[TIDK] 131 – The Worth of Sand

June 3

In the bustling capital, numerous young men hailing from pirate islands had found themselves under Viktor's authority.

As Viktor pushed open the creaking warehouse door and ventured inside, armed sailors swiftly closed in, their weapons raised. Yet, their expressions transformed into smirks of recognition upon glimpsing the familiar face of their intruder.

"Captain, isn't it?" they remarked.

"Long time no see," Viktor replied.

Advancing closer, the armed sailors halted as the warehouse door swung wide open, revealing the sight behind it. A formidable contingent of naval personnel stood in formation, positioned steadfastly behind Viktor. Inside the warehouse, the men who had once brandished weapons now uttered curses, discarding their arms and kneeling, hands placed firmly behind their heads.

Stepping forward, Evan seized the moment to interject.

"If the captain had come alone, what would you have done?"

"We wouldn't have taken such measures," came the steadfast reply.

"Is that so?" Evan pondered, sensing the weight of Viktor's presence and the loyalty he commanded.

Amidst Evan's genuine laughter, the naval personnel made their way into the warehouse. Viktor scanned the young men from the pirate islands, his gaze landing on one individual whom he singled out with a gesture. The chosen youth, covered in dust, rose with a string of curses.

As someone who had associated more closely with pirates than the citizens of Salantier, Viktor couldn't help but identify the leader among them—the one with the most valuable information.

The young man entered a dusty side room attached to the warehouse, tightly closing his eyes. Viktor approached and punctured a stack of sandbags with a folding knife, causing a cascade of sand to pour out.

"It's just sand. We've been using it to build our homes here," the young man retorted with a hint of frustration.

"Well then, I suppose I can take some," Viktor replied casually.

"We've been trying to live decent lives here, just like anyone else. Why do you confiscate whatever you please?" the young man questioned, his voice tinged with a mix of defiance and exasperation.

"I'll pay for it," Viktor declared firmly.

In response, Blythe pulled out a wallet made of water buffalo leather and extended it toward Viktor. The captain continued, his tone measured, "How much would you say twenty bags of sand are worth?"

"..."

Silence hung in the air as the young man contemplated his response.

The young man, who had been rendered speechless, finally found his voice.

"It's not a hallucinogen."

*The sand conceals drugs

"Oh? Then what is it?"

"It's a remedy."

As the young man spoke hesitantly, another crew member of Viktor's, of similar age, arrived, letting out a sigh of relief before addressing them.

"So, you've already seen the remedy."

"Harold."

With Harold's arrival, Viktor approached him, closing the distance.

"Now we can have a conversation."

Harold's gaze, intense enough to convey a desire for vengeance, clashed with Viktor's, yet he couldn't help but break into a raspy chuckle, showcasing his scarred face.

As Viktor drew nearer, Harold raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, taking a step back.

"Isn't this going a bit too far? Pushing me once and now coming to extract any information you can?"

"You bear many wounds."

Viktor's words prompted Harold to scratch the long scar running across his left cheek.

"Yes, thanks to you, my facial features still function properly, Captain."

Having forsaken everything and defied death as a pirate, Harold vividly remembered the diabolical Viktor Dumfelt, who had apprehended him.

He was convinced he would never forget Viktor's expressionless face and steadfast voice until his dying moment.

He clung to life for two reasons. First, he was responsible for leading the remaining people from the pirate islands. Second, he believed that one day the Goddess of Revenge would perch upon his shoulder, leaving her indelible marks on Viktor Dunfelt's resplendent face, just as if they were his own scars.

Harold spoke up.

"It seems you're interested in the remedy."

"Yes," Viktor replied.

With a gesture from Viktor, Evan promptly led everyone out of the warehouse.

Only Harold and Viktor remained behind, creating an atmosphere of solitude.

Breaking the silence, Harold addressed Viktor.

"You must be aware that the remedy you wrote to the Crimson Earl is the one we distribute. You secretly arranged for an escort."

"That's correct."

Harold's words echoed, "To come seeking me with information obtained by betraying the admiral. Isn't it truly ironic?"

Wearing an indifferent expression, Viktor gazed at him before slowly parting his lips.

"One of your flaws is that you're too loose-lipped."

"I'm not usually loose-lipped. I only spoke up because I thought I might actually die soon," Harold hesitantly replied.

"Was the fear of death overwhelming?"

"No, to seek revenge against the captain someday, I must stay alive."