thump!

The bartender fell to the ground, curled up in pain and rolled over.

"White Shark" Hamilton snorted heavily, said nothing, turned around and walked towards the second floor, making the wooden steps creak.

After watching the excitement, the drunkards dispersed one after another, and Captain Ireland and others returned to the upper level without being affected and continued to play cards.

Klein took this opportunity and followed him up the stairs.

He returned to "Flying Fish and Wine" not to deal with the "White Shark" for the non-existent danger, but purely to learn more information from the bar owner who had connections with multiple pirate forces. After all, he named his new identity German, and the hidden meaning was to hunt down pirates with blood on their hands and use their souls, flesh, and extraordinary characteristics to replace those waiting to be released in "Creeping Hunger".

There was no gas in Damir Port, so the corridor on the second floor was quite dark. The lights on the brass candlesticks inlaid on the walls on both sides flickered and were as dim as seedlings.

As Klein observed the environment, he reached out and wiped his face, then quietly transformed into a guard on the first floor.

As for the difference in clothing and decoration, he made up for it with his ability to create illusions.

After getting ready, he walked towards the room of Hamilton, the "white shark" in his spiritual intuition.

He first passed by the place where people were playing cards without attracting anyone's attention.

He came to the guards guarding the passage, stopped consciously, and said in a low voice:

"There's something going on downstairs again."

"Storm above, what happened tonight?" a guard sighed.

"I hope those lovely girls won't get hurt." Another guard said with a little concern.

He was referring to the prostitutes who depended on the bars.

"They're fine." Klein walked past the guards and came to the door of the White Shark. He raised his hand and knocked on it cautiously.

"Who?" Hamilton asked warily.

"Boss, it's me. Something's happening downstairs again!" Klein recalled the address he had received while watching the fun just now, and spoke in a deliberately hoarse voice.

"Damn it!" Hamilton roared, "Come in and explain what happened!"

Klein turned the handle and walked in.

As he closed the door, he lifted the illusion, and his facial muscles moved rapidly, turning back into his previous identity - a new drinker with blond hair, blue eyes and ordinary features.

"You..." Hamilton was stunned at first, then opened his mouth and tried to shout.

At the same time, phantom fish scales appeared on the back of his hand, and his already tall and fat body swelled even more.

Suddenly, his heart began to beat faster and an instinctive fear gripped his throat.

At this moment, he felt that the stranger standing at the door was a demon who had been hungry for many days, examining his flesh and soul with cold and eager eyes.

In an instant, "White Shark" Hamilton fell into extreme panic and was unable to respond effectively.

Klein walked slowly to the sofa, sat down, and said with a polite smile:

"Can we have a peaceful conversation now?"

The feeling of being stared at by a terrifying monster suddenly disappeared, and Hamilton felt relaxed. His body became much shrunk like a punctured balloon.

He no longer rashly called for help, and asked with sweat on his forehead:

"Who are you? What do you want to do?"

"A hunter." Klein answered casually, "I heard that you have connections with many pirate forces. I want to know the relevant situation."

"No, I didn't..." "White Shark" Hamilton denied subconsciously.

He immediately felt that crazy hunger again, and he felt that the eyes of the man opposite him seemed to be stained with a layer of dark red.

Klein considered the character in his mind and said with a gentle smile:

“You have two choices.

"One is to answer honestly, the other is to be killed by me, and then, answer honestly."

Killing people with spiritualism? "White Shark" Hamilton had heard similar rumors and swallowed hard, saying:

"Why do you want to know this?"

Klein smiled and said:

"I am a hunter, and I pursue the bounty."

Hamilton suddenly felt that the other party's polite smile was filled with unspeakable madness, and couldn't help but blurt out:

"You, are you crazy?

“I have seen many similar adventurers, but they all died at the bottom of the sea!

"It's not difficult to kill a pirate alone, but can you guard against subsequent retaliation? The prostitute in the bar, who looks like an ordinary customer, may be the pirate's informant! Your friendly accomplices can be bribed at any time and shoot you in the back! The pirates will also collect intelligence in advance and surround the ship you are on. Can you protect all the passengers? Can you survive the bombardment of cannons and the sea where you can't escape?"

After venting all his fears in one breath, he saw the man who called himself a hunter smiling gently and politely once again:

"If we kill them all, there won't be these problems."

...A real madman... "White Shark" Hamilton took a breath and said:

"I have connections with many pirates, but they are all passive. The cash, jewelry, and goods they robbed need to be sold and exchanged for liquor, food, fresh water, weapons, and women's comfort. All of this has to go through me, but I can only wait for them here. I don't know where their ships are sailing and what their nearest target is."

"What else?" Klein asked calmly.

His answer just now was mainly to scare the "White Shark". As for the pirates' revenge, he was not worried at all. As a "Faceless Man", if he was found so easily, he might as well find a place to sink to the bottom of the sea.

And... "White Shark" Hamilton's throat moved, but he did not immediately make a positive or negative description.

He kept his mouth shut, staring at the gentleman in the half-high silk hat, and met his calm and reserved eyes, which seemed to be brewing madness.

The unsettling silence is like the sea before a storm, gently undulating, colliding, and fermenting.

Finally, Hamilton looked away, resting his hands on the table in front of him and said irritably:

"Yes, I'm still collecting information for them. If there is any urgent intelligence, I will use the radio they gave me to alert them."

The "white shark" dare not take risks, fearing that the other party has unique extraordinary abilities and can judge whether he is telling the truth and whether he is telling the whole truth.

"Radio?" Klein, who had successfully negotiated the game, keenly caught a noun.

"That's what they told me it's called. It's similar to a telegraph, but it doesn't require wires." Hamilton turned and walked to the gray-white safe and squatted down.

Wireless telegraph? Pirates are so high-tech? Klein vaguely guessed what the other party was talking about.

He had thought about inventing something similar, but when he flipped through the relevant magazines he found out that wireless telegraphy had already appeared a long time ago, but it had not yet found its place in the commercial field. The Raging Sea that separated the northern and southern continents was filled with constant lightning and thunder, a turbulent magnetic field, and raging storms. Only a few shipping lanes were navigable, and even with wireless telegraphy, it was almost useless. Similarly, the Misty Sea and the Sonia Sea had drastic weather changes, and there were many factors that affected electromagnetic propagation, and the application of wireless telegraphy was greatly restricted.

Could it be that there is an improved version that can solve some of the problems? Klein watched as White Shark pried open the floor in front of the safe and twisted the device to create a secret door on the wall.

Behind the secret door is a hidden cabinet divided into three compartments. The top compartment contains some documents and bills, the middle compartment contains revolvers, new half-arm guns and other weapons, and the bottom compartment is filled with complex black machinery.

Klein only took a glance and, based on his impressions from his previous life and the information he had collected previously, determined that the mechanical artifact was a radio station.

"That's it. They call it a radio. The messages it sends can be received by similar devices as far as the Rorsted Islands. For farther, it depends on the weather and luck. Normally, it is also very troublesome and has many restrictions." Hamilton didn't quite understand it. Based on the teachings he received and his experience, he vaguely described the corresponding situation.

It’s more powerful than the new radio stations that are currently being commercialized... I don’t know who invented it... Klein listened quietly and asked directly:

"who are they?"

He made himself appear like a bounty hunter who didn't understand technology.

"White Shark" Hamilton wiped the cold sweat from his forehead:

"Odel, the 'Silver Viper' who claimed to be serving the master of the 'Dawn', and Old Quinn, the intelligence officer of the 'Blood Admiral', appeared together. I cannot confirm whether they are cooperating. Of course, Odel has always only claimed it."

The owner of the Dawn, the "mysterious queen"? Klein looked away, and a gold coin appeared in his hand.

The gold coins kept rolling between his fingers, and finally jumped into the air and fell down, leaving "White Shark" confused and trembling with fear.

After looking down, Klein slowly stood up.

At this moment, he suddenly asked:

"Who gave you the potion?"

"Old, old Quinn..." Hamilton hesitated and chose to answer honestly.

Klein nodded slightly, stopped asking questions, and turned to walk towards the door.

Clang! The wooden door opened and closed again, and the figure in the black woolen coat disappeared into the room of "White Shark".

Hamilton held his breath, waited for more than ten seconds, and finally let out a long sigh.

He quickly wiped the sweat off his face, moved the radio to the table, took out a code book, and busily sent a telegram to a distant place:

“I’m being watched!

"A strange fellow!"

Next to Hamilton, who was concentrating on his work, Klein put his hands in his pockets and watched quietly, taking in the contents of the band spectrum and the code book.

His departure just now was just a large-scale illusion show, which was more than enough to deal with White Shark, a low-sequence person of the "Sailor" path.

As for the question of whether the specific content can be remembered later, the "fortune teller" does not need to worry about it. A "dream divination" can recall everything.

The Blood Admiral and his men love killing, love blood, and are keen on violence against women. Every time they rob a passenger ship, they always create a tragedy... This is a recognized fact, and they themselves are very proud of it, and they are always generous in publicizing it... Hunting targets, adventure objects, they are given priority... Klein thought for a moment, and while Hamilton was packing up the radio, he prepared to really leave the room.

He had no plans to deal with the "white shark" for the time being, for fear of disturbing the real prey. Anyway, this guy was on land, had a fixed territory, and he had the upper hand over him, so he could easily deal with it with a letter of complaint afterwards.

As Klein walked silently, the door slowly opened and then quietly closed, bringing in a slight cool breeze.

PS: It’s the last day and a half of November, please give me a monthly ticket~

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