"I appreciate the warning, Boss."
Sami let out a small sigh. "But I'll still stick to my rules. In my opinion, ability can be cultivated… I'll be staying on the island for three days. If you happen to see anyone suitable, feel free to let me know."
With that, he drained the rum in his cup and signaled to his companions that it was time to leave.
But Gruff's thick palm landed on the table before him first, his tone carrying the weary patience of someone with experience.
"Kid, I'm not trying to pour cold water on your plans. But the people who truly have skill out on the sea—every one of them is proud and arrogant. With your current reputation, and those rules of yours… it won't be easy."
Gruff paused, then continued.
"Of course, if you're only looking for some steady, obedient sailors to fill out your crew, I've got plenty of suitable candidates right here in my tavern. Most of these men drifting across the sea are just trying to earn a living—looking for stability and money. Your reputation for generous pay is very attractive to them."
Sami nodded. He understood exactly what Gruff meant.
Top-tier talent wasn't something he could easily recruit yet anyway.
What he needed now was simply to fill out the crew so the ship could function properly and maintain basic combat strength.
"As long as they can work and follow the rules," he said briefly.
"Fair enough. You're the captain."
Gruff tossed his rag over his shoulder, then turned and slammed his fist against the bar counter several times.
"THUMP! THUMP!"
"Everyone shut the hell up! Got a good opportunity here!"
Once the chatter in the tavern quieted down, Gruff threw an arm around Sami's shoulders.
"See this young man? This is Captain Riberra Sami. I'm sure you've all recognized him already. The big shot with a seven-million-Beli bounty from the Marines!
His ship needs to recruit some sailors to fill out the crew! Some of you might have heard of his reputation. I won't promise anything else, but when it comes to splitting the loot—he's the best in the West Blue!"
He raised his thumb proudly.
Then Gruff's tone shifted as he raised a finger and waved it meaningfully.
"Of course, Captain Sami has his own rules. Once you join his ship, you follow his rules. He'll explain them before you decide. If you think you've got the guts to earn this money, come forward and show yourselves! Captain Sami will pick personally!"
The moment he finished speaking, the tavern buzzed with discussion.
"What do you think? Weren't you interested earlier? If you're going, take me with you."
"A captain with a seven-million bounty… you probably won't starve under him."
"Yeah, but those rules… who knows what they are?"
"Who cares? I just need money! If the pay's good enough, following a few rules isn't a problem."
Just as Gruff predicted, for many sailors struggling at the bottom—or bounty hunters who weren't doing well—a generous and capable captain was extremely attractive.
As for rules?
When real money was involved, most people were willing to negotiate—as long as the rules weren't too extreme.
Of course, quite a few people simply watched.
Bounty hunters with their own million-Beli bounties or gang enforcers already loyal to certain factions stayed seated, observing coldly.
Before long, chairs scraped across the floor.
Three or five men from a corner stood up first.
Then others hesitantly followed.
In the end, more than twenty men gathered around Sami's table, crowding the area tightly.
A large man reeking of fish shoved his face close to Sami.
"Captain! I'm strong! I can carry cannons!"
Sami didn't waste time with unnecessary talk.
Sitting calmly, he swept his gaze across the applicants.
Most of them were ordinary-looking men with rough skin weathered by sea winds—the most common type of sailor on the ocean. Their eyes held both hope and unease.
Sami mainly observed their build.
Whether their hands had the calluses of men accustomed to hauling ropes.
Whether their eyes were steady.
And whether they carried the sly, slippery air he disliked.
He asked a few basic questions about sail handling and wind direction.
Then he explained his core rules—no harassing civilians, maintain hygiene, obey orders.
"That's it?"
Many people had the same thought.
Compared to the rumors that his rules were so strict they got people kicked off the ship, they sounded fairly reasonable—almost basic requirements.
Soon, Sami made his decision.
He selected eleven men who looked the strongest and carried themselves with the most stable demeanor.
"You eleven. That's it."
"Go pack your belongings, or come aboard with me now. The details of the rules and pay will be explained once you're on the ship."
The chosen men immediately showed relieved expressions and eagerly agreed.
A tall, thin man who hadn't been chosen shouted angrily.
"What's wrong with me?! What makes that fisherman better than me?!"
Sami ignored him.
The man spat bitterly on the floor, but one glare from Gruff made him shrink back and slink away.
After eating and drinking their fill, Sami placed a stack of Beli beneath an empty glass and slid it toward Gruff.
The thickness of the stack clearly exceeded the cost of the meal.
Gruff glanced at it without asking anything.
With one wipe of his rag, he swept both the money and the glass behind the counter, then grinned.
"Safe travels, kid."
Sami and his men left the noisy Sea Monster's Throat, bringing along the eleven newly recruited sailors.
The moment they stepped out of the tavern—
Several tables in the corner suddenly stirred.
Men who had seemed drunk grabbed their weapons and staggered out of the tavern as well, arms slung over each other's shoulders.
Outside, the sea breeze carried the smell of salt and freedom through the streets.
Sami stopped and turned to the eleven new recruits.
"Our ship is called the Swordfish. It's docked at the third pier—the one with the tallest mast."
His tone was brief and direct.
"We'll stay on Barrel Island for three days. Today is the first day. The night after tomorrow, when the tide recedes, we sail."
"These two days, you can pack your belongings… or say goodbye to family and friends."
"When we come back again, who knows how many years it'll be."
"Understood?"
"Yes, Captain!" the eleven sailors answered in unison.
Soon, they scattered in small groups, disappearing into different streets of the town.
Meanwhile, Sami and his four officers walked casually along the stone road leading toward the docks.
The setting sun cast long shadows behind them, stretching across the uneven stone pavement like black silhouettes.
But just as they turned a quiet corner—
They all stopped at the same time.
Figures had already blocked every path ahead and behind them.
Seven or eight men surrounded them from all directions.
They were the same bounty hunters from the tavern.
Their leader had two crossed scars across his face. A rusted cleaver rested on his shoulder as he grinned, revealing yellow teeth.
"We watched you show off in the tavern for a while. Finally caught you outside. A seven-million-Beli head is too good to pass up."
The tall, thin man who hadn't been selected earlier spat on the ground.
"Save those rules of yours for the fish at the bottom of the sea."
Sami looked at them calmly.
There wasn't a hint of surprise on his face—only mockery.
"I thought you'd wait a little longer. Maybe find a darker, narrower alley."
He shrugged slightly.
"Didn't expect you to lose your patience so quickly."
The scar-faced bounty hunter licked his lips greedily.
"Riberra Sami. Blame yourself for being worth too much money—and wandering around alone."
"Alone?"
Sami chuckled softly.
Beside him, his four officers moved in perfect coordination, forming a small defensive circle back-to-back.
"Who told you…"
Sami slowly raised his hand.
At his fingertips, a faint translucent liquid began to seep out.
"…that we weren't waiting for you to make the first move?"