Bacardi Maude—a pirate whose bounty skyrocketed from 100 million to 360 million in an instant—was the hottest topic across the seas.
Half a month ago, he had been navigating the route near Leviathan Island. Now, he was here, on Lore Island.
Service's heart was gripped with unease.
This was a foe he absolutely could not afford to provoke.
"Alter course to the east."
Making a swift decision, Servis issued an order to avoid any confrontation. Even if there was a slim chance of being unnoticed by the Maude Pirates, he was determined to take it.
"First, we'll deliver the supplies to Lorre Island," Servis said.
Under his orders, the Navy warship furled its sails and turned its rudder. Relying on manpower to row the ship, they carefully steered out of the sightline of the Maude Pirates' ship, the Underworld Ferry.
"Bring me the Transponder Snail."
"Yes, sir!"
The adjutant hurried to the communications room. A few seconds later, Servis held the snail in his hand, its eyes and mouth reflecting his grave expression.
He glanced toward the Underworld Ferry's position before dialing a number. Through the Transponder Snail, he relayed the intelligence about the Maude Pirates' presence on Lorre Island back to Navy Headquarters.
After the report was completed, he handed the snail to his adjutant.
The adjutant hesitated briefly before speaking cautiously. "Commodore Servis, I doubt our forces are a match for the Maude Pirates."
"I'm more aware of that than you are," Servis replied, his brows furrowed, the scars on his face twisting into a menacing knot.
Most pirates, when encountering the Navy, would flee at the first sign of trouble. But some would confront the Navy head-on, treating the capture of soldiers and the sinking of warships as a badge of honor.
Similarly, most Navy soldiers, upon encountering pirates, would relentlessly pursue and seek to capture or kill them. However, a select few chose a more pragmatic approach: avoiding unnecessary conflict and waiting for reinforcements.
Servis was one of those who refused to act recklessly.
The moment he spotted the Maude Pirates, his first thought wasn't to engage but to retreat.
Undoubtedly, it was the correct decision.
Still, he couldn't help but worry about Lorre Island's fate. The island's impoverished conditions were already dire, with residents barely scraping by. Now, with a plague ravaging the land, they were plunged into even greater suffering.
The arrival of the notoriously ruthless Maude Pirates could only spell more trouble for the islanders.
"Damn it…"
Servis's concern for the residents' safety weighed heavily on him, sending his thoughts into a spiral of anxiety.
A few minutes later, the warship docked on Lorre Island's eastern shore. Following Servis's orders, sailors began unloading crates of supplies onto the beach.
To prevent the spread of the plague, they avoided direct contact with the islanders. The supplies were left on the shore, where a signal fire was lit to alert Lorre's soldiers to retrieve them.
Before long, all the supplies were unloaded and stacked in neat piles. However, as it was late at night, the signal would not be effective until daylight.
The warship anchored nearby, its crew settling in for a tense and sleepless night.
As dawn broke, sunlight pierced the morning mist. A sailor onshore ignited a bundle of dry leaves, sending thick smoke curling into the sky.
Despite the Maude Pirates' presence on the island, Servis showed no hesitation in ensuring the supplies were delivered.
For Servis, the residents' well-being came first.
Standing on the shore, he watched the rising smoke before silently returning to the ship. Shortly after, the warship set sail, leaving the beach behind.
Two sailors, tasked with reconnaissance, remained behind, discreetly observing the island.
As the warship disappeared over the horizon, the scouts turned toward the forest, equipped with rudimentary protective gear.
Out at sea, the warship cut through the waves. Servis stood at the stern, watching the shrinking figures of the scouts on the distant shoreline.
Avoiding direct confrontation with the Maude Pirates was a necessary choice, but doing nothing at all was equally unthinkable.
Leaving behind the two scouts was better than no action.
Until Navy Headquarters responded, Servis's warship would patrol the waters around Lorre Island.
"Commodore Servis," the adjutant approached.
Servis glanced at him but said nothing.
The adjutant hesitated before speaking softly, "We don't know why the Maude Pirates crossed the route to Lorre Island, but given the island's condition, they likely won't stay for long."
"Hmm." Servis nodded.
"If Headquarters takes action," the adjutant continued, "the Maude Pirates will probably have already left."
"And?"
Servis frowned, turning to face the adjutant.
The adjutant's unspoken suggestion seemed to involve detaining the Maude Pirates on the island. Yet, with their current strength, even attempting to delay them was beyond their capability.
Both Servis and the adjutant were keenly aware of their limitations.
"Commodore Servis," the adjutant said carefully, "we could request assistance from him."
"Hmm?"
Servis's furrowed brows eased slightly as he murmured, "You mean Mr. Issho…"
The adjutant nodded firmly. "Given Mr. Issho's strong sense of justice, I believe he wouldn't refuse."
Servis fell silent, his mind conjuring the image of Issho's warm, composed face.
Their acquaintance had begun a month ago, during a battle to repel a powerful pirate crew. Facing an overwhelming enemy, Servis and his men had fought desperately to protect the civilians.
Despite their best efforts, the pirates' strength was too much, and defeat seemed inevitable.
At the critical moment, Mr. Issho had appeared like a hero, turning the tide.
"You've done well," Issho had said, his words of sincere praise etched into Servis's memory.
Issho was a man of unparalleled strength and an unyielding sense of justice—a figure Servis deeply admired and aspired to emulate.
If Issho intervened, the Maude Pirates would surely be subdued with ease.
However, Issho was not officially affiliated with the Navy. Calling on him might place him in an awkward position.
Servis's expression darkened with contemplation. He was reluctant to trouble Issho unnecessarily, especially if it meant compromising his principles.
The adjutant said nothing further, understanding his superior's hesitation. He respected Servis's unwavering commitment to justice and consideration for others, traits that inspired loyalty among his men.
On Lorre Island's western side, in a small village, the sun was high in the noon sky. Philo, once again wearing her crow-like protective mask, stared in disbelief at what Maude and his crew were doing.
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