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Chapter 5

Sean had no intention of selling it from the start.

Of course, one could argue that as long as it never went to sea, it would be fine.

Naturally, he didn't believe in such superstitions—but he didn't want to sell it and then set sail with some reckless bravado. Who knew what misfortune might befall him if he profited from an Ocelton?

With a deeply uneasy expression, he looked at Alexa.

"What if I don't sell this, and you can't come up with the money?"

"…Then I'll pay however you see fit."

"That price has already been set. If you don't have the money in a week—"

For the first time, Alexa's composed gaze wavered. Her bony hand clenched tightly.

"—I'll take you instead. Don't think you can rely on sentiment to get an extension! I have no intention of holding onto this troublesome collateral forever."

Alexa felt goosebumps crawl over her skin, as if cockroaches were swarming all over her body. She hadn't missed the sticky, lecherous gazes fixed on her from the start—she'd just been gritting her teeth and enduring.

She suppressed the urge to turn and run, adjusting her glasses for no reason.

Frameless glasses, an oversized maid's uniform, tightly bound hair, a rigid tone devoid of charm.

So why were they all so desperately obsessed with her?

Alexa brushed aside a few absurdly forced reasons in her mind. None of them were anything short of horrifying, and surrounded by those greasy eyes, she didn't want to stay here a single second longer.

"What do you say, Baron? Handing over one maid is a better deal for you, isn't it?"

James, who had been staring blankly, jolted back to his senses.

That bastard was now coveting his sister Alexa!

He shot up from his chair—but Alexa was faster.

"Agreed."

"Alexa!"

Whether James was shocked or appalled made no difference; for the first time, Sean smiled in satisfaction.

"Good. Then I'll take the Ocelton for now. To be honest, I preferred you over some jewel I can't even use."

"Shut your mouth!"

"Yes, yes, Baron. I know your home and your name. If you're not ready by that day, I'll come and take her myself."

Sean's eyes gleamed as he snatched the gem and pulled it toward himself. The deal was done. James watched, utterly defeated, and slumped back into his chair.

Seeing his expression—as if he'd lost everything—Alexa let out a scoff of disbelief.

If anyone should feel like they'd lost it all, it was her.

She opened the door lightly, showing not a trace of regret for the necklace she had to leave behind.

"Let's go, Baron."

At her voice, colder than midwinter frost, James scrambled to his feet.

---

The departure of one foolish, weak-willed man and one brave, reckless woman left the room instantly buzzing.

Sailors swarmed like a pack of dogs to gawk at the black Ocelton on Sean's table, but none dared touch it—they only spat and gawked.

"Whoa, insane!"

"This is top-grade, isn't it?"

"I've seen one before—but never this fine."

"Ah, move your stinking head! I can't see!"

"Damn, the luster is killer. Can I touch it?"

"Hey, hey! Don't you dare put your filthy hands on it! Do you even know what this is made of?"

At someone's words, everyone turned to look at him. With a grave expression, he lowered his voice.

"It's a monster's heart."

Thwack!

A chicken bone flew and struck the man's forehead.

"Bullshit."

"Drunk? Go sleep it off! Go die somewhere!"

Amid the sudden uproar, someone was watching from a corner of the gambling den.

Behind a pillar in the shadows sat a man occupying a table small for his build, arms crossed.

"What do you think?"

"It appears genuine."

Leaving behind the man beside him who nodded in agreement, he rose from his seat. With long strides, he reached Sean's table in a few steps.

As a large shadow fell over the crowded onlookers, they instinctively scattered. A few keen-eyed patrons recognized him and gasped.

"What…"

Only after the swarm dispersed as if doused with cold water did Sean look up at the newcomer.

Tall and well-built, yet to Sean—a seasoned seafarer with weathered bones—he looked like little more than a greenhorn.

These fools getting scared of a kid like that… Sean chuckled.

Unfazed, the man addressed the bartender, who had been wiping glasses while glancing their way.

"Bring me some saltwater, please."

"Huh? Oh, yes!"

Then he sat down across from Sean as if it were his own seat.

"Hoh?"

Had he drunk too much? The alcohol had hit Sean hard right after the woman left. He squinted at the man, blinking unfocused eyes, and slurred:

"What, you want this Ocelton too? Look all you want! I'm not selling. Poooh—"

He breathed out warm, boozy breaths, but the man showed no reaction.

The man moved only when the glass of saltwater arrived at Sean's table.

Sean had noticed that this fellow couldn't take his eyes off the Ocelton.

'Hmph, stare all you want.'

Surely he wouldn't be crazy enough to grab and run—but even if he tried, it'd be useless.

This body of his—no one could match his reflexes! He could snatch a falling rope in an instant—!

Plop.

He blinked.

The man before him had snatched the Ocelton with invisible speed and, without a moment's hesitation, plunged it into the saltwater.

Watching the Ocelton sink with a crystal-clear sound, Sean sobered up in an instant and leaped up.

"Are you mad! You can't just handle it however—!"

His words died in his throat. From the Ocelton submerged in saltwater burst forth hundreds of brilliant rays of light.

From the black gem that had seemed to swallow all darkness, radiance poured out. Everyone stared, mouths agape, speechless at the breathtaking beauty.

Just as the noisy tavern fell quieter than ever, the man retrieved the Ocelton from the saltwater and casually wiped it on his handkerchief.

"It's genuine. I'll buy it."

Sean, who had been watching as if entranced, snapped back to his senses.

"I said I'm not selling! After seeing that, I'm definitely not selling!"

"Is it because of that superstition?"

"Superstition? Who do you take me for, some cowardly poker? I've been roughing it on those treacherous seas for over twenty years!"

"I see."

The man nodded at Sean's fierce glare that said, Don't you know who this man of the sea is? His apparent agreement cooled Sean's temper a little, and Sean raised his glass again.

"So why won't you sell it?"

As if he'd heard an absurd question, Sean let out a scoff and slammed his glass down.

"Kid… do you know the sea?"

"A little?"

"Right. I bet you've only ever taken a cruise and come here to play. Now listen up, son."

"Sure."

Sean draped his thick arm over the man's shoulder. His sweat-soaked shirt reeked of brine, and his breath carried the sour tang of ale—but the man silently listened.

"I may be an uneducated sailor, but I know a thing or two about the world. I've seen countless fools meet gruesome ends chasing greed they couldn't handle! Greed plastered all over their faces! Tsk. That's why I'm happy just taking what I earn, what's mine."

"Then sell it to me for exactly two hundred nets."

"Ah, shoo. I said no!"

Sean's eyes were now half-lidded. Yet on the matter of selling the Ocelton, he remained stubbornly defensive.

"Listen again, son. Have you ever been out to sea?"

"Yeah."

"Pfft! Probably just a few cruises. Anyway, here's the thing… I absolutely don't believe in that nonsense superstition! But… our crew are a superstitious bunch, so I'm just being considerate."

"Hmm."

The man merely nodded a couple of times at the rambling. Sensing his story was losing credibility, Sean shouted,

"Huh? Don't believe me? If it were just me, I'd have sold it already! But my crew aren't like that. They've got wives waiting, kids… Anyway, there's no reason to make everyone uneasy just to sell it. Besides, if we don't get the money, there's always that girl as collateral…"

"So it's really about that girl."

"Huh, what's that supposed to mean. Anyway, we sailors don't like doing things that leave a bad taste in our mouths. You wouldn't understand… Anyway, I'll return it to its owner…"

Sean withdrew his arm from the man. He scratched his armpit and drank again. Everyone in the hall was already drunk, and the Ocelton, too risky to touch, had lost their interest.

"Then how about this. Don't sell it—transfer it to me instead."

"What kind of wordplay is that…"

"I'll give you two hundred nets right now and take the Ocelton. Then I'll collect the debt from that baron. The McDonner baron, right?"

"Uh, yeah, that's right…"

"You wouldn't be selling it—just the creditor would change from you to me. You understand, don't you?"

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