Bantaan Archipelago.
Azure seas and blue skies. A lone white sail, riding the wind, cut through the waves.
Aboard, a sailor strumd the Kingdom of Castile's unique instrunt, the flanco guitar, expressing his uncontrollable hosickness.
The lodious singing lingered throughout the rchant ship.
"This ship is nad 'Teapot'; when the wind blows, she sets sail. Blow, blow hard.
Soon, the 'Teapot' will co, bringing us sugar, tea, and rum..."
A flock of seagulls cried, accompanying him.
Old Tom, the captain with a bushy beard, looked back at the gradually receding Yucatan Island and a group of natives waving energetically from the shore. A mix of emotions churned within him. I never expected that among those natives, there would be such wise individuals, capable of deceiving everyone so silently. On the surface, it seed they had been wiped out by the smallpox epidemic, leaving an empty city. But it was all a ploy to lure the snake out of its hole, to incite the two overlords to fight each other. In the end, both powers suffered a double loss and no longer had enough military force to forcibly take the land of Yucatan. Most of the colonizers in the Bantaan Archipelago have temporarily curbed their plundering nature. They've had no choice but to revert to being civilized people, honestly conducting business with those natives. Moreover, many city-states openly declared their faith in a new deity, the 'Father of Healing,' claiming they no longer fear any plague. Who knows if it's true? Anyway, I heard that the bizarre, bird-beaked plague doctor wandering the island is on the verge of dissipating. However, these are matters for the higher-ups to worry about, not for us lowest-ranking sailors. Despite the twists and turns, our 'Teapot' has finally returned safely with its cargo.
Old Tom's current feelings could only be described as bittersweet. He was glad that this ti, through proper trade on Yucatan Island, he had successfully purchased a large quantity of native specialties. His concern was that, unlike before, those city-states had all established foreign trade departnts, staffed by professionals responsible for unified buying and selling. And they were remarkably skilled in business, as if they had leaped from the Stone Age to beco a modern, disciplined force overnight. Old Tom even felt their deanor was faintly reminiscent of the Remit People. They were intimately familiar with the market values of common goods. How much items sold for locally in Banta'an, their landing prices in the Old Continent's ports like Valencia Harbor, Felixstowe Port, and other major hubs—they knew it all, even better than he, an old captain, did.
I suspect one of them might possess the 'Golden Eye' from the Gold Sequence, they just don't seem like a bunch of natives. The profit from this mariti trade has visibly dwindled. I just hope we don't encounter pirates on our return...
DING DING DING...
But before they could even leave the coastal waters of Yucatan, the lookout in the crow's nest of the mainmast suddenly rang the alarm bell.
"Trouble! Pirates!"
In the chaos that erupted on board, Captain Old Tom, his heart pounding violently, quickly raised his brass spyglass. He scanned the pirate ship erging from a cluster of reefs. The pirate flag was already hoisted high on its mast: a dragon's skull dripping blood from its maw, with a knightly sword and a pirate cutlass crossed beneath it.
A bitter taste filled his mouth. Damn it all! That's... the Kingdom of Hightens' Pioneer Navigation Colonization Company's privateer fleet! And it's the flagship of that pirate general, 'Sea Hunter' Byron Tudor. Legend says this is the fastest pirate ship in the entire Bantaan Archipelago. We can't outrun them.
Beside him, a confidant sent by the shipowner, the shipowner's representative, suddenly scread, "Can't escape? Quick, organize the sailors to resist, Captain Tom!"
He unhooked the cat-o'-nine-tails from his waist, its nine thin lashes whistling grimly as he brandished it in the air. He roared at the diverse group of mostly raggedly dressed sailors behind him, "You damned swine, get the cannons out! If the pirates steal the cargo, I'll throw every last one of you into the sea to feed the fish!"
The captain and the surrounding sailors stared at the man—who frequently subjected the crew to corporal punishnt—as if he were an idiot. If not for him being a First Order Transcendent, they would have silenced him permanently right then and there.
"Stop the ship! Lower the sails! Drop anchor! Raise the white flag! We... surrender to the 'Golden Deer'."
Captain Old Tom's orders brought a profound sigh of relief from the crew. Mingled with their fear was a distinct hint of thankfulness.
Tis had changed. Recently, 'Sea Hunter', taking advantage of the vacuum in the People of Castilia's defenses, had made his na renowned along this East-West trade route. This privateer, holding a Privateering License from the Kingdom of Hightens, was distinguished by his adherence to rules. It was said that as long as one didn't resist, his thods were far gentler than other pirates. But if anyone dared to "violently resist taxation"—yes, that was the term they'd heard in taverns, an expression pirates shouldn't even utter—he would undoubtedly raise the red flag, making any who resisted regret it for the rest of their lives!
Tsk, now that I finally have so ti to go raiding myself, the targets are becoming less and less challenging. This is already the fourth ship today, and not a single one has put up a fight. It seems the new rules for this East-West trade route are about to be established, thanks to all the hard 'overti' we've put in recently.
On the aft deck of the 'Golden Deer', Byron watched the white flag ascend on the 'Teapot'. He lowered his spyglass and sighed with a touch of resignation.
"Indeed, Captain. For you to personally go out and rob... I an, collect taxes, shows true dedication."
"I think when our Pioneer Pilot Company hands out its 'Model Employee' awards this year, you absolutely must receive a special comndation."
"I agree! You mustn't refuse, sir. It would be an honor for the award itself to be given to you. This is all to encourage the newcors to look up to you..."
A chorus of flattery imdiately arose from the group of apprentice captains beside him. Truly, the flagship's crew were elites; just listening to them, one could tell they had bright futures ahead.
After upending the power structure in the Bantaan Archipelago, Byron finally had ti to attend to his primary occupation. Pirate hunting was rarely the aimless wandering along trade routes that many imagined. Instead, it involved planting spies ashore, even infiltrating rchant ship crews with pirates acting as inside n. Coincidentally, the officials in the native city-states' "Foreign Trade Departnts" were all employees of the Pioneer Guiding Colonial Trading Company. Although they hadn't yet built fortresses or stationed garrisons, training a batch of local pirates for duty posed no problem at all. With their intelligence, lying in wait along the rchant ships' inevitable routes, they made captures with unfailing accuracy. Selling goods with one hand and robbing with the other—a delightful double dip.
THUMP!
A short while later, Byron, leading a group of elite pirates, boarded the 'Teapot'. Their boots thudded on the deck, each step seemingly landing on the hearts of the rchant crew. As 'Sea Hunter's' power and authority grew, so did the profoundness of his imposing presence. He simply asked, "You all know the rules of Pioneer Navigation, I presu?"
Captain Old Tom and his sailors nodded repeatedly. "We've heard, we've heard! Pay a quarter of the cargo's value the first ti, and you receive an exemption from plunder by your company and all its allies. If you go to your company's office and pay the tax proactively before setting sail, it's only a fifth. It's our fault. This is our first ti on this route, so we weren't familiar with the procedures. We apologize for troubling you to handle this personally. Next ti, we'll certainly pay the tax in advance."
As he spoke, he shot a blaming glance at the ship owner's representative beside him. The reason for not reporting the tax in advance was purely that the representative had been gambling, reluctant to part with the one-fifth tax that would have guaranteed them safe passage.
So pirates were extrely cruel, often subjecting resistant captives to severe torture and murder. The fearso reputations of such pirate captains, like Byron's two forr captains, 'Bloody Eye' Salman and 'Red Beard' Edward, were known throughout the Bantaan Archipelago, enough to hush crying children.
But there was also a class of pirates who styled themselves "honorable thieves." Their discipline was relatively better; they saw themselves as Robin Hoods of the sea. After capturing a rchant ship, they usually only took gold, silver, and necessary supplies. Often, they would even return the ship to its original owner and might even offer so of the spoils as a parting gift. Crucially, there was no abuse or killing during this process.
Compared to them, the Pioneer Pilot Company's comprehensive service was the epito of honor among thieves. A voyage yielding at least 155% profit, and only a quarter in tax to avoid being robbed again? That's remarkably conscientious of them. We'll definitely sail this route again!
"I detest those common robbers the most; they have no finesse whatsoever," Byron declared. No one dared to violently correct his pronouncents. "In this world, only death and taxes are inevitable. You see, the captains here are all quite reasonable, aren't they?"
It was a golden age where, with the tiger absent from the mountain, the monkey proclaid himself king. The People of Castilia had suffered heavy losses, their defensive capabilities severely diminished. Until the next wave of reinforcents arrived from their holand or from deeper south, near the 'Serpent of the World · Celestial Current,' it would be a carnival for all other nations. The major Pirate Groups also fought fiercely amongst themselves for the choicest spoils.
And the Pioneer Guiding Colonial Trading Company, leveraging its superior geographical position, its connections throughout the entire supply chain, and its 'attentive' service, seized control of the East-West sea route around Yucatan Island. Without needing to compete with Pirate City Black Sails Harbor for the main artery of the First Circulation Zone, they managed to devour all the lucrative spoils available, leaving only the 'premium pork belly'—the choicest cut—untouched. Although they had to share a portion with their allies, their earnings were far greater than before. By constantly converting wealth into strength, when the People of Castilia eventually return, this place will be vastly different.
A fake pirate says, "Hand over all your money!"
A true pirate says, "Sir, please sign here."
This routine was sothing Mr. Byron Lancaster, pirate and forr Great Noble, knew all too well.
Just as the quartermaster produced a bill of lading—sent directly from the city-state's "Foreign Trade Departnt" by carrier seagull—and began filling out a transfer manifest, he considerately handed it to the captain as proof they had indeed been robbed, sothing to show the ship owner.
Suddenly, a discordant voice rose, "Your Excellency, 'Sea Hunter'! I want to join your privateer ship! I request a public trial! I want to accuse soone on this ship of abusing the crew!"
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