Chapter 500: Interrogating White Shark

Bam!

The bartender fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

White Shark Hamilton snorted and didn't say anything. He turned around

and walked towards the second floor, stepping on the creaking wooden

stairs.

After the excitement was over, the drunkards dispersed one by one.

Unaffected, Captain Elland and the others returned upstairs to continue

playing cards.

Klein took the opportunity to follow.

He returned to Flying Fish & Wine, not to deal with White Shark who

didn't pose any threat to him but rather to simply get more information

from the owner of the bar, who was connected to many pirate factions.

After all, he had named his new identity Gehrman, which secretly implied

hunting pirates whose hands were stained with blood. He planned on using

their souls, flesh, and Beyonder characteristics to replace the souls in

Creeping Hunger who were awaiting their release.

There was no gas in Damir Harbor, and the corridor on the second floor

was relatively dark. The brass candle stands that were inlaid into each

wall flickered and dimmed.

Klein observed the surroundings as he wiped his face, silently

transforming into one of the bouncers on the first floor.

He used Illusion Creation to compensate for his mismatched attire.

After finishing his preparations, he walked towards the room that his

spiritual intuition identified as belonging to White Shark Hamilton.

He first passed the card room, but he didn't attract anyone's attention.

He stopped in front of the bouncers who were guarding the corridor and

said in a low voice, "There's something going on downstairs again."

"Holy Lord of Storms, what's happening tonight?" A bouncer sighed.

"I hope those beautiful people don't get hurt," another guard said

worriedly.

He was referring to the whores who got their business in the bar.

"They're fine." Klein stepped past the bouncers and knocked on White

Shark's door.

"Who is it?" Hamilton warily asked.

"Boss, it's me. Something happened downstairs again!" Klein remembered

the information he gleaned while watching the commotion and deliberately

hoarsened his voice.

"Damn it!" Hamilton bellowed, "Come in and explain to me what happened!"

Klein turned the doorknob and walked in.

When he closed the door, he dispelled the illusion, and the muscles on

his face rapidly squirmed, returning to his previous identity---a new

customer with blond hair, blue eyes, and ordinary facial features.

"You..." Hamilton was stunned for a moment before he immediately opened

his mouth wide in an attempt to shout loudly.

At the same time, many illusory fish scales surfaced on the back of his

hand, his originally large and fat body burgeoning.

Suddenly, his heart began to beat faster, and a strong instinctive fear

seized him by the throat.

At this moment, he felt that the stranger standing by the door was a

demon that had been starved for many days, repeatedly examining his

flesh and soul with an ice-cold, craving look in his eyes.

All of a sudden, White Shark Hamilton was gripped by an extreme panic,

and he failed to effectively respond.

Klein slowly walked to the sofa and sat down. He politely smiled.

"Now, can we talk calmly?"

The feeling of being stared at by a horrifying monster suddenly

disappeared. Hamilton relaxed all of a sudden while his body shriveled

up a lot like a punctured balloon.

He didn't rashly cry for help as he asked with beads of sweat lining his

forehead, "Who are you? What do you want?"

"A hunter," Klein answered casually, "I heard that you're connected to a

number of pirate factions. I would like to know their respective

situations."

"No, I'm not..." White Shark Hamilton subconsciously denied.

He immediately felt the extreme hunger again, and he felt as if the

man's eyes were dyed with a dark red layer.

Klein inwardly deliberated over his persona and said with a gentlemanly

smile, "You have two choices.

"One is to answer frankly. The second is to be killed by me and then

answer honestly."

Killing to channel my spirit? White Shark Hamilton had heard

of similar rumors. He swallowed hard and asked, "Why do you want to know

about any of this?"

Klein smiled and answered, "I'm a hunter, so I'm chasing after

bounties."

Hamilton suddenly felt that the man's polite smile was tinged with an

indescribable madness, and he couldn't help but blurt out, "Are... Are

you mad?

"I've seen many similar adventurers, but all of them have been buried at

the bottom of the sea!

"It's not hard to kill a lone pirate, but can you defend against any

further retaliation? The whores in the bar or the seemingly ordinary

customers might all be pirate informants! Your friendly accomplice could

be bribed at any moment and you'll be shot in the back! The pirates will

gather information in advance and surround your ship. Can you protect

all the passengers? Can you survive a cannon bombardment? On the sea

where there's no room to run, how are you going to survive?"

After venting the horror in his heart in one breath, he saw the man, who

called himself a hunter, reveal a gentle and kind smile.

"Just have them all killed, and then there won't be such a problem."

A true madman... White Shark Hamilton immediately took a deep

breath and said, "I'm in contact with many pirates, but it's a passive

relationship. They need to sell the cash, jewelry, and goods that they

plundered in exchange for alcohol, food, fresh water, weapons, and

women's comfort. This has to happen through me, but I can only wait here

for them. I don't know where their ships pass or where they're going."

"What else?" Klein asked calmly.

His reply just now was mainly to scare White Shark. As for having

revenge sought on him by the pirates, he wasn't worried at all. As a

Faceless, he might as well find a place to drown himself at the bottom

of the sea if they could find him so easily.

And... White Shark Hamilton's throat moved, without

immediately giving an affirmative or negative description.

He tightly closed his mouth and looked at the gentleman in the half top

hat. The gentleman's eyes were calm and reserved, as though madness was

brewing within him.

The uneasy silence was like the calm sea surface before a storm, gently

resounding, colliding, and fermenting.

Finally, Hamilton shifted his gaze away and placed his hand on the desk

in frustration.

"Yes, I'm still gathering information for them. If there's any urgent

information, I'll use the radio transceiver they gave me to alert them."

White Shark didn't dare to take the risk and was afraid that the man

possessed unique Beyonder powers that could determine if he was speaking

the truth or if he was saying the whole truth.

"Radio transceiver?" Klein, who had succeeded in laying his bets,

sharply caught onto a noun.

"That's what they call it when speaking to me. It's like a telegram, but

it doesn't require a wire." Hamilton turned and walked over to the gray

safe and squatted down.

*A wireless telegraph? The pirates possess such advanced

technology?* Klein could vaguely guess what the radio

transceiver was.

He had previously thought of inventing something like this, but when he

flipped through relevant magazines, he realized that wireless telegrams

had long since appeared. However, it hadn't found its place in the

commercial world. The Berserk Sea, which separated the Northern and

Southern Continents with its constant thunder and lightning, the chaotic

magnetic field, and violent storms, made only a few sea routes

accessible. Even if one was equipped with wireless telegraphs, they were

almost useless. Similarly, the weather in the Fog Sea and the Sonia Sea

had changed drastically, and there were a number of factors that

affected electromagnetic transmission. The use of wireless telegrams had

been severely restricted.

*Could it be that there's an enhanced model that can solve some of those

problems?* Klein watched as White Shark pried open the floor

plank in front of the safe and twisted a mechanism to reveal a secret

door in the wall.

Behind the secret door was a hidden cabinet with three levels. On the

top level were some documents and bills, a revolver, a new type of

half-arm gun, and other weapons, while the bottom layer was filled with

complicated black machinery.

With just a glance, Klein deduced from his previous life's impression

and the information he had gathered previously, that the mechanical

construct belonged to a radio transceiver.

"That's what they call it. It's called a radio transceiver. The news it

transmits can be received by similar items as far as the Rorsted

Archipelago. Any further and it'll depend on the weather and one's luck.

Usually, it's very troublesome and limited." Hamilton didn't know much

about the machine, and he was vaguely describing the corresponding

situation based on his experiences using it and what he had been taught.

*It's better than the new radio transceivers that are now being

commercialized... I wonder who invented it...* Klein quietly

listened and asked, "Who are they?"

He made himself look like a bounty hunter who didn't understand

technology.

White Shark Hamilton wiped the cold sweat off his forehead and said,

"Silver Coin Viper Oder who claims to serve the owner of the Dawn, as

well as the intelligence officer of Admiral of Blood, Old Quinn. They

appeared together, and I can't be certain if they're working together.

Of course, Oder has always only made claims."

The owner of the Dawn, that Queen Mystic? Klein looked away, a

gold coin appearing in his hand.

The gold coin kept weaving between his fingers before finally leaping

into the air and landing. It left White Shark puzzled as he trembled in

fear and trepidation.

Lowering his head to take a glance, Klein slowly stood up.

At this moment, he suddenly asked, "Who gave you the potion?"

"O-Old Quinn..." Hamilton hesitated but still chose to answer honestly.

Klein nodded and no longer asked. He turned and walked towards the door.

Thud! The wooden door opened and closed. The figure wearing a

black coat disappeared from White Shark's room.

Hamilton held his breath, waited for more than ten seconds, and finally

let out a long sigh.

He quickly wiped the sweat from his face, placed the radio receiver on

the desk, flipped through a codebook, and hurriedly sent a telegram into

the distance:

"I was targeted!

"By an unfamiliar fellow!"

Beside the completely engrossed Hamilton, Klein had his hands in his

pockets as he quietly watched, taking in the entire frequency spectrum

and the passcodes.

His departure just now was just a large-scale magic show, more than

enough to deal with a Low-Sequence Beyonder like White Shark's Sailor

pathway.

As for the question of whether or not he would be able to remember the

details later, a Seer didn't need to worry over it. A dream divination

was enough to recall everything.

*Admiral of Blood and his men enjoy killing and love blood. They're

passionate about enacting violence against women. Every time they rob a

passenger ship, they would always cause a tragedy... This is public

information known by everyone, and they themselves were proud of it.

They're never stingy with their proclamations... The target of the hunt

and the risk involved---*

I'll give priority to them... Klein thought for a moment and

then prepared to leave the room while Hamilton tidied and put away the

radio transceiver.

He didn't plan on dealing with White Shark for the time being, as he was

afraid of disturbing the real prey. Anyways, this kind of fellow who was

on land with a fixed territory could be easily dealt with in a letter

later since he had dirt on him.

Klein's soundless footsteps caused the door to slowly open and then

quietly close, bringing in a slight cool breeze.