Inside the captain's cabin of the Black Death, Vice Admiral Ailment Tracy was choosing a suitable whip.
Choosing a whip was also a profound art. First of all, the surface of the whip couldn't be too sharp. Otherwise, when tearing through clothing, it could easily accidentally injure delicate skin.
The most suitable whip, combined with the proper amount of force, could tear apart obstructive clothing while leaving a faint red mark on fair, tender skin.
It would hurt a little, but not unbearably so. That slight pain would make someone let out a pleasant moan.
"Helen, tell me, how should I discipline you this time?"
Tracy murmured as the fingertips of her right hand lightly brushed over each whip. In the end, she chose a nearly two-meter-long dark black whip.
Someone who ran away needed to be taught a lesson. She couldn't forgive her so easily every time, or she would still choose to run away the next time.
Playing this sort of game occasionally was quite interesting.
After Tracy had chosen a suitable whip, there was a knock on the door.
"Captain, Helen has been brought aboard."
"Heh, have her go wash herself clean first, then change into a new set of clothes."
A smile appeared at the corners of Tracy's lips. She placed the whip on the table, then lit the candles one by one.
Sometimes, the dim yellow glow of candlelight created a greater sense of mystery and could also conceal certain exciting things that couldn't be revealed to outsiders.
After finishing these preparations, she went behind the desk and sat down, crossing her long, slender legs. Her clothes were also cooler and more translucent than what she had worn during the day, faintly revealing a captivating allure.
Meanwhile, Klein, who had pretended to be captured and successfully infiltrated the Black Death, was suppressing the shame deep within his heart as he began putting on women's clothing.
In his original world, there was a saying: cross-dressing only happened either once or countless times.
Although he didn't think he would become addicted to this feeling in the future, wearing women's clothing actually felt pretty good. It was cool and refreshing, and the fabric felt delicate against his skin.
Fortunately, he had previously practiced the various components involved in cross-dressing. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to dress himself properly without exposing a flaw in this regard.
After changing, Klein walked over to a full-length mirror and looked at the stunningly beautiful version of himself reflected within.
Red hair cascaded down loosely, emerald-green eyes shone like gemstones, and he wore a long golden-red dress. The ribbon around his waist was tied into a flower and pulled tightly, emphasizing his slender waist as much as possible, thin enough to be encircled with one hand.
His face was slightly flushed, as if from shyness, yet also resembling anger and helplessness from being forced into this situation.
Klein stared at himself in the mirror. If he really had to rank it, his appearance while cross-dressing could place among the top three women he had ever encountered.
Those stubborn, unyielding yet helpless eyes made it incredibly easy for others to develop a desire to conquer and discipline him.
Since he still had some time, Klein focused on practicing the emotions in his eyes, trying his best to fit the role so he wouldn't be easily exposed.
Knock, knock, knock!
Someone knocked on the door, and an urging voice came from outside. Klein took a deep breath and made one final adjustment to his state of mind before leaving the room with anger and stubbornness in his gaze.
The blonde maid glanced at him and raised a pair of handcuffs.
"Put your hands behind your back. You're a prisoner now!"
"Hmph!" Klein turned around and allowed her to put the handcuffs on him.
He couldn't help but feel something strange. This kind of handcuff play was something he had only ever seen in certain comics.
After being handcuffed, he followed the blonde maid to the captain's cabin.
"Let her come in alone."
A voice devoid of much emotion came from inside the captain's cabin.
The blonde maid's expression darkened. She pushed open the door and gestured with her eyes for Klein to walk the final stretch alone.
After he entered the captain's cabin, the door was slammed shut behind him.
Klein stepped across the thick carpet and, by the dim yellow candlelight, saw Vice Admiral Ailment Tracy sitting behind the desk.
She wore beige trousers on her lower body and only a white linen shirt on her upper body. The scenery beneath was alluring, but fortunately, her long black hair concealed the most crucial areas.
It had to be said that there truly wasn't an ugly person in the Demoness pathway. Their beauty and allure simply weren't something ordinary people could compare to.
Vice Admiral Ailment Tracy before him was similarly beautiful, and her beauty possessed an aggressive quality. In particular, the way she sized him up made it seem as though she wanted to strip away his dress and take in every inch of his skin.
At a moment like this, Klein instead thought of something else.
Vice Admiral Ailment Tracy before him should originally have been a man, and so was he. Yet here were two grown men doing this sort of thing in a dark room filled with candlelight and a whip.
Fortunately, this world didn't have any mini-cameras, nor was there anyone around to witness him dressed as a woman. Otherwise, he would definitely become tomorrow's front-page headline.
"Come here. Do I need to personally walk over and invite you?"
Faced with Tracy's commanding words, Klein remained standing where he was. He merely raised his chin slightly, his eyes faintly reddened.
Tracy watched him for a moment before walking out from behind the desk and approaching Klein. Her gaze fixed on his reddened eyes.
"Tell me, how should I punish you this time?"
"Coming back here is already the greatest punishment." Klein tried his best to imitate Helen's tone and emotions as he spoke.
"Coming back is a punishment?"
Tracy reached out and stroked Klein's cheek, her hand sliding downward. Her fingers brushed across his collarbone and showed signs of continuing farther down. Her eyes grew hazy as she spoke in an extremely seductive tone.
"You resisted so much at first, but by the end, you were always even more passionate than I was…"
Ma'am, do you even hear what you're saying? I'm still very innocent. I don't understand such suggestive words at all!
As Tracy's fingers continued downward along his collarbone, Klein's left hand strangely slipped free from the handcuffs. He abruptly grabbed her wrist and forcefully yanked downward!
He stripped away the powerful Beyonder item on her hand!
Caught completely off guard, the haze in Tracy's eyes instantly vanished. However, Klein had already seized the initiative. He slammed a heavy punch into her abdomen, causing her to recoil in pain, followed immediately by the sound of a gunshot.
Although she hurriedly dodged, the bullet still grazed her shoulder, sending a spray of blood into the air. Unable to suppress her anger, she shouted, "You're not Helen!"
Klein didn't answer. He merely accelerated his offensive, striving to deal with Vice Admiral Ailment in the shortest possible time.
Unfortunately, he had still underestimated the combat strength of a pirate admiral. Vice Admiral Ailment Tracy possessed other life-saving Beyonder items. The moment she found an opening and shouted that there was an enemy attack, Klein knew it was time for him to leave.
This was the Black Death. There were at least a dozen Beyonders aboard the ship. If they joined forces, they would be more than capable of keeping him there.
An assassin who failed to succeed in one strike should immediately flee far away.
In the end, Klein smashed through a window and jumped into the sea to escape.
The heavily injured Tracy stared sharply in the direction Klein had fled.
Had Helen betrayed her? No, perhaps she had merely been forced into it.
Thinking about it that way, most of the pain and hatred in her heart dissipated. She then looked toward the first mate, second mate, and third mate who had rushed into the captain's cabin and began assigning them tasks. At the same time, she ordered the Black Death to depart at full speed and move far away from its original position.
…
In the middle of the night, at the private harbor of Blue Mountain Island, a female figure emerged from the rising and falling tide. It was Klein in Helen's appearance.
Klein walked out of the seawater and onto the beach. Just as he was preparing to change his appearance and return to the form of Gehrman Sparrow, he suddenly heard a voice from ahead.
"Mr. Hastur, look. There seems to be a girl over there who fell into the water."
The voice was crisp and pleasant. Although it sounded somewhat anxious after discovering that someone who had fallen into the water had survived, it remained elegant and composed.
Mr. Hastur?
Klein's heart inexplicably trembled.
No way, no way. Could there really be such a coincidence? It should just be someone with the same name, right?
Klein didn't even have the courage to raise his head and look. He only wanted to quickly turn around, return to the seawater, and let the tide carry him somewhere else.
Right now, he was wearing a tattered golden-red dress. Part of the upper section had also been burned away during the previous battle, exposing smooth, fair skin, while a rather ample chest could vaguely be seen.
There was nothing he could do about it. Helen herself wasn't small, and in order to properly play the role, Klein had basically recreated every part of her body at a one-to-one scale.
If someone familiar with him recognized his true identity while he looked like this, it would be absolute social death!
The degree of social death would be no less than Roselle personally appearing in the form of a Demoness.
"…" Klein pretended he hadn't heard the voice just now. He turned around and quickened his pace, intending to leave.
"Hey, wait! The wound on your back has opened up. You need treatment. We won't hurt you."
The sound of hurried footsteps chasing after him came from behind. Seeing that he couldn't smoothly get away, Klein could only take a deep breath and hope that the "Mr. Hastur" mentioned earlier wasn't the Hastur he knew.
When Klein reluctantly turned his head, he saw an extremely familiar figure beneath the moonlight.
Hastur Campbell!
It really was that young earl from Backlund!
Klein's facial expression stiffened, and he forced out a bitter smile. Now, all he could do was hope that Hastur hadn't recognized his true identity.
"Miss, you're badly injured. You should have your wounds treated first."
Audrey looked sympathetically at the beautiful young woman whose clothes were in tatters and whose body was covered in wounds. She then glanced at Hastur beside her and reminded him with slight dissatisfaction,
"Mr. Hastur, staring at a lady in distress like that isn't proper conduct for a gentleman."
"My apologies. I just suddenly felt that this beautiful lady looked very familiar."
Very familiar?
Klein accurately grasped the key point of those words and secretly glanced at Hastur. The slightly raised corners of his lips and the laughter that seemed ready to overflow from his eyes were far too obvious.
Klein's heart skipped a beat.
Could he have seen through my identity? No way, right?
Then why do I suddenly feel so nervous?!