Chapter 420: Claiming the Bounty
Seeing the doubt in Zhou Ning's eyes, red-haired Robinson lifted the white sack in his hand and smiled. "To claim a bounty, all you need to bring is the head. That's the unspoken rule of the sea."
A foul stench instantly reached Zhou Ning's nose. Though unpleasant, he didn't make a fuss—his persona couldn't break. He simply withdrew his gaze and nodded.
"Let's go."
Just as they were about to disembark, the elusive Ignatius Woods appeared from the cabin passage alongside Richie Burke. The two gave Zhou Ning a polite nod. Burke said casually, "We're going to check out the underground market—need to restock on spell components anyway."
"I'll come find you later," Zhou Ning replied with a smile.
After parting ways at the dock, Zhou Ning followed Robinson toward the Sea God Church cathedral on the west side of Teldron Island.
Along the way, they ran into a group of warrior players who recognized him immediately and excitedly surrounded him.
This area, like Temple Port, was a mid-level zone—no new players to prey on. But one of the warriors caught Zhou Ning's attention: Yanran Weile. He was an old acquaintance—the top player from the Tang Poetry and Song Verse Club, and a two-time participant in Apocalypse Forecast. Zhou Ning remembered him well. In his previous life, Yanran Weile had placed fifth in four consecutive pro leagues—never once breaking into the top four. The community nicknamed him "Fifth Hero Yan."
At the moment, Yanran Weile was thrilled. He had come all the way from Nathaniel to complete his class advancement quest. For warriors of the Sepharic Kingdom, the quest required slaying three boss-level sea monsters—one of which lurked near Teldron Island.
He hadn't expected such luck—to actually encounter the main character of the game here.
Thinking of the forum posts that made him green with envy—those incredible skills, legendary gear, and the rumored Starry Sky Guild invitation letter—his heart burned with excitement.
He opened Wayne Sturwell's personal shop interface and immediately bought out everything from healing spells and Evasion Slash to Tempest Kick, Iron Body, Paper Art, and Finger Gun—all the general skills. As for the Devil Fruit he'd been eyeing… he still didn't have enough money. He'd have to find someone to pool funds with. The only disappointment was that he didn't see the Starry Sky Guild invite.
Perhaps noticing his thoughts, Zhou Ning smiled and said, "I'll be staying in Nathaniel for a while. If you need anything, come find me there."
"Nathaniel?"
Yanran Weile's heart leapt with joy. He might be the first player in the entire game to know the protagonist's next destination. Finally, it was time for the Sepharic Kingdom players to shine.
As he watched the group of players leave, grinning from ear to ear, Zhou Ning chuckled softly and continued forward.
As the southeastern stronghold of the Sepharic Kingdom, Teldron Island was actually a transliteration—the word meant "jungle" in the Falric tongue. According to Apocalypse lore, the island had been seized by Angus Motley's ancestors from the native jungle werewolves who once lived here.
As a result, the Motley Archipelago still retained many werewolf customs—such as polygamy and a taste for raw meat. Fish, horse, beef, chicken—none were exceptions. Even carrion-eating crows were sliced raw and served at the table.
All along the road, Zhou Ning saw many native werewolves—taller and more broad-shouldered than ordinary humans—wandering about in tattered clothing. Some were even bound by iron chains, being led by others like livestock.
According to the Sepharic Kingdom's harsh legal and class hierarchy, werewolves were considered third-class citizens, ranked below both the Northerners and the Walrusfolk.
"Don't pity the werewolves," Robinson said in a low voice, noticing Zhou Ning's gaze. "They're the race most prone to mutation and loss of control. A single full moon can drive them mad—make them attack anyone and everyone."
Zhou Ning didn't respond, only nodding faintly as he looked up at the sky. Coincidentally, though it was only six o'clock, a full moon already hung overhead.
He'd heard similar stories in his past life. The southern jungles of the Sepharic Kingdom were home to countless werewolves, locked in a war that had dragged on for decades. Ever since the split of the Falric Kingdom and the founding of the Sepharic state, the conflict had lasted nearly seventy years.
It was said that, much like the Spiderlings of the Dark Spider Mother, Matalita, the werewolves also carried the blood of an Ancient God—and a potent one at that. Fortunately, their god still slumbered deep within the dark.
Along the way, Zhou Ning also noticed sailors of northern descent—most likely pirates. When they caught sight of the shackled Hurricane Spike and Sea Serpent Steinbeck, their faces changed drastically, and they hurried to clear the path.
"Don't doubt it," Robinson said with a dry laugh. "Most of those guys are bona fide pirates. Plenty of northern pirate captains maintain secret ties with the governor's office. Sometimes the navy and pirates are two sides of the same coin—fighting and helping each other in turn. I used to be one of them."
"Teldron Island's prosperity owes much to them," he continued. "Pirates come here to fence their loot, and adventurers often moonlight as pirates. The goods they bring in are usually high-quality and cheap, which attracts merchants—and the unprotected ones end up plundered in nearby waters. That's when the Church and the navy step in, offering 'protection.'"
Robinson rambled on, explaining Teldron Island's situation in detail. Zhou Ning listened thoughtfully before suddenly asking:
"Do you know of any particularly notorious gangs or pirate groups on Teldron Island?"
What the hell is he planning now? Robinson froze, mind racing to come up with a response.
"I do," said a low voice.
It was Hurricane Spike, who had been silent until now. His lips twisted into a sinister grin. "If I tell you, will you let me go?"
"What do you think?" Zhou Ning asked mildly, the corners of his mouth lifting.
"Tch." Spike sneered, but still spoke. "121 Sea Law Street, the Innerwalker Tavern. That's one of Thunder General's contact points. His first mate, the 'Werewolf' Mason, should be there right now. His bounty's 7,000 Vecktas."
As a proper pirate, Spike had no qualms about dragging his peers down with him—especially when it came to an enemy. The Wind General's fleet and the Thunder General's had been blood enemies for years.
This man—Wayne Sturwell—was strong. If he could kill Spike's captain in under five minutes, he could definitely kill the Werewolf Mason. Maybe even defeat the Thunder General himself.
"121 Sea Law Street…"
With his Observation Haki at the Master level, Zhou Ning could roughly sense whether someone was lying. Spike's words rang true.
Compared to the Wind General, the Thunder General's reputation was even worse—a pirate infamous for killing and looting alike. If all went smoothly, this Werewolf Mason would serve as the first soul in Zhou Ning's hunt for the damned—his first step toward becoming a demigod.
Before long, they reached the Sea God Church cathedral. Ahead stood a massive structure built from azure tide stone, the sound of crashing waves echoing faintly as they approached—a signature trait of nearly every Sea God sanctuary.
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