Shrouded Seascape

Chapter 111. All Beings Suffer

The chaos was overwhelming evidence that Shadow Island had truly sunk. These refugees were those who had managed to escape on boats. Many unfortunate ones without boats suffered the same fate as the island—devoured by the dark waters.

It wasn't merely the loss of one or two lives but the annihilation of millions. Charles had never thought of himself to be part of this Subterranean Seascape, but the vast tragedy and the immense loss of human lives weighed down on his heart.

Besides the merchant ships peddling their goods in the shallow waters, the influx of Shadow Island's refugees brought about new dynamics.

When the Narwhale finally managed to dock, Charles noticed an increase of laborers at the harbor, and most of them bore the distinct features of another island. They were all refugees from Shadow Island.

The moment the Narwhale had docked, all of them swarmed toward the vessel with expectant faces. Upon realizing that it wasn't a cargo ship with supplies, they dispersed with looks of disappointment.

However, there was nothing Charles could do in this situation. He still had other matters to deal with. He gathered the people that he had saved from the island with the Meeh'eks.

Scanning each face, Charles said, "Now that we are ashore, let's part ways here. Perhaps fate will allow us to cross paths again."

Traces of joy appeared on their faces, and the moment Charles' words fell, they immediately sprinted into the inner island. They had returned alive.

Of course, there were also several with good manners. A small man donning a duckbill cap stepped forward and bowed respectfully toward Charles. "Mr. Charles, you're a great captain. May you find a new island soon."

Charles let out a dry chuckle. "Do you consider me great even after throwing people overboard?"

The man shook his head. "As long as you bring your crew safely back to the harbor, you are considered a great captain. Those troublemakers were merely being served their just deserts."

Soon, the group had dispersed, leaving only the Narwhale's crew, Linda, and another disciple of the Divine Light Order. They were all Charles' men.

"Linda, check if Kord has returned. If he has returned, tell me."

"As you wish." Being a woman of few words, Linda crossed her hands over her chest in a Divine Light Order gesture.

She and the other disciple then turned and headed toward the harbor exit.

Charles watched as the two left before turning back to address his crew. Every one of them looked at him with a hint of expectancy and excitement in their eyes.

Skipping the formalities, knowing his crew had little patience for it at the moment, Charles immediately began handing out their wages.

With every sailor walking away clutching stacks of Echo bills, their expressions were alight with happiness. Nothing felt better than the feeling of being alive and receiving one's due payment.

Just as Charles was distributing the crew's wages on the deck, a man with a pipe dangling from his lips was waving his hat excitedly from a nearby dock.

Jack, a sailor on the Narwhale, scampered down the ladder with the stack of bills in his hand. Their joyous conversation drifted into Charles' ears.

"Yo, Jack, my friend! you're finally back! Come, let us celebrate!"

"Stop with this, man. Do you expect me to foot the bill again? You do this every, single, time!"

"My dear cousin, don't say that. I've some good news for you. I heard that some fresh ladies have arrived at Rouge Alley. They're from Shadow Island. They're not only stunning but also quite reasonably priced. If we're lucky enough, we might even get a central islander.

”Just imagining the same snobbish ladies who once looked down on us having to serve us on the bed is... enough to get me going."

"Is that true?" Jack exclaimed.

"Of course! Those women are refugees from Shadow Island. They’re penniless and desperate."

"My oh my... then I should definitely patronize and help these poor ladies."

"Matey, I'm a little tight on cash today, could you perhaps...."

"Alright, alright. It's on me this time."

"My dear cousin, your heart is as magnanimous as the vast ocean."

Charles' hand paused briefly while distributing the wages. However, he quickly dismissed the conversation and started calculating the compensation of the deceased crew members.

He couldn't concern himself with everything he came across.

All beings suffer in the Subterranean Seascape, after all.

After paying the necessary fees to the harbor authorities, the Narwhale and Salin's Divine Radiance were anchored ashore.

With weariness evident in his stride mixed with a hint of relief, Charles made his way to the Bat Tavern that belonged to him now.

The streets saw a rise in waifs clad in grimy, worn-out clothing. The faces of adults, too, were strained with worry.

The harbor area was originally home to the struggling lower classes. With the arrival of the Shadow Island refugees, their hardships intensified further.

However, a specific group of people seemed to embrace the arrival of these refugees. Evangelists from various religions lined the streets and handed out pamphlets. In turbulent times, humans instinctively sought solace in a higher power.

"Mr. Charles! Long time no see!" Hearing a familiar shout, Charles turned around and came face to face with Small Ears from the Sea Serpent Gang.

"What have you been busy with? I haven't seen you around for a long while," Small Ears asked as he approached with a few subordinates. His left hand was wrapped in bandages.

For some reason, Small Ears seemed notably more amicable toward Charles, almost as if he was attempting to win Charles' favor.

"Just some trivial matters. What happened to your hand?" Charles asked.

Hearing Charles' question, Small Ears' features twisted into a hideous expression, and he spat vehemently onto the floor. "The doing of those bloody trash from Shadow Island! They attacked me with knives. How dare they try to encroach on my territory!"

Small Ears wiped his anger off his face and leaned toward Charles. "Let's not talk about that. Someone approached me to give you an offer to do a dirty job for them, will you do it? The pay's really good, and I won't take a cut."

Without a moment's hesitation, Charles shook his head and rejected Small Ears. He didn't want to cause unnecessary trouble at this point. "Sorry, I don't take such jobs."

A tall, lanky man next to Small Ears interjected with a hint of annoyance. "Charles, show some respect to our boss. Our boss is kind enough to—"

Before the man could complete his sentence, Small Ears took out his revolver and struck the man in his face with the handle.

"Who are you to blabber your mouth here? Shut your mouth!!"

After reprimanding his underling, Small Ears turned around with a sheepish smile on his face. "It's okay. No hard feelings. I was just asking, anyway. Do come to my territory and have fun whenever you have the time. You're always welcome."

Charles calmly looked Small Ears in the eyes before he turned and left with the group of mice in tow.

The moment Charles' silhouette disappeared into the distance, Small Ears turned to the tall, lanky man and lashed out in exasperation, "Are you stupid?! How dare you provoke someone like him? Haven't you heard how he wiped out the Razor Cartel?"

"Wasn't he just Charles who ferried goods in that dilapidated cargo boat a year ago? He even transported contraband for us previously," the tall underling replied in a defiant tone.

Small Ears looked toward the direction that Charles had disappeared into. With a trace of envy in his gaze, he remarked, "Don't you get it? He's no longer the same as before. He's not one of us anymore..."