The Terror of the Pirates

The air was thick with smoke, pungent and unmistakable.

The pirates in the tavern, long accustomed to the haze of smoke and the clashing of swords, barely noticed the fog that filled the room.

Through the smoky veil, a line of eyes fixed on the figure of Alex (formerly Mod).

Astonishment, surprise, and consternation were etched on their faces.

The incident had unfolded in a flash. By the time anyone could react, the two pirates who had stormed in seeking revenge were already dead—each with a bullet perfectly placed between their eyebrows.

The two intruders had barged in with clear intent, guns raised and fingers on the triggers, ready to fire.

But the masked undertaker was faster.

In one swift motion, he drew his flintlock pistols and fired two shots, each bullet finding its mark with deadly precision.

It was fast, ruthless, and accurate.

The pirates sitting near the entrance glanced at the two lifeless bodies, then exchanged uneasy looks. It didn't take long for them to piece together the intruders' plan.

The two had likely trailed Lafayette, intending to use the crowded tavern as both a shield and a means of escape.

What they hadn't anticipated was the masked man sitting at Lafayette's table—a man who moved faster than their bullets.

"Just when I was about to leave..."

Alex sighed inwardly, enduring the weight of the gazes fixed on him. Under the table, his hand gripped the still-warm flintlock pistol.

He didn't rush to leave. Instead, he took the opportunity to reload his weapon.

Blind loading was inefficient, but his movements were calm and deliberate.

By now, Alex had pieced together the situation. The two pirates had come for Lafayette. How else could they have tracked him so quickly after he entered the tavern?

Lafayette's misfortune was sitting at the same table as Alex, drawing him into the line of fire.

But Alex wasn't one to sit idly by. The moment he sensed the killing intent, he acted.

It didn't matter who the pirates were after. The moment they pointed their guns in his direction, they signed their own death warrants.

Without hesitation, Alex drew his pistols and ended the threat.

On the surface, it seemed like he had done Lafayette a favor by eliminating two enemies. But in truth, Alex had acted solely to protect himself.

"Good shot."

Saber—the man with the steel pipe—loosened his grip on his weapon and regarded Alex with interest.

Saber was a member of the Revolutionary Army, trained in a variety of combat skills, including marksmanship. Though he rarely used guns himself, he recognized skill when he saw it.

Alex's precision and speed suggested systematic training, further fueling Saber's suspicion that the masked man might be affiliated with the Navy.

Ignoring Saber's praise, Alex kept his head down, focused on reloading his pistols.

Saber chuckled, unbothered by the silence. His values were free from the constraints of rigid ideologies. He judged people by their actions, not their allegiances.

Lafayette, however, studied Alex more intently.

He knew the two pirates had come for him. Their murderous intent had been as obvious as a flashing red light.

What surprised him was the decisiveness of the man sitting beside him. Alex had no reason to intervene, yet he acted without hesitation.

Lafayette appreciated that.

His sharp eyes scanned every visible detail of Alex—his eyes, lips, ears, and neck—committing them to memory before he finally looked away and signaled for a waiter.

By now, the tavern staff had snapped into action, moving the bodies outside and cleaning up the blood before it could spread. Someone was sent to fetch the undertaker.

As for the masked man who had swiftly ended the threat, no one dared to approach him.

The tension in the room gradually eased, and the pirates returned to their drinks, their attention shifting away from Alex.

Finally, Alex finished reloading his pistols. He stood, ready to leave the scene and find a quiet spot to observe his next targets.

"Leaving already?" Saber asked, undeterred by Alex's silence.

Alex glanced at Saber's wide-lensed visor but said nothing. He turned and walked toward the door.

Lafayette watched him go, his sharp eyes scanning Alex's retreating figure from head to toe.

The other pirates also cast fleeting glances at Alex as he left.

Once the door closed behind him, the tavern buzzed back to life.

Outside, Alex scanned his surroundings, searching for a shadowy spot to conceal himself. In a place like this, where buildings of varying heights crowded together, shadows were plentiful.

It didn't take long for him to find a suitable hiding place. He melted into the darkness, his eyes fixed on the tavern door.

He would wait for his prey to emerge, then follow them, biding his time for the perfect moment to strike.

There was no need to ask for names. The bounty posters they carried as trophies would tell him everything he needed to know.

Time passed slowly. The auction was set to begin in less than ten minutes, but Alex's focus remained on the tavern door.

Suddenly, his attention was drawn to two familiar figures passing by.

"Kiddo and his crew," Alex muttered, his hand instinctively brushing against the weapon strapped to his back.

"If the opportunity arises tonight, I might test it out," he thought, a cold glint in his eyes.

For now, though, his priority was the prey inside the tavern. If they slipped away, the night would have been wasted.

Alex kept his eyes on the door, his patience unwavering.

An hour later, the tavern door creaked open, and three drunken men stumbled out, arms slung over each other's shoulders.

Alex's eyes narrowed.

"Finally," he whispered, stepping out of the shadows.

As he followed the trio, the auction inside the grand hall was in full swing.