Chapter 407

Chapter 30 Mr. J

Creak… creak…

The black leather boots stepped on the old wooden planks of the cabin, producing an earsplitting sound.

The space in the cabin was not large, yet several figures stood indistinctly in the dim light. The hanging lanterns swayed with the ship’s movement, casting flickering shadows that hid several faces in dark corners.

Creak… creak…

A man dressed in a red suit paced back and forth in the center of the cabin, biting his nails and muttering to himself. His words were inaudible, and his behavior was bizarre. Not far ahead of him, three men covered in blood had their limbs bound and were kneeling in a row, heads bowed, trembling, gritting their teeth as if enduring pain, too afraid to even make a sound. Blood dripped from someone’s mouth.

Plip… plip.

The drops of blood hitting the wooden floor sounded unnaturally clear.

After a moment, the man suddenly stopped and raised his hand, pushing back his shoulder-length red hair, then turned to face those kneeling before him. He held up a finger, revealing a sickly smile on his pale face.

“Beep—time’s up,” he said.

As soon as he spoke, the three immediately trembled as if electrocuted. The young man in the middle looked up in panic: “Mr. J—”

“Hush! Hush…”

The man in the red suit slowly pressed his raised index finger to his lips, his mouth twitching slightly, tilting his head to one side to signal silence. He took two steps forward, crouching in front of the person who had spoken, and extended his other hand, touching the top of the man’s head and the back of his neck.

He smiled happily: “Don’t say unnecessary things; I hate wasting time… But you see, I’m actually quite lenient. I like giving people chances. Now, I’ve given you a chance… So, have you thought about it? Who will do this… It’s up to you to decide. You need to learn to give yourselves a chance. I only need one person.”

The man in the suit wasn’t particularly muscular, even somewhat thin. Yet, when he touched the much larger man, it was as if he was caressing a child, his eyes even showing a hint of tenderness, despite the blood all over the other man’s head.

“Mr. J, J—”

The large man whose head was being touched was now filled with fear, his pupils quivering, unable to meet the gaze of the man he called Mr. J, as if the figure in front of him was not human but a terrifying monster.

“I told you, don’t say unnecessary things.”

Mr. J rubbed his head roughly for a few moments, then stood up, shaking off the blood on his hands, and walked to one side with a slight excitement.

“This is how it is. You came to me voluntarily, and I accepted you, gave you food, gave you knives and swords, treating you like humans. But unfortunately, you deceived me, didn’t treat me like a human… Ah-ha! You secretly sent messages to the church behind my back. Do you know, I hate it most when people deceive me… You are bad people, I was going to kill you all, but I am willing to reason. I’m giving you a chance to live… ”

While talking incessantly, Mr. J nodded towards several people standing beside him. Then someone approached and cut the ropes binding the three men, handing the knife to the large man in the middle.

The man froze, hesitating to take it.

The wind and waves outside seemed fierce, mingled with distant shouts, and the wooden boards creaked everywhere. The ship rocked violently, and Mr. J staggered, steadying himself by grabbing a nearby beam. His mouth twitched nervously—he seemed to be smiling again, but the malicious and crazed look in his eyes instantly vanished in the darkness.

“You deceived me, but I’m a tolerant person. I understand your difficulties… You are all knights of the church, right? Lying is a disgrace to you, it goes against your chivalric spirit, and you don’t want to do this, but you had no choice… I understand you, really. But you must also understand me. I can let someone live, just one person… Regardless, you deceived me, but I gave you food. Now, you… you, and you.”

His finger swept over their heads, pointing at each of the three positions. Mr. J’s smile suddenly widened, his lips stretching to both sides, making his entire facial expression grotesquely distorted and frightening. His nearly pale face appeared sinister and strange under the dim candlelight.

“Only one of you will have the chance to repay me. Of course, you should repay me. I’m giving you this chance now… Oh, that person, pick up the knife, the knife… Yes, pick it up… Where are the other two knives? Oh, give them longer ones, the kind that can chop off heads… So, where was I?”

He scratched his hair with his little finger, pondering for a moment. Someone handed the knives to the three men, then pulled them up roughly from the ground. The violent action seemed to tear open wounds, causing the men to cry out in pain, but they dared not resist. Trembling, they stood in place in the cabin, tightly gripping the knives, blood and sweat dripping down their faces. The people who had handed them the knives had already moved far away, leaving a small empty space around them.

“Yes, the chance!”

On the other side, Mr. J clapped his hands abruptly, continuing his previous statement: “Now I’m giving you this chance. Who among you can survive and go back will be decided by yourselves. I’ll find a nearby shore and throw him down… ‘Thud!’ It might hurt a bit, but it won’t kill him.”

He shrugged.

“Then, go find that group of bastard knights at Mosley Coast, tell them the truth is that you run after taking something, we’re about to retreat, and they should come to the sea to block us…

“Has it turned white? Such lies, you’re quite adept at it. The knights wouldn’t notice such subtleties…”

“Jester—!!!”

Suddenly, from among the three figures, the smallest one shouted and stood up with a knife, charging towards Mr. J in a crouched position. The shout was somewhat shrill, revealing that it was actually a woman.

The woman’s speed was incredible; before anyone could react, she stabbed her knife into Mr. J’s chest—he did not move to dodge.

Pfft!

Pfft!

“Ughahaha—”

The blood-stained blade pierced through his suit from back to front, yet no blood had flowed out. Inside the cabin, Mr. J’s mad laughter echoed.

He spread his arms wide, grabbing the woman tightly despite her struggles, pulling her into his embrace.

“You’re a lady… I apologize, I truly do. It’s terribly impolite to treat a lady this way, hahaha…”

Mr. J buried his face in the woman’s neck, inhaling deeply with a blissful expression.

“Let me see your face…”

“Let go of me!”

“Don’t move…”

“Damn it… Jester—!”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

The woman’s struggle was futile against Mr. J, like a chicken with its neck held. He corrected her head, exposing her face, pushing aside her dirty hair to reveal a face stained with blood but still quite attractive.

“Not bad, you’re not bad! Ahahaha—”

“In my prayers… May the gods punish the wicked with the severest of penalties…”

She glared into his deep, frenzied eyes, gritting her teeth in hatred.

Facing Mr. J’s crazed smile, she knew she was doomed. She struggled harder, trying to cause more harm to this madman before she died. Blood trickled from the jester’s mouth, but then his face drew closer.

Mr. J kissed the woman.

“Mmm, mmm!”

Her eyes widened as she struggled desperately, but two seconds later, her hands slowly fell.

Mr. J’s eyes gleamed crimson.

He greedily sucked, the candlelight flickering, dark red liquid spilling from the woman’s mouth, flowing into Mr. J’s mouth like a gushing spring. His eyes blazed brighter, and the woman in his arms stopped moving. Her face quickly withered, followed by her body—Mr. J released his arms.

Thud.

The woman’s skeletal body collapsed on the wooden floor like a pile of mud.

Mr. J pulled out the knife from his chest, blood splattering on the floor, smoking “sizzle sizzle.” Red light rapidly circulated around his chest, and countless flesh buds wriggled, healing the wound instantly.

Mr. J looked down, then sighed.

“This suit… I really liked it…”

Though he said so, his expression showed indifference. He kicked the corpse aside and licked his lips, then looked at the remaining two—who were already fighting each other.

Fear had robbed them of their honor and reason, turning them against their former comrade.

“Ahh—”

Clang!

Blades clashed, sparks flying.

Mr. J watched for a moment, then lost interest.

He took out a handkerchief from his collar, wiped his mouth and hands, and tossed the handkerchief onto the corpse. He gave some instructions to others, then turned and pushed open the cabin door.

Outside, a raging sea of flames roared.

On the vast sea, numerous ships bearing golden cross flags were consumed by crimson flames, breaking apart and sinking far away. Flames licked the sky, nearly illuminating the entire night.

Scorching winds lashed against the ship’s railings. Mr. J walked slowly onto the deck, suddenly lowering his head and vomiting.

“Damn it, I hate being on a ship…”

He wiped his mouth with his hand, then walked a few steps further. Someone came to report: “The Church’s ships intercepting Deacon Peel have all been burned.”

Mr. J nodded and asked, “What about Old Peel?”

“They burned his ship, and he came looking for us. He’ll be here soon.”

“Oh? So the Church hasn’t caught Old Peel yet? Haha! A bunch of useless fools… Could there be someone from our side among them?”

He muttered to himself, then laughed: “Where’s the Tear of the Goddess? Did you see it?”

“It’s in Old Peel’s hands.”

“Oh~”

Mr. J nodded nervously, patting the person’s right shoulder. His facial muscles slowly moved, forming a rigid smile that was terrifyingly stiff: “Old Peel is a hero of the Holy Church. Eluna should award him a medal. I’m serious… I admire him, yes. But heroes often meet their end for great causes. It’s because they died that they become heroes, don’t you think?”

The person lowered his head, silent.

Buzz—

Suddenly, in the distance, the sky burst with golden light. Divine thunderbolts, awe-inspiring, rushed over with a rumbling sound, grazing the mast. Mr. J was startled, his shoulders tensing, eyes narrowing instinctively. He followed the sound to look over: “Who is that? How can they create such a spectacle…”

“Mr. J, there’s an Archbishop in the Church’s fleet.”

“An Archbishop? What kind of Archbishop? There isn’t any Archbishop of this caliber…”

Mr. J stood lightly on the deck, his body relaxed, as if weightless. He bit his finger, muttering to himself, then waved his arm, laughing: “Who cares who it is, just kill them.”

Sharp sea winds carried the scorching waves, fluttering the flags.

Moments later, someone handed Mr. J a cane, which he accepted and used to walk to the bow of the ship. Gazing at the divine light that illuminated the night like day, a surge of intense flames rose from his feet, piercing the fiery night sky.

That night sky was as beautiful as the royal city.