All hope seemed to drain from Solved. Time slowed, every blade glinting as the sailors closed in to butcher him. He braced for death—for the second time.
Then....
A clean arc whistled through the air. A sailor's head spun free, thudding across the deck. Crimson spilled.
Solved's eyes snapped open. Andrew stood over the corpse, blade dripping, gaze colder than the sea itself.
The others whirled to face him, steel half-raised. Solved seized the moment—snatching a sailor's arm, wrenching the cutlass from his grip.
Back-to-back, their breathing steady, the two of them stood ringed by snarling sailors.
The real fight—their first as a team—was about to begin.
They locked eyes for a heartbeat — no words, no plan — and then moved.
It was like a rhythm neither had practiced yet somehow both knew.
A sailor lunged at Andrew, but Andrew only tilted his blade, redirecting the strike straight into Solved's reach. Solved spun low, his cutlass slicing a neat line across the attacker's throat, rising fluidly as if the kill were part of the same motion.
Two more rushed them from opposite sides. Andrew caught the higher strike, sparks flying, while Solved weaved under the second blade.
His cutlass snapped upward, wrenching the weapon clean from the sailor's hands.
Andrew was already turning, his sword sweeping in a wide, perfect arc that felled both men at once.
Back-to-back, they turned as one, their blades flashing in a brutal dance.
Solved drove his cutlass between ribs, yanking it free just as Andrew's sword came down in a flawless overhead slash.
They moved like gears in the same machine, each strike flowing into the next, no hesitation, no wasted motion.
Solved's mind slipped for a heartbeat. His breath slowed, chest tightening.
He had sworn—back home, that he would never take a life.
Yet here he was, blades flashing in his hands, blood already staining his skin.
The rules he once lived by didn't survive this world.
The last sailor roared and charged. Solved feinted a slash, throwing him off balance.
Andrew stepped in smoothly, his blade slicing a clean line across the man's chest.
He collapsed, twitching, before he ever realized he was dead.
Solved flicked his cutlass aside, letting it spin across the deck with a ringing clatter.
Silence.
They stood amid the carnage, blades dripping, chests rising and falling in steady rhythm.
Andrew smirked faintly, the storm still alive in his eyes.
Solved exhaled, his own hands steady though his mind recoiled from what he'd done.
Predators. That's what they looked like — and for the first time, they looked like predators together.
[Combat + 10. ]
They walked toward the captain's dock, where Solved's suspect hid.
The door creaked open slowly, its hinges groaning before giving way completely. Inside, the man shot to his feet, eyes widening at the silhouette framed in the doorway—Solved, with Andrew at his back.
"I–Impossible… who're you?" the man stammered.
Solved drew a steady breath, stepping forward one measured pace at a time.
"The solution to every problem."
"Destroy him!" the man barked, motioning to the sailors still loyal to him.
But none moved. Instead, they exchanged uneasy glances, then shoved their captain forward.
"Cowards! I'm your boss—you're supposed to protect me!" the fat man sputtered, panic seeping into his voice.
"They're not cowards," Solved said, his tone like a blade.
The man felt it—the weight of Solved's gaze burning into his back. He trembled, turning slowly.
"P–Please… I'll give you money—anything—"
"Where is Mr. Henrik's daughter?" Solved's cut him off, his voice cold, threatening, stripped of mercy.
Andrew circled him, pacing like a predator sizing up prey, his eyes sharp, daring the man to lie.
The man shook his head frantically. "I can't tell you, please—I can't!"
Solved's lips curved into a faint smile. He nodded once, then drove his fist straight into the man's face.
Bone cracked. The man reeled, spitting out a tooth, blood streaking his chin.
"P–Please…" he whimpered.
Solved drew in a steadying breath, shaking out his knuckles. His chest rose and fell, his voice calm but taut.
"I swore to stay composed. To never cross this line." His gaze hardened. "But this world keeps pushing me."
He leaned closer, his eyes boring into the man's.
"So let's play different."
Andrew circled behind, deliberately dragging his blade across the wooden railing with a screeching scrape, like a predator sharpening its claws. The sound made the man flinch, his knees buckling.
Solved straightened, tone almost conversational now, like a teacher to a slow student.
"You're not scared of dying. You're scared of how you'll die. That's what your eyes are telling me."
He crouched low, their faces inches apart.
"first of all, I don't deal with nameless rats. What's your name?"
The man hesitates, then mutters: "...Rulf."
"Rulf" solved nodded slightly, "So here's the game Rulf. Every lie you give me… I take something from you. A tooth. A finger. An eye. Until you finally realize the truth was cheaper."
The man whimpered, trembling as Andrew's shadow loomed over him.
"Now," Solved whispered, his smile gone, replaced by iron. "Where is Henrik's daughter?"
"I swear… I can't tell you," Rulf shivered, voice catching on every word.
Solved's fist hovered mid-air, knuckles tight, ready to crash into his face again—
"Wait!" Rulf yelped, jerking up his sleeve. Inked symbols burned faintly along his arm, like scars carved by fire. "A binding vow. It's magic… you're a mage, you can see it. If I speak, I die. Please—I don't want to die."
Solved's eyes narrowed. He saw nothing, only trembling flesh and panic—
Then the system chimed:
[Truth Sight: ACTIVE]
Target: Rulf
Observation: Terror. True.
Suggested Action: Leverage fear / Apply psychological pressure
The realization hit. Rulf wasn't holding back out of choice—he was shackled.
He wheezed, clutching his branded arm. "I can't tell you! The vow will kill me if I speak!"
Solved crouched down, steady, voice calm. "Good. Then don't speak."
Rulf blinked, confused.
Solved's gaze swept the cabin, every detail a clue. He pointed at the rotted boards beneath their feet.
"Too damp. Too sharp. She wouldn't last here. Not for the whole trip."
Rulf's lip twitched.
[Truth Sight: Agreement. True.]
Solved nodded once, quiet satisfaction in his eyes. "She can't be on this ship."
He rose, circling him like a hawk. "A girl like her, hidden in plain sight? No. Too risky. Sailors get drunk, they talk. Someone would notice."
He swallowed hard, gaze falling to the floor.
[Truth Sight: Fear. True.]
"Which means," Solved continued, his tone turning colder, "you exchanged her before I reached Campoff."
His shoulders shook, sweat streaming down his temple.
[Truth Sight: Terror. True.]
Andrew's hand tightened on his sword hilt. He didn't speak, but the look he gave Solved was half awe, half unease.
Solved didn't look away from the trembling man. His smile was thin, dangerous.
"A vow can bind words, Andrew. But it can't bind truth. And truth is always written… here." He tapped his temple, then his chest.
Rulf broke, choking out a sob. "Please… I can't—"
Solved leaned in, voice a whisper. "You already did."
[Institution +5.]
[Deduction +5.]
Solved grabbed the fat man by the collar and yanked him off the captain's deck. Andrew followed, sliding his blade back into its sheath with a metallic click.
At the helm, Solved stopped. His gaze fixed coldly on the helmsman.
"Turn this ship around," he ordered, voice like steel. "Now."
Rulf squirmed in his grip, his voice breaking. "W–wait… what are you going to do with me?"
Solved's eyes narrowed. He leaned close, his tone colder than the sea air.
"Since you can't talk… you're going to show."