Arcane: Begging for Help in a Parallel Universe!

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A clear, transparent mirror reflected the figure of a graceful young woman.

Her silver-gray hair was tied into a bun at the back of her head, resembling a steamed bun. Her fair, makeup-free face was as pure as snow, and the veins around her eyes, altered by modifications, glowed a serene blue.

Her calm eyes resembled a pristine night sky, untouched by impurities. Her delicate nose was complemented by tightly pursed lips.

She was beautiful and serene—if one ignored the deep resentment etched across her face.

"My dear—uncle, what is it this time?" Dakora now felt a headache every time she saw Link. On the surface, he was her spy, but in reality, she had almost become his secretary.

She had to handle his tasks when he needed her and take care of his daily needs when he didn't.

Thankfully, he was so engrossed in his research that he hadn't asked her to attend to him at night. Otherwise, she would have been working as a secretary both day and night.

"Gangplank is dead. The sailors on the Leviathan—" Link paused, glancing out the window at the dock. In the pouring rain, Pride was stacking crystal-encased heads into a small mountain.

"Have all been killed by me. Now, the Pirate King of Bilgewater is gone, and his ship has a new master."

Dakora's small mouth opened slightly, at a loss for words.

"Hello? Hello—" Link waved his hand in front of the communicator. "Is it lagging?"

"Wait a moment, I'll go get Grandaunt!" Dakora hurriedly left her study with the communicator in hand, leaving Link with a view of her bouncing chest, a result of her excitement and disbelief.

Soon, Camille took the communicator, her ever-calm expression appearing on the crystal mirror.

"My dear, I am so proud of you."

As soon as Camille appeared, she flashed a smile that made Dakora gnaw on her handkerchief in envy. Her eyes were filled with satisfaction and pride, and she didn't hold back her praise.

Dakora, standing beside Camille, was seething with jealousy. She now felt like she was the adopted one—

"It's nothing. You could have done the same," Link said with a faint smile, a sight that left Miss Fortune, who had just entered the captain's cabin, momentarily stunned.

The boy looked quite handsome when he wasn't scowling.

"Perhaps," Camille didn't dwell on the topic and instead asked Link, "What are your plans moving forward?"

"Gangplank's death will throw the city into chaos. Many will take advantage of this period to disrupt the existing order and social hierarchy."

As Link spoke, he recalled the events of Burning Tides. After Gangplank's Leviathan was destroyed, the leaderless Bilgewater descended into a violent and bloody hell.

Former leaders and bosses were overthrown by their subordinates, and slaughter and flames erupted throughout the city. The entire city went mad!

"This is an opportunity," Camille placed the communicator on the table, leaning back slightly and interlacing her fingers over her lap.

"It is indeed an opportunity, but it's not particularly useful to me," Link looked out at the storm. "A bunch of rabble, even if united, would only serve as fodder for the Harrowing."

The Black Mist of the Harrowing could transform corpses and other dead matter into undead, reanimating them under the curse of the Ruination.

This was why he had Pride burn all the bodies—to prevent the Black Mist from gaining a foothold.

Additionally, most of Bilgewater's inhabitants made their living by slaughtering sea monsters at the Slaughter Docks. The blood, oil, and unusable parts of the sea monsters were dumped into the sea.

The bones were treated the same way.

When the Black Mist arrived, the bones would be transformed into undead. They would join the undead from the Shadow Isles in their assault.

Therefore, Link's current priority was preparing for the Harrowing, not wasting time trying to unite the city.

After surviving the Harrowing, Link could easily conquer Bilgewater by showcasing his power and prowess.

"It seems you know what you're doing."

"I do."

"Good," Camille nodded slightly, approving of Link's plan.

"By the way, the Leviathan is quite a ship. How about I bring it back as a souvenir?" Link tapped the large table in front of him, and Camille's face lit up with a doting smile.

"I'll prepare a port for her and invite people to throw you a welcoming party."

"Then, wait for me to return!"

"Of course," Camille added, "If you feel unsure, just retreat. You've already done exceptionally well, my dear."

"I won't fail."

Beneath Link's calm demeanor was an indescribable confidence.

Miss Fortune, standing at the door, was momentarily entranced. Could a man really be this captivating?

"Then, I'll await your return."

"Mm."

After Link closed the communicator, his image disappeared from the crystal mirror.

Dakora stood nearby, feeling uneasy and unsure of what to say.

When there was a peer more outstanding than you, everything you said or did in front of your elders felt wrong. Even breathing felt like a sin.

Camille had no interest in Dakora's inner turmoil. She took out the prayer beads Link had given her and gently rubbed them.

The room's atmosphere grew so tense that Dakora broke out in a cold sweat. Camille, holding the beads, spoke, "Dakora, how many agents can we mobilize right now?"

"Aside from those guarding the estate, we have 156 agents available."

"That's enough," Camille put away the beads and ordered Dakora, "Prepare the airship for me. I will lead a team to Bilgewater to support Link."

"Grandaunt—" Dakora opened her mouth, but Camille stood up and approached her, gently adjusting Dakora's clothes.

"After I leave, take good care of the family. Don't disappoint me."

As Camille's hand rested on Dakora's cheek, Dakora lowered her head and said, "Yes."

...

"Alright, come here," Link put the communicator away and beckoned to Miss Fortune.

"I'm not Tahm Kench, who eats people without spitting out their bones. Why are you so afraid of me?"

Miss Fortune's lips twitched uncontrollably. In her mind, Link was far more terrifying than Tahm Kench.

After all, Tahm Kench was just a legend.

Sensing Miss Fortune's thoughts, Link teased, "Tahm Kench isn't just a legend, Sarah."

Miss Fortune shivered but said nothing as she approached Link.

Link examined Miss Fortune, his gaze moving from her forehead down to her narrow shoulders, delicate collarbones, ample chest, soft and slender waist, and well-rounded legs.

Feeling Link's gaze, Miss Fortune couldn't help but straighten her posture.

But remembering her boss's terrifying nature, she lowered her head, searching for her invisible toes, her heart filled with anxiety.

"Tell me your height, weight, and measurements—"

Link took out a notebook and began sketching the design of an exoskeleton. Miss Fortune looked up, her eyes fixed on Link.

Weren't you supposed to be immune to beauty? In the end, you're just after my body!

Link raised his eyelids, the black centers of his blue eyes reflecting Miss Fortune's figure.

"If you keep thinking such vulgar thoughts, you can build your own plank and jump off the Leviathan."

"Then, you—" Miss Fortune hesitated, and Link snorted, "It's an employee benefit. Don't overthink it."

"Yes—" Miss Fortune nodded meekly, and Link sighed. Women, what exactly goes on in their minds?

No wonder so many people in Bilgewater treated their ships as wives. Dealing with a ship that braved storms with you was far more appealing than handling a woman with complicated thoughts.

With this in mind, Link's pencil paused, and he looked up at the ceiling.

Did stealing the Leviathan from Gangplank count as cuckolding him?

Note: So far this story is published up to chapter 140 on my patreon go take a look and remember if you reach 100 stones of power I will publish the next chapter.