I was expecting cheers. Maybe a little awe. You know, the kind of hero's welcome where people shower you with gratitude, throw you on their shoulders, and promise to name a holiday after you.
Instead, I got guns.
Not metaphorically. Literal, actual guns—muskets, rifles, and one particularly nasty-looking crossbow pointed directly at my face. The moment I stepped into the village square, a dozen men tensed like coiled springs, their fingers hovering over their triggers. Among them, standing front and center like the world's grumpiest welcoming committee, was Colt.
The old soldier had the look of a man who'd rather be fighting a war than dealing with my nonsense. Beside him, Elder Thomas leaned heavily on his cane, his expression unreadable, like he was waiting to see if I was about to sprout demon horns or confess to being the pirate king in disguise.
"Yo!" I said, shaking the blood-stained from the former captain's head off my boots. "Something wrong?"
Colt's jaw tightened like he was trying to crack a walnut with his teeth. "You slaughtered an entire pirate crew." His voice was cold. Flat. The kind of voice that said, I already know the answer, I just wanna see how creatively you're gonna lie to me.
I sighed. "Not the entire crew. Some ran off to the second village."
The tension ratcheted up so hard I half-expected the air to crack like ice. Nobody moved. All eyes on me—accusing, wary, a little terrified. Not of the pirates. Of me.
But hey, I wasn't planning to hurt them. Right now, all I wanted was a boat, a bunch of bounty-worthy pirate heads, and a trip to the nearest marine base to cash in. After that? We'd see where the money took me.
I stepped forward. Guns followed my every move. But their hands shook. They were afraid to pull the trigger.
"Not the best attitude to make a deals," I said, stopping about twelve meters out. "I'm gonna check out the second village, and when I come back, we'll talk. Like civilized people." I took another steps. Now I was within arm's reach of one particularly nervous-looking guy pointing a rifle at my chest.
Slowly, I lifted two fingers and nudged the barrel aside. "No guns at the table," I said. "We agree on that, right?"
Then I lifted the severed head I'd been carrying—because yeah, I'd been holding one this whole time—and placed it against another guy's chest. "Find somewhere cool to store this. But not near a food"
Then I walked through the crowd, picked up speed, and sprinted toward the second village.
Didn't take long to get there. A couple of pirate corpses lay around—good sign. Meant the villagers had handled it. But three guys were still hiding in the woods.
Not for long.
After dealing with them, I found Joe holed up in his house with his wife and kid. He was fine. Grumpy, but fine. I told him everything was handled, but he refused to come back. A strange move, considering that his daughter returned from the front in mourning.
But hey, not my family, not my problem. I headed back.
By then, the crowd had thinned out a bit. More importantly, the guns weren't pointed at me anymore.
Progress.
But, Colt didn't look happy about it. He also lowered his weapon. "We're gonna talk."
I shrugged. "Lead the way."
The village square was still tense as we moved, wary eyes following my every step. I could hear hushed whispers—some calling me a monster, others wondering if I'd turn on them next.
Elder Thomas's house was the kind of place that smelled like old wood, burning candles, and memories. A cluttered mess of scrolls, maps, and trinkets littered the shelves, giving the whole place the air of someone who'd lived through a few too many stories. He motioned toward the low table in the center of the room, then wordlessly pulled out a bottle of something dark and strong.
"Drink?" he asked, pouring himself a glass.
"No thanks." I waved him off and took a seat. I remembered exactly what was happening to me because of it. Alcohol is my kinda kryptonite. "Tea's better."
Colt scoffed like I'd just suggested drinking seawater.
Elder Thomas just gave a small chuckle and nodded. "Fair enough." He set the bottle aside and leaned forward, his weathered hands clasped together. "So, let's get to it. Who are you?"
I exhaled slowly, resting my arms on the table. "Allen Ainsworth. Not a pirate. Bounty hunter." I let that sink in for a moment before continuing. "I lied about my past because, well, let's be honest—not everyone treats my kind well. And when you are a half-dead, you don't exactly start handing out your resume."
Colt grunted, unimpressed. "Convenient story."
"True story," I corrected. "And if you think about it, it makes sense. If I was a pirate, would I have bothered saving this place?"
He didn't answer. Which meant I had a point.
The elder hummed, considering me. Then, he reached into a wooden chest beside him and pulled out a heavy pouch, dropping it onto the table with a metallic clink. "Payment for protecting the village."
I didn't even glance at it. "Don't need it. The bounties on those guys will cover everything."
That made Colt's brow furrow. "So what is in your mind?"
I leaned back. "To get money from the loot, and for that, I need your help." My gaze flicked between the two of them. "I need to get off this island. A big city or a marine base—whichever gets me paid faster. I'll take someone who knows their way around the seas."
Elder Thomas studied me, his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded. "We can arrange that."
Good. One problem solved.
I took a couple of sips of the tea. And oh, damn—it was hot. Like boiled in the depths of hell hot. My tongue was now officially a casualty of war. I bit my cheek to keep my eyes from watering because I'll be damned if I let these people see me cry over tea.
I set the mug back on the table like nothing had happened. Totally fine. Not in pain. Nope.
"Also, now you have their ship and all their supplies. Including weapons. I figure an update on that won't be out of place." I smirked and nodded toward Colt's shotgun, which was propped against his leg like a very judgmental pet.
Elder Thomas nodded sagely, because of course he did. "Yes, that will be very useful to us."
"Exactly," I said, leaning back. "So in return, I'll pick the people to sail with me."
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Colt tensing up. He didn't like that. At all. But he also couldn't argue, because logically, it made sense. And because I was still standing here, very much alive, while an entire crew of pirates wasn't.
I stood up and grabbed my cup of tea—because, hey, I was suffering because of this drink. I raised my hand toward the elder. "I'm sure we understand each other. And we have an agreement."
Elder Thomas beamed, like I'd just promised him eternal prosperity, and shook my hand. "Yes, we are very grateful and will repay you in any way we can."
"Glad to head it," I said, setting down my cup and heading for the door.
The elder followed and politely held it open for me, because apparently, even ruthless pirate-slayers deserve good manners.
We exchanged goodbyes, but as I walked off, I heard him and Colt still talking. Probably about me. Probably about how much they did not trust me.
Didn't matter. I got what I wanted.