Chapter 154: Alger: This person looks familiar.
The atmosphere in the captain's cabin of the Golden Dream was somewhat somber at the moment.
Iceberg Admiral Edwina stood before a large sea chart, her brow slightly furrowed, her fair finger gently tapping a spot marked "Passenger Ship Wreck Site."
Anderson Hood, on the other hand, was sprawled ungracefully on the sofa, his usually jovial face now etched with impatience.
"Damn it, are those Storm Church guys crazy?" he complained. "There aren't any valuable shipwrecks in this area, so why are they sending so many ships to cruise around? Are they fishing?"
They had been in this sea area for almost two days, hoping to investigate thoroughly and see if they could find any trace of Monqi Brando.
As a result, they found nothing but Storm Church patrol boats.
Those ships, bearing the "Storm Holy Emblem," patrolled the area like annoying flies, forcing Edwina, as a Pirate General, to carefully maneuver the Golden Dream to avoid unnecessary conflict.
Whether as a pirate or as a glove of the Church of Knowledge, she was naturally hostile to the Storm Church.
This made it impossible for them to approach the target sea area, directly leading to their search plan yielding nothing.
"It seems I can only try that newly developed secret technique," Edwina murmured to herself.
Conventional search methods had failed, and she was preparing to use some newly invented, more energy-intensive methods to find Luo En's whereabouts.
Just as she was about to begin setting up the ritual, a knock sounded on the captain's door.
"Come in."
A Sailor walked in quickly, respectfully reporting, "Captain, we received an encrypted telegram from Bayam—it's from Danitz."
"Danitz?" Edwina looked up, a little confused.
In her impression, Danitz's vacation should still have some time left. Danitz wasn't the type of person who liked to work, so why would he voluntarily send a telegram to contact her? Had something happened in Bayam?
"What's the content of the telegram?" she asked.
The Sailor craned his neck, glanced at Anderson, and gestured. Seeing that the Captain did not avoid him, but only nodded slightly, he reported everything in detail:
"The telegram says—Danitz saved Brandu during his vacation. Now, Brandu hopes—
to return to the Golden Dream with Danitz and hitch another ride."
A strange silence fell over the captain's cabin.
"Haha—"
"Interesting, this is truly interesting!"
Anderson covered his face, laughing silently. In all his years of adventuring at sea, this was the first time he had encountered something so amusing.
As a Hunter, he had indeed lost track of prey before, but this was the first time prey had reappeared in such an amusing way.
And Iceberg Admiral Edwina, known for her composure and calmness, was uncharacteristically stunned. For the first time, a hint of surprise appeared in her usually placid eyes.
She hadn't expected that the person she was racking her brains to find was actually safe and sound in Bayam, and had even been encountered by her subordinate who was on vacation.
Oh well, at least Brandu is safe.
Bayam, dock area.
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In a dim tavern, filled with the smell of alcohol and sweat, Alger Wilson sat alone in a corner, slowly sipping a glass of Sunia blood wine.
He had just returned from the sea, still carrying a lingering salty smell.
To be honest, he was feeling a bit depressed right now.
As soon as he returned to Bayam, he keenly sensed that something was amiss. This feeling grew even stronger after he reported his mission to his direct superior, Bishop Joggery of the Storm Church.
He truthfully reported that he had searched the area near the wreck site and found nothing unusual or any survivors, except for a few fragments of the passenger ship and some bleached pirate corpses.
Of course, he appropriately exaggerated his workload and some of the losses.
After listening, Joggery just nodded and told him that the mission was temporarily over, and he should stay in Bayam on standby and not act rashly.
Alger was unwilling to be idled like this. He tried to seize the opportunity, cautiously asking the Bishop that he heard the Church had large-scale operations at sea and hoped to contribute to the Church.
Unexpectedly, this statement angered the other party.
"This is not something you should inquire about!" Joggery's face instantly darkened, and he reprimanded in a stern tone, "Wilson, mind your status! Do your part!"
"I'm very sorry, Your Grace!" Alger immediately lowered his head and apologized with trepidation.
Until he left the church, he found that his back was already drenched in cold sweat.
Damn it—
Joggery's reprimand once again made him deeply realize the disparity in status and the powerlessness of having little say.
Must accelerate promotion!
Only by gaining sufficient status can one access the core secrets of the Church and truly control one's own destiny!
Just as Alger drained his wine and pondered his next move, a rough hand gently rested on his shoulder.
His body tensed instantly, but quickly relaxed. He looked back and saw that the person who had come was a slightly corpulent, middle-aged man with a small mustache.
He was the owner of this tavern, and also one of Alger's few trusted friends and intelligence sources here.
It was said that he was one of the agents of a well-known intelligence broker in Bayam.
The boss winked at him, said nothing, and turned to walk towards the back of the tavern.
Alger understood, placed a few pennies on the table, and got up to follow him.
The two, one after another, passed through the noisy bar and the crowded people, arriving at a small cubicle filled with wine barrels and miscellaneous items.
The boss closed the door, cutting off the noise from outside.
"Speak, what noteworthy intelligence do you have recently?" Alger cut to the chase, without any unnecessary words.
"Hey, old rules." The boss pulled out a bottle of what looked like aged wine from behind a barrel, smiling, "If you want to hear the latest news, you'll have to buy this bottle of my treasured old wine first."
"By 'old', you mean this year, right?" Alger asked.
"That's right."
After the joke, Alger stopped talking and quietly watched the other party.
Seeing this, the boss shrugged and stopped playing coy.
He shared a few ordinary pieces of intelligence about infighting within a certain pirate crew, and how a certain trade route's prices had gone up, and then, he lowered his voice, looking mysterious:
"Just these past two days, an interesting bounty suddenly appeared in the circle."
"Bounty?"
The boss held up a finger.
"The bounty is ten thousand pounds."
"Ten thousand pounds?!" Alger's pupils suddenly contracted.
This number filled him with pure shock. One must know that the Official bounty for many pirates who had roamed the seas for years was only a few thousand pounds. A bounty of ten thousand pounds for a live capture, what kind of important person could this be? A renegade noble from some kingdom?
Or a Beyonder who held a shocking secret?
"Who is the bounty for?" he pressed.
"Now this is interesting." The tavern owner's smile became even more playful, "The bounty was issued by a pirate. Who exactly, is still unclear, but to be able to offer this price, their identity must not be simple.
And the one being bountied is an adventurer named Monqi Brando."
Monqi Brando—
Alger quickly searched his mind for the name, but found nothing. This indicated that this Brandu fellow was likely a nobody, at least in Bayam's circles.
How could an unknown person offend a Great Pirate who could offer a ten-thousand-pound bounty?
Alger immediately analyzed, someone who could afford this price would at least be a Pirate General-level figure. How exactly did this Monchi Brandu offend the other party? "Is there a portrait?" he asked.
"Yes." The boss nodded, pulling out a folded, slightly wrinkled wanted poster from his Pregnant.
Alger took the wanted poster and carefully unfolded it.
The wanted poster had a charcoal drawing of a young man's portrait, the artistry was quite good, depicting the person's expression and features vividly.
Alger looked at the person in the portrait, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.
This face... looks somewhat familiar.
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