for his sword, kept silent for a long ti before sighing once more.
"Haloduo... you are so cautious! Maybe, the Azores Governor won't find you, nothing might happen at all..."
"Ah! Alright, alright! For the sake of these many years as brothers, I should leave you a path to life... I'll leave you here, to take care of guide mouse... I'll report you as dead in action..."
"But from now on, Haloduo can no longer appear, you can't be the Boatswain either. You must change your appearance, change your identity, and board the ship for the next voyage... I will rember you; you will always be a brother to Bruno! My flagship will always have a place for you..."
"Ah! Thank you, thank you, kind Captain!… Praise the Almighty! Praise you even more!..."
Upon hearing this hard-earned promise, Haloduo finally breathed a long sigh of relief, silently letting go of the dagger. His back clothes soaked, his plump body incessantly bowed in gratitude and humility.
"Captain, rest assured! My old profession is a cook, not the Boatswain… The Boatswain Haloduo, will die today!… Next ti I board the ship, I'll be your loyal cook, your devoted little brother, Ado!..."
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