Due to some inexplicable protagonist luck, Jiaye had accidentally discovered a secret passage aboard the Hodir.
She wandered through it blindly—until she reached the very end.
And there she was—inside the empress's private chamber!
Any normal person would've turned around and run for their life.
Breaking into the empress's quarters? That was an instant death sentence—no trial, no appeal.
But who was Jiaye?
The main character!
The bold survive. The cautious starve.
In a daze, she rummaged through the room—eventually finding a treasure chest in the empress's cabinet.
She opened it.
Holy—legendary gold-tier loot!
So of course, Black knew exactly how to get that dragonbone.
But if he took it, Jiaye would lose her chance to forge her first six-star weapon—the highest tier of gear in the game.
Ah, well.
She's the protagonist. I believe she can still kill Jörmungandr without it.
With that, Black made his decision—firm and final.
"Miss Jiaye… Miss Jiaye!"
The two Dragoncleaver Guards escorting Black suddenly spoke, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Black looked up—and nearly cursed aloud.
Speak of the devil, and she appears!
Jiaye was stumbling toward them, swaying like she was drunk.
Dazed and unfocused, she ignored the guards' warning and stepped straight toward Black.
One guard moved to support her—when suddenly, Jiaye collapsed onto Black!
"Thud!"
Black didn't have time to react.
He was pinned to the ground, their bodies pressed together in an awkwardly intimate tangle.
A delicate fragrance—white orchid—drifted into his nose.
Before he could speak, Jiaye leaned close to his ear, whispering:
"Who are you?"
Black froze.
He hadn't expected Jiaye to move this fast.
But of course. She was cunning, decisive—exactly the kind of person who could rise to slay the dragon king.
"You don't need to know who I am. You just need to know I'm on your side… little orchid."
Black whispered back, calm despite the situation.
But this answer only made Jiaye more uneasy—more threatened.
A control freak like her hated losing control.
So she struck.
In a flash, Black saw the killing intent in her eyes—then twisted his body sharply to the right!
Clang!
A tiny metallic sound—a knife hitting the floor.
The guards didn't notice.
Jiaye missed.
She knew another attack would expose her—so she quickly stood up.
With a soft, innocent smile—pure as a blooming orchid—she said, "Sorry… I had too much to drink."
She bowed slightly to the guards and hurried away.
From start to finish, she played the role of a drunken, clueless beauty—completely fooling the Dragoncleaver Guards.
"Man, Miss Jiaye is amazing—so gentle, so beautiful. If I could marry her, I'd trade twenty years of my life!"
"Pfft. Dream on. She's a count's daughter, top-tier talent. You really think she'd look at you?"
The guards chuckled, oblivious to Black—now pale, drenched in cold sweat.
Facing Jiaye directly? Terrifying!
If he hadn't played the game, known she always aimed for the heart, and dodged just in time—he'd be dead.
His emotions were a mess.
Back when he played, he'd treated Jiaye like a daughter—even bought her fancy skins with real money.
And now?
She almost killed him.
Thinking of that sweet, kitten-like girl curled in his arms—then striking with such ruthless precision—sent chills down his spine.
Next time I see her, I'd better be extra careful.
After that, the guards escorted Black to the Wilton.
"This is your room. Get in."
They opened a cell door at the end of the hall and gestured inside.
Sigh.
Black groaned. Now he'd officially done time.
But the moment he stepped in—his face froze.
This was a double cell.
And already occupying one of the beds—was Loyre!
Oh no.
Black felt a wave of dread.
Loyre already hated him.
And now he'd surrendered to the empress?
She was probably already planning a hundred ways to make him suffer.
"Guard, I need a room change! Men and women shouldn't share space!"
"Only one double cell left. Take it or leave it. Otherwise, go sleep in the dog kennel."
"…"
Black had no choice. He entered, utterly humiliated.
As expected, the moment he stepped in, Loyre's eyes locked onto him—cold, sharp, unblinking.
Forcing a nervous grin, Black greeted her:
"Ahaha… the moonlight's so beautiful tonight!"
"It's noon."
Loyre's voice was icy.
"Ahaha… my bad! I meant—the sunlight is so beautiful!"
But Loyre had no patience for his nonsense. She cut straight to the chase:
"Who are you?"
Huh…
This again?
"Whaaat? Sister-in-arms, you don't remember me? I'm the boy from the fishing village—destined to become the Pirate King!"
He grinned, playing the fool.
Loyre didn't respond.
Instead, her expression grew colder—so cold the room seemed to freeze.
"Fine. Truth is… I'm just an ordinary guy."
Black shrugged, giving up.
"Someone who knows where Jörmungandr is? Impossible to be ordinary."
Her gaze never wavered, pressing harder.
"And how do you know my real name? Why did you say my father wasn't killed by the royal family? What do you know?"
F**.*
Black knew this was coming.
But he didn't actually know—he'd only seen it through the Omniscient Glasses.
He couldn't exactly say: Ask the glasses, they told me.
"Ahem. Don't ask. The truth will come when the time is right."
Black chose to be mysterious—spouting nothing but vague, useless words.
"Anyway, I'm going to sleep. And I'm warning you—if you want answers, don't attack me while I'm sleeping!"
Then he flopped onto the bed, pulled the blanket over his head, and started snoring loudly.
Seeing this, Loyre could only grit her teeth in frustration—completely powerless.
But what Black didn't know was this:
Once he was truly asleep, Loyre pulled out several mysterious spell scrolls—one by one, she tore them open.
The instant each scroll was torn, it transformed into a spell array—and fused into her body.
"No matter the truth… the imperial family will pay for their sins. I won't let this chance slip away."
No one knew what she was planning.
Only that her eyes burned with rising murderous intent.
Afternoon sun bathed the sea in golden light, the waves shimmering like scattered coins. A few seagulls perched on the deck of the Wilton, riding the gentle breeze.
The Wilton sailed just behind the flagship Hodir, moving steadily through the open ocean.
In the royal fleet, if the Hodir was a merciless dragon-slaying machine, then the Wilton was the empire's coldest, hardest floating prison.
This massive ironclad vessel had all exits sealed—except for minimal ventilation shafts.
From afar, it looked like a mobile fortress of steel, impenetrable and grim.
With elite Dragoncleaver Guards stationed inside, even a bird couldn't escape.
Yet, the Dragonheart Empire wasn't entirely cruel to prisoners.
As long as your crime wasn't unforgivable, you still had basic rights.
And if you held special value? The treatment was exceptional.
Take the feast laid out before Loyre right now:
Bonito broth with sea spider lobster,
Imperial crab mousse,
Whale-fat pan-fried cod throat,
Crab meat bird's nest soup,
Bluefin tuna sashimi,
And a bottle of 50-year vintage premium rum…
Just this spread alone cost at least ten gold coins.
And one gold coin could feed a poor family for a year.
The dishes were exquisite—color, aroma, taste—all perfect. The scent alone made mouths water.
The White Pearl pirates hadn't eaten anything decent in ages.
For weeks, it had been potatoes, sweet potatoes, and the occasional fish.
Meals so bland they made sawdust taste gourmet.
Yet Loyre sat motionless—elegant, composed, a noblewoman in silence.
She glanced once, then closed her beautiful eyes, resuming her meditation.
Most of the crew followed her lead.
A few younger ones like Yulier were visibly drooling, but with the captain silent, they dared not touch a thing.
After all, being captured was already a disgrace.
If they broke over food? That'd be true humiliation.
But one man clearly didn't care about pride.
"Slurp…"
"Slurp… munch… munch…"
The sound of chewing shattered Loyre's calm like a hammer on glass.
She frowned slightly, trying to ignore it.
"Whoa, this shrimp is insane! Damn, this crab is perfection! Holy crap—this tuna is worth living for!"
This bastard wasn't just eating—he was noisy, obnoxious, commenting on every bite!
Loyre snapped. Her eyes flew open, blazing with fury as she glared at Black.
Why the hell did the guards put him in the same cell as me?!
Feeling that murderous intent, Black glanced at Loyre's face—then at her untouched meal.
"What? Not hungry?"
"You traitor! No—coward! Don't you have any pride?!"
Loyre's chest heaved with rage. That smug, grinning face made her want to explode.
If she had a bomb, she'd shove it down his throat.
"Ha! Says the one whose stomach's been growling nonstop since lunch started. Just eat already. Why suffer?"
Black tore into a crab leg, speaking through a full mouth.
Caught.
Loyre's flawless face flushed crimson.
She opened her mouth to retort—when her stomach growled again.
"Grumble."
"Heh. Told you."
Black grinned, shameless as ever.
She hadn't eaten since yesterday. Of course she was starving.
"You—!"
"What 'you'? Not eating? Then let me have it. No point wasting food."
Black reached for her untouched tray.
Loyre couldn't take it. She grabbed his arm—hard—and squeezed.
"Ow! Damn it, woman! I haven't even gotten back at you for kicking my ass yesterday!"
The commotion made Hans sigh in despair.
The White Pearl had once been a disciplined crew.
But ever since this brat arrived, everything had turned absurd.
Sure, it was livelier—but this wasn't how pirates should act.
Even their usually composed, dignified captain kept losing her cool.
And after the failed assault, the crew had suffered heavy losses—nearly half dead.
Now imprisoned on the Wilton, they were like fish on a cutting board—helpless, waiting to be slaughtered.
Yes, Elizabeth had spared them.
But "spared" didn't mean freedom.
Minor crimes might go unpunished—but the empire wouldn't just let them go.
At best, they'd be locked away for ten years.
The White Pearl Pirate Crew might be finished.
Hearing Hans's sigh, Loyre's expression darkened.
She returned to her brooding silence, ignoring Black completely.
Black looked around at their gloomy faces and laughed.
"Hey, instead of moping, why not just eat?"
"You need energy to fight the empire later!"
"Wait—no, you probably can't fight them. But you can escape!"
"Learn from this loss. Escape, lay low, grow stronger—then come back and hit the empire harder!"
"Where there's life, there's hope!"
Yulier snapped, annoyed.
"Black, you're so naive. Never heard of the Sea Steel Fortress?"
"This Wilton was built by Ithan, the Alchemist Sage and Third-ranked Round Table Knight!"
"Once locked in, even high-tier swordsmen can't escape. What chance do we have?"
The others nodded, agreeing.
"In theory, yes…"
Black suddenly lowered his voice.
The others leaned in, curiosity piqued.
"But… what if I told you I know how to escape—and the route?"
That hit like lightning.
Everyone—except Loyre—jolted upright.
All traces of defeat vanished.
"Seriously?! You're not messing with us, are you?"
Yulier voiced everyone's doubt.
Coming from a traitor, this sounded too good to be true.
"If I wanted to mess with you, I wouldn't have traded intel to save your lives yesterday."
"…Fair point."
They nodded, now fully attentive.
"The method is this: at exactly 3:00 AM, three novice sorcerers must cast a spell using this formation."
Black dipped his finger in oil and drew a hexagram on the floor.
"Must be exactly 3:00 AM—not a second early or late. And the formation must be perfect—no mistakes."
For once, Black wasn't joking.
His tone was dead serious.
The others stared at his intense eyes—and believed him.
"This is how we break the cell door."
Hans's heart, once lifeless, now burned with hope.
For some reason, he trusted Black.
If they could escape… the White Pearl still had a chance!
"But what about the route out of the Wilton? Just breaking the door isn't enough. If we get lost or run into guards, we're done."
Hans asked the critical question.
"As for the route…"
Black scratched his head, then grinned sheepishly.
"Sorry. I forgot. Can't remember it right now."
"You—!"
Hans, Yulier, and the rest of the pirates nearly spat out blood in frustration.
What is this?! A cliffhanger?! This is worse than a cliffhanger!
Black waved his hand, shrugging. "I really did forget."
"Still, don't worry. Some fish were never meant to stay in a tank—because every single scale on their body shines with the light of freedom."
"Just give me a little more time. I'll remember."
Hearing that, Hans and the others had no choice but to wait.
But what they didn't know?
Black was lying.
He remembered the entire escape route from the Wilton—perfectly.
Because in the game, there was an exploration quest set entirely aboard the Wilton.
Players had to control the protagonist, avoid the Dragoncleaver Guards' line of sight, map every room—some hiding treasure chests, others rigged with traps that would imprison you if triggered.
It was a notoriously difficult quest.
Even Black had failed multiple times—only completing it after studying a top player's guide on the game forums.
So yes—he knew the route.
Exactly.
Then why not tell them?
Because Black had bigger plans.
Letting the pirates escape too early would only complicate things.
After a moment, Black realized something was off.
Why had this woman been so quiet for so long?
From the start, Loyre hadn't shown any interest in his talk of escape routes.
As if she didn't care about breaking free.
Noticing Black's suspicious gaze, Loyre didn't bother responding.
She simply said, coldly:
"You can escape if you want."
That—that was when Black's instincts screamed.
Loyre might be stubborn, but she wasn't stupid.
She wasn't the type to charge headfirst into certain death.
And now, with a real chance to survive—to escape—she just… didn't care?
That was impossible.
Too unnatural.
If he asked directly, she'd never tell him anything.
But Black had a feeling.
This woman—always one step ahead—was planning something in secret.
On instinct, he activated his Omniscient Glasses.
And then—he froze.
[Name: Loyre (False) / Karin von Braun (True)]
[Identity: Captain of the White Pearl Pirate Crew (False) / Noble Heiress of the von Braun Duchy (True)]
[Class Level: Lv.91 Emperor-Tier · Gold Assassin]
[Favorite Food: ???]
[Hobby: ???]
[Critical Info: The one who killed Duke von Braun was not a member of the royal family]
[Expected Fate: ???]
Where it once said Lv.40 Mid-Tier · Gold Sorceress, it now read Lv.91 Emperor-Tier · Gold Assassin.
?
??
???????????????????????
Staring at those words, Black felt his heart lurch up his throat.
His eyes locked onto the screen—unblinking.
Could someone please tell the damn game designer to explain what the hell this is?!
How did she jump from Level 40 to Level 91 overnight?!
And why did her class change from Sorceress to Assassin?!
This was way too much information!
Black started questioning if he was even a real player.
Even the richest pay-to-win players didn't get upgrades like this!
In Dragonblood, the level system was simple:
1–30: Novice Tier
31–50: Mid-Tier
51–60: High-Tier
61–70: Peak-Tier
67–80: Super-Tier
81–90: Dragon-Tier
91–99: Emperor-Tier
Each tier was further divided into five ranks—Bronze, Silver, Gold, Diamond, Star—based on cultivation depth.
At the same tier and level, higher ranks dominated lower ones.
Gold > Silver > Bronze.
Level 100 had no tier—it was the pinnacle of the world.
The Twelve Sages and Twelve Dragon Kings from ancient times were all at this level.
Beyond that? Divine-Tier—a realm of gods.
Only legends spoke of it.
In this era, no one had reached Level 100.
Level 99 was the absolute limit.
Across the entire Dragonheart Empire—and all of Cassel Continent—only a handful had reached Emperor-Tier.
Each was a legendary powerhouse.
Empress Elizabeth was one of them.
But she'd earned it—through countless battles, near-death trials.
How could Loyre, a girl barely out of her teens, suddenly be Level 91?!
Black knew the game never mentioned this.
He was certain—this power wasn't permanent.
It was forced growth.
Like a seed yanked from the soil—unnatural.
But how?
In this world, what method could instantly boost her level and change her class?
Drugs? Rare materials? Soul transference?
No.
Wait—magic scrolls.
Black suddenly remembered: there were high-tier spells that could temporarily boost power and even transform one's class.
But casting such spells required a Dragon-Tier or higher sorcerer.
Loyre, a mere Mid-Tier, couldn't possibly do it.
That left only one possibility: magic scrolls.
In the game, magic scrolls were incredibly rare.
Each contained a single spell—allowing anyone to cast high-tier magic regardless of level or class.
To achieve this kind of power spike, Loyre must've obtained an SS-rarity ancient spell scroll—from some long-lost ruin.
But why use such a rare, irreplaceable item?
The answer was obvious:
To assassinate Empress Elizabeth.
!!!
At that moment, Black remembered a critical detail he'd forgotten.
In the prologue, why did the Lv.91 Emperor-Tier Empress lose to Jörmungandr?
Yes—Jörmungandr had the Abyssal Rift buff.
And the Dragonblood Council sabotaged from within.
But there was another reason—one the game barely mentioned.
Before the battle, Empress Elizabeth had been assassinated.
She was severely wounded—her power shattered.
The game glossed over it. Never revealed who did it—Dragonblood Council? Another faction?
Players rioted, accusing the devs of artificially nerfing the empress just so the protagonist Jiaye could shine.
But the devs never responded.
Was it a mistake? Or a hidden clue?
Now, it made perfect sense.
The Dragonblood Council's agents, while strong, couldn't seriously injure the empress.
And if they struck before the battle, they'd expose themselves—ruining their entire plan.
But Loyre?
A girl with a personal grudge, a secret identity, and now—Emperor-Tier Assassin power?
The pieces fit.
The one who wounded the empress…
was almost certainly Loyre.
No wonder Loyre had ordered the White Pearl to attack the royal fleet despite knowing the overwhelming power gap.
She'd never intended to win with her pirate crew.
Her goal all along was to use the chaos as cover—infiltrate the royal fleet, wait for the perfect moment, then unleash the scroll's power and assassinate Elizabeth.
True, the pirates who died had volunteered—driven by their own hatred of the empire.
But Loyre had used them.
Exploited their loyalty to serve her revenge.
Black stared at Loyre, his gaze complex.
The red-haired girl beside him seemed to have been swayed by his earlier words.
She gently tucked a strand of silky hair behind her ear and began eating her lunch—slowly, elegantly, like a noble lady.
Every bite was poised, refined.
Yes. She truly was a duchess's daughter.
With Emperor-Tier Assassin power, no wonder she didn't care about escape routes.
She could just activate the [Shadow Step] skill and phase through the cell door.
Black rubbed his temples.
Should he stop her?
If Loyre wounded Elizabeth, the path to the good ending would collapse.
But how could he stop her?
First—she wouldn't listen to him. He had no words that could sway her.
Second—she could've killed him with a spell before. Now, at Lv.91? She could poke him to death.
Force was impossible. Reason was useless.
Sigh.
Leave it to fate.
Black let out a long, weary sigh.
Why was this game so hard?
Too many variables. Too many twists.
And he didn't have the protagonist's fate-blessed luck.
Still… one thing nagged at him.
In the original prologue, Loyre did wound Elizabeth—but the assassination failed.
She was captured and thrown into the imperial dungeon.
Even stranger?
Elizabeth didn't execute her.
She was merely placed under house arrest.
Since Black hadn't played the Dragonblood sequel, he didn't know why.
But his gut told him—Elizabeth and Loyre shared a deeper connection.
No.
If he stayed locked in that cell, he'd have zero control.
He needed to get out.
Better yet—get aboard the Hodir.
There, he could:
Steal the Violet-Gold Dragonbone.
Adapt to the unfolding plot in real time.
But how to get out legitimately?
His eyes turned to Loyre.
And in the middle of her stunned stare, he said:
"Hey, Captain… do me a favor. Can you beat me up? Turn me into a pighead?"
Loyre froze.
This guy's definitely insane.
"Are you crazy?"
When she didn't cooperate, Black steeled himself.
After a moment, his expression twisted—perverted, lecherous—his eyes crawling over her smooth, exposed skin.
"Heh heh… Since you're too soft to hit me… we're alone in here, right? Shouldn't we… pass the time somehow?"
"Like how?"
Loyre's voice was ice.
"Well… you're so beautiful, so sexy… we could do some fun things…"
Before he could finish—WHAM!
A fist the size of a sandbag slammed into his face.
Huh. Smelled nice, though.
After that tiny internal comment, Black's wails echoed through the entire Wilton.
Hans and the others stared in shock.
What did he do this time to piss off the captain?
A few Dragoncleaver Guards rushed over—only to find a face that now resembled a pig's snout.
"Guard! Save me! This woman's a violent psycho!"
"Please tell Her Majesty—I'd rather be a deck cleaner on the Hodir than stay here!"
Black sobbed, pouring out real emotion.
He hadn't expected her to actually hit that hard—it hurt like hell!
"…Fine."
The guard looked at the grotesque face and gave up.
If Black died in the cell, they'd have to answer to the empress.
Ten minutes later, the guard returned.
"Her Majesty has agreed. You'll serve as a menial laborer on the Hodir."
"Yes! Perfect!"
Plan succeeded.
Black decided the beating was worth it.
Loyre watched his smug, greasy grin and knew—he was up to something again.
This traitor, this coward, this pervert—always one step ahead.
What was he planning?
Whatever.
After she assassinated the empress, she'd never have to see him again.
A flash of cold, murderous intent flickered across her delicate face.
****
"You're the new one, right? Heard you were a daring pirate who attacked the royal fleet."
Housekeeper Mary sneered at the boy in ragged coarse cloth.
As head housekeeper of the imperial palace, Mary oversaw all cleaning operations—commanding servants with iron discipline.
Now, on this campaign, she managed the entire royal fleet's domestic affairs.
She considered herself the First Housekeeper of the Dragonheart Empire, a true member of the royal household.
The empire's honor was hers. Its pride, hers.
And the pirates who attacked the fleet?
They'd trampled that honor.
They'd insulted her.
So Mary gave Black zero mercy.
"I hear you were a deck cleaner on the pirate ship? Good.
Your task today—clean every inch of the Hodir's deck."
"Fail to finish? No dinner.
If I find one speck of dust? No dinner."
As Mary marched off with her imposing stride, Black's face turned pitch black.
You damn power-tripping old hen!
Do you even know how huge the Hodir's deck is?!
It's fifty times the White Pearl's!
Finish it today?!
I couldn't finish it in a week!
You just don't want me to eat!
Sigh.
When in someone else's house, you bow your head.
Black felt utterly miserable.
Ever since arriving in this world, he'd either been cleaning decks—or on his way to clean decks.
He'd become a deck cleaner.
Whatever.
No point arguing with this old hag.
He grabbed a mop, lifted a bucket, and started scrubbing.
By sunset… he'd finished one-tenth of the deck.
"You couldn't even finish this? No dinner tonight!"
Mary came back, pointing her finger, screeching like a broken alarm.
Black panted, exhausted—wishing a sea dragon would leap out and swallow this damn hen whole.
But dreams were dreams.
Now, this once-mighty gamer lived a life worse than a dog.
So when the Hodir's mess hall opened for dinner, Black could only stand aside—drooling helplessly.
Damn it!
At this rate, I'd be better off back in the Wilton's prison cell!
Though bitter, Black had no choice but to leave the mess hall—out of sight, out of mind!
"Grumble… grumble…"
But his stomach wouldn't be ignored. He hadn't eaten all day.
Tightening his belt, Black muttered to himself:
Just endure it. Endure a little more. Once the prologue ends, I'm going back to the fishing village, marrying the village beauty—no more of this crap on this damn ship.
He found a clean spot on the deck and sat down—when suddenly, he heard soft sobbing.
He froze.
Creeping around the wall, he spotted a girl sitting with a tray, eating while crying.
Tears dripped into her soup, but she didn't seem to notice.
She had long, pale golden hair flowing over her shoulders, adorned with an elegant iris hairpin.
Her eyes were a soft violet—clear, bright, filled with innocence.
Dressed in a dark gown with golden trim and a delicate bow, she looked refined, graceful.
Her exquisite beauty, dotted with tears, made Black's heart ache.
The moment he saw her face, he knew who she was.
Elaina—the protagonist of the novel The Girl Who Slayed Dragons Longs to Be Loved.
In many ways, compared to Jiaye, she was the true main character.
But this wasn't the novel's world.
This was the game's world.
And in this world, Elaina's fate was death.
So, seeing her like this, Black couldn't help but feel pity.
Watching her cry, he recalled the scene from the original story.
Yes—there was a scene where Elaina cried while eating.
She was a bastard duchess, born to a servant mother.
Constantly bullied by her legitimate sisters—a classic Cinderella story.
But unlike Cinderella, Elaina was stronger.
She only cried in private, never showing weakness in public.
And after every tear, she grew tougher, wiser, faster.
She wasn't a fate-blessed prodigy.
She was a growth-type protagonist.
As someone who'd read the novel and played the game, Black couldn't say whether he admired Jiaye or Elaina more.
After watching quietly for a moment, he noticed Elaina's sobs were tiny.
She was clearly heartbroken—but afraid of being heard.
Such a poor little thing.
For some reason, even though he knew interfering with the plot was dangerous, Black felt an irresistible urge to comfort her.
After a long pause, he finally spoke.
"Hey. What're you crying about? You've got food—so why cry? Me? I haven't eaten at all. Should I just jump into the sea?"
"...!"
The sudden voice made Elaina freeze.
She wiped her tears with her sleeve, her expression shifting from sorrow to cold, guarded hostility.
She wouldn't let anyone see her weak.
That was what her late mother had taught her.
"Who are you?"
Elaina stared at Black, voice sharp.
Then she recognized him.
"You're that pirate from earlier? What are you doing here?"
"Heh. I'm the deck cleaner. This whole deck is my territory. Why wouldn't I be here?"
Black answered with fake seriousness.
"But you—aren't you a duchess? Why are you crying so hard?"
"I'm not crying!"
Elaina stubbornly denied it.
Oh? Still got fight in you, huh?
"Heh. Why don't you go look in a mirror first? See those puffy, swollen eyes—then tell me you're not crying."
Elaina flushed red with embarrassment, her lips pressed into a tight line.
"Don't tell anyone!"
"Tell anyone what? The fact that you're crying like a little bunny?"
Black found her adorable—like a tiny rabbit baring its fangs at him.
No matter how fierce she looked, she just seemed adorably dumb.
But he didn't expect this to push her over the edge.
Elaina gritted her teeth, glaring at him—hard.
Then—whoosh!
She hurled her fork like a dagger—stopping just an inch from Black's heart.
Even rabbits bite when cornered!
Black jumped.
Why are all the girls in this world violent maniacs?!
"Alright, alright! I swear—I won't tell anyone you were hiding here, crying like a baby!"
Only then did Elaina pull back the fork, sitting down with a huff.
"Come on, spill it. Who bullied you?"
"None of your business! I wasn't bullied!"
Elaina shot him a glare, refusing to admit she'd been reduced to tears.
"I bet it was your dear sisters, right? Dear duchess?"
"How do you know?!"
Elaina was shocked. No one should've seen it.
"Not only do I know—I also know you've been stuck at Level 19, unable to break through to 20—that's why they mocked you."
That stopped her cold.
"You've been stalking me?!"
"No, no, no! I guessed! Wait—figured it out!"
Black hadn't expected her to jump to that conclusion.
"Liar! How could a Level 10 person know I'm stuck at 19?!"
Elaina now seriously suspected he was a creepy stalker.
"…Ahem. Just—don't ask how I know. To make up for my rudeness earlier—I know a way to help you break through to Level 20. Right now."
Black leaned in, voice low and mysterious.
"Interested?"
"…No."
Elaina's reply was firm.
A guy her age—lower level than her—how could he possibly know how to break through?
He was definitely up to no good.
She wasn't some naive, innocent girl.
Seeing her disbelief, Black didn't back down.
"What if I told you… I know where on this ship you can find Obsidian Nectar?"
At the words "Obsidian Nectar", Elaina reacted instantly.
She turned her head away, but her ears—like a rabbit's—perked straight up.
Got her.
"And I guarantee—if we work together, we can get our hands on it."
Black spoke slowly, dripping with temptation.
Elaina hesitated—only for a moment.
Then, she made her decision.
"…Fine. I'll trust you once. But if you try anything, I won't let you go."
Pfft.
A little bunny's threats are never scary.