Every 50 Power Stones = 1 bonus chapter for this weekend!
*****
As Raviel and the others finally arrived at Bilgewater Bay, Fizz the Yordle waved at them with his usual cheerful grin.
"Thanks for the ride! I'll be heading off here. And… sorry I couldn't give you anything in return," he said with an apologetic scratch on his head.
"It's fine. Really, you don't have to give us anything," Jill replied with a warm smile. "I'm just glad we could help someone in trouble."
"Yeah, Jill's right," Sarah added with a firm nod, backing her up.
"Alright then. I hope you all find what you're looking for," Fizz said, waving enthusiastically before leaping off the side of the ship and diving into the water with a splash.
"Take care!" the women called out after him.
Once the Yordle disappeared beneath the waves, Raviel clapped her hands lightly. "Okay, before we dock, we should change your clothes. You know—so we can blend in more easily."
Her eyes subtly shifted toward Jill and especially Excella. Excella's outfit, thin and revealing, was practically designed to attract every passing man's gaze. On a place like Bilgewater, that was asking for trouble.
"Fine, fine…" Excella sighed, understanding exactly why Raviel kept staring at her.
They headed inside the captain's quarters to change. Jill followed right behind them—she, too, needed to get out of her nanotech suit. At this point it was practically useless; the nanofibers kept short-circuiting in combat, shocking her skin, tearing apart on their own, and offering almost no real protection.
Inside the changing room, Jill finally voiced the question that had been bothering her.
"Raviel… is my nanotech suit damaged or something? It kept malfunctioning when I fought those pirates. It felt like the whole thing was shorting out."
Raviel shook her head. "Your suit isn't broken. It's just that in this world, modern tech gets disrupted by magic. Think of the atmosphere here as one giant EMP field that messes with electronics."
"Oh… that explains a lot," Jill sighed. She placed a hand on her stomach—already showing a slight curve from her nearly two-month pregnancy. "Then do you have a solution? I can't really take chances with our safety anymore."
"Hmm… why not try the equipment Aurelion Sol gave you?" Raviel suggested. "He gave you a ton of great stuff—armors, tools, even weapons. They'd protect you way better. And you should switch out your gun too. Your pistol's fine for normal people, but folks in Bilgewater are… well, hardy. Most of them have the durability of five normal humans."
"That makes sense," Jill said thoughtfully. "But I don't know which one I should use. Can you help me pick something?"
"Sure, let's take a look," Raviel replied with a nod.
Jill reached back and grabbed Excella's wrist. "You're coming too. You need more protection than I do, considering you can't fight."
"H-Hey! Slow down!" Excella yelped, stumbling slightly as Jill dragged her along.
Meanwhile, outside, the Black Pearl continued gliding through the waters toward the docks. A crowd began forming along the pier as the ship approached. People whispered among themselves, pointing at the massive vessel. Even in a place like Bilgewater—used to seeing all kinds of ships—the Black Pearl was impressive.
As the hull creaked and the anchor dropped, the murmuring crowd grew louder.
After all, Bilgewater was always curious about newcomers… especially ones who arrived aboard a ship as grand as this.
You could say that the people here are extremely pragmatic when it comes to accepting newcomers from any land, without showing much discrimination. As long as someone pulls their own weight, pays their dues, and doesn't cause trouble, Bilgewater will usually welcome them with open arms.
However, that doesn't mean they let their guard down. In fact, caution is practically a survival instinct in this place. Bilgewater is a brutal, chaotic port where fortunes rise and fall in a single night—where anyone naive enough to trust too easily might end up robbed, stabbed, or swallowed by something lurking beneath the waves.
Because of that, newcomers must learn quickly. They have to adapt, understand the unspoken rules, read the mood of the streets, and figure out who's dangerous, who's trustworthy, and who's better left alone. Those who can't adjust never last long here. But those who learn fast… well, Bilgewater has a way of turning even the most lost wanderer into someone who belongs.
Jill and Excella were completely mesmerized by the sight before them. As the Black Pearl slowly cut through the mist and approached the docks, the chaotic beauty of Bilgewater came fully into view—towering cliffs packed with ramshackle buildings, creaking wooden walkways suspended by chains, and crooked houses clinging to the rock like stubborn barnacles refusing to fall. Lanterns flickered everywhere, casting an eerie golden glow across the bay. Steam hissed from vents and pipes, mixing with the salty breeze and the familiar scents of rum, gunpowder, and fish.
Voices echoed from the cliffs above—distant laughter, drunken shouting, and the occasional explosion that nobody seemed concerned about.
Jill's eyes widened.
"Wow… this place… I honestly don't even know how to describe it."
Excella gripped the railing, her voice trembling with awe.
"This is insane… Look at those buildings! They're just stacked on top of each other. How do they not collapse?"
Raviel giggled.
"Oh, they collapse. All the time, actually. But people here just build new ones on top of the ruins. Very efficient, right?"
"Efficient, huh…" Jill muttered, her eyebrow twitching. She still couldn't believe anyone willingly lived in a place this dangerous.
As they drifted closer, they saw people crossing rickety bridges between houses, merchants yelling from open windows, and fishermen hauling up enormous sea monsters—some with far too many teeth to be normal—onto the docks.
Excella whispered, amazed,
"This place is like… a paradise for criminals."
"A paradise for everyone," Raviel corrected with a smug grin. "Pirates, smugglers, bounty hunters, monster fishers… the whole colorful rainbow of trouble."
"Great…" Jill muttered, tightening her grip on her newly acquired weapon: a heavy gauntlet capable of firing mana projectiles like bullets, and—according to Raviel—unleashing a solar storm powerful enough to slice a continent in half. After that, the gauntlet would burn out and need seven weeks to recharge with local arcane energy.
For protection, Jill wore the Cloak of Starry Night, a relic that doubled her physical strength and made her nearly invulnerable to attacks from normal humans—both physical and magical. But against truly powerful foes, the cloak's defenses could still be pierced. Even so, Jill felt it was more than enough. After all, Raviel had mentioned that beings strong enough to bypass it were extremely rare in this world.
Raviel, Excella, Sarah, and Abigail wore matching cloaks, partly for protection, partly for style. When the ship finally brushed against the dock, several locals turned their heads. Some looked impressed. Others curious. A few were clearly evaluating whether the newcomers were worth robbing.
Excella swallowed hard.
"Do they always stare like that…?"
Raviel smirked. "Welcome to Bilgewater. If they're staring, it means they're deciding whether they like you, fear you, or want to sell you."
Abigail simply nodded, completely unfazed—Bilgewater's ruthlessness felt familiar to someone who'd lived through worse.
A group of rough-looking dockhands walked by carrying crates twice their size. One of them let out a shrill whistle when he saw Excella and Jill.
"Oi! Fancy ship ya got there!" he shouted. "Hope ya brought coin, newcomers!"
Jill folded her arms.
"Friendly place."
Raviel patted her back.
"Relax. Bilgewater might be brutal, but the people here are surprisingly pragmatic with newcomers."
Jill raised a brow.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning," Raviel said with a playful shrug, "they don't care who you are, where you're from, or what you've done. They'll accept anyone… as long as you don't cause trouble. Or look too weak to survive."
Excella shivered.
"So this is a place where you either adapt fast…"
"Or disappear even faster," Raviel finished cheerfully.
Jill took a deep breath, steadying herself.
"Alright then. New clothes, new gear… I guess this is easy enough."
Raviel clapped her hands.
"Okay! Let's go to the Bounty Hunter's Guild first," she said as Jill and Sarah dragged the captured pirates behind them.
And with that, the group prepared to step off the Black Pearl—unaware that several pairs of eyes were watching them from the shadows. Some curious. Some cautious.
And some filled with dangerous intent.
"Did ya see those ladies, Tobias? Looks like we've got fresh newcomers," Graves grunted, running a thumb along the barrels of his double-barreled cannon.
"I told you to stop calling me by that name, Graves," the man beside him sighed, flicking a gold card between his fingers. "Use my nickname—Twisted Fate. Or TF. I've said this a thousand times."
Graves rolled his eyes. "Tobias, Twisted, Fate—whatever. Ain't much of a difference, partner."
He jerked his chin toward Raviel's group as they disembarked, dragging a line of captured pirates toward the bounty hunter outpost. "So? You thinkin' of robbin' 'em? Could be a good score."
"Nope. Pass for now, friend," TF replied, shaking his head as he studied the card game floating between his hands, arcane symbols glowing faintly. "Maybe next time."
Graves barked a laugh. "Hah! Didn't think you'd gone soft, Tobias."
TF didn't even look up. "Don't you find something… strange about that group?"
Graves blinked. "Strange? What d'you mean? They look normal enough."
Of course, Graves's brain was filled with only three things: money, food, and booze. Women weren't even in the top ten.
TF exhaled sharply through his nose. "Try using that brain of yours for once. Five women—just five—bringing in over fifteen pirates like it was nothin'. And look at their ship. Too big for a crew that small. No ordinary people pull that off, Graves."
"So just say you're scared, partner," Graves smirked, clearly ignoring everything TF had explained for the past minute.
TF finally looked up, annoyed. "Who said I was scared? I'm just stating the obvious: they're not ordinary. But I ain't exactly 'ordinary' either."
He tipped his hat with a lazy flourish, cards shimmering around him like tiny stars.
"Yeah, yeah. You're special. Whatever makes you sleep better," Graves replied, hoisting his cannon over his shoulder as he began walking.
TF sighed but followed.
"Where you goin'?" he asked.
"Where else?" Graves grinned. "We're followin' 'em. Folks like that? Trouble follows. And trouble usually means coin."
A faint smirk tugged at TF's lips.
"Reckless as always."
"And you love it," Graves shot back.
Together, the infamous duo blended into the crowd, trailing behind Raviel's group—unaware that this time, the trouble they were walking toward was far beyond anything Bilgewater usually coughed up.
At the Bilgewater Bounty Hall, the heavy wooden doors creaked open with a long groan. The atmosphere inside was thick with the smell of rum, wet gunpowder, and old sea salt—typical of a place where killers, bounty hunters, and opportunists gathered to trade bodies for coin. Laughter echoed, mugs clanged, and the dim lanterns flickered from the draft rolling in.
But all noise died the moment Raviel and the girls stepped through the doorway.
Five women, walking in unison, dragging behind them a line of tied-up pirate crew like they were nothing more than sacks of fish fresh off the boat. Conversations halted. Even the regular drunks blinked themselves sober for a moment at the rare sight.
Raviel casually tossed the defeated pirates toward the counter—literally tossed, like unwanted cargo.
"Now then, gentleman," she said with a bright, disarming smile, "could you kindly process the bounty for these trash bags?"
Her voice echoed through the hall, pulling every set of eyes toward her.
The old clerk behind the counter—face wrinkled like worn leather, beard gray as seafoam—froze for a heartbeat. Women this beautiful weren't uncommon in Bilgewater, but women who dragged in a dozen infamous pirates like it was nothing? That was a spectacle.
He leaned forward, adjusting his monocle as he began flipping through bounty ledgers with trembling fingers.
When he saw the insignia branded on the captured men, his eyes widened.
Docksy River Crew.
A notoriously violent pirate band with bounties so high that even seasoned hunters hesitated to go after them. Individually, each member was worth around 900 Golden Krakens—a fortune in Bilgewater.
The hall erupted into murmurs.
"No way… that's Docksy River's gang."
"How'd five women take down a whole crew?"
"Did they poison them? Charm them? Or are they monsters?"
The clerk cleared his throat, suddenly sitting straighter, respectful—no, careful.
"R-Right away, ladies. I'll calculate your total payout immediately."
He swallowed hard, bowing slightly.
"Would you like anything to drink while you wait? A seat? Something… stronger? The hall's hospitality is at your disposal."
His voice carried the tone of a man who had lived long enough to know one truth of Bilgewater:
Never underestimate the ones who walk into the bounty hall smiling.
They're always the most dangerous.
People stepped aside as the girls approached the counter, some out of awe, some out of fear, and others simply out of survival instinct. Hunters who normally bragged or boasted over kills quieted down—not daring to compare themselves to the five newcomers who had just made half the hall look like amateurs.
Raviel leaned casually against the counter, her grin sharp and playful.
"Good. Take your time counting. There's no rush."
She knew every single person in the room was watching.
And she enjoyed it.
******
Throw me your Power Stones and your reviews please.
Every bit of Power Stone and review helps me a lot in staying motivated and creating consistently. ❤️
And if you want access to more chapters, you can get them on my P@tr^on.
Link: P@treon(.)com/RRam784
January discount 60% for Patreon
Code: 2A1F7