34 Loose Lips Sink Ships #34

Several hours later

Centaurea's docks.

"Time to gather some information, I guess..." I muttered, pulling the hood down over my face as I jumped onto the docks. "Still, this place looks like shit..." I mused as I looked around and noticed the horrible state of most of the buildings around the waterfront.

Centaurea was a small island that looked like a tiny coin on the map and, as such, had only one city. Small as it may be, the country of Centaurea was at the mouth of the Reverse Mountain and was supposedly rich in mineral resources, meaning it was a World Government affiliate.

Architecture-wise, the country looked like one big European city from the medieval ages. I imagine it was a beautiful sight to behold at some point, but it looked like nothing more than one giant slum right now.

Naturally, the royal family's palace was the only contrast to the city's slum-like appearance as it stood tall and clean, and I could see it all the way from the docks.

"No wonder the people sided with the revolutionary army..." I raised an eyebrow as I watched three men kick down a fruit stall and beat its owner bloody before taking his money and leaving. "It's got nothing to do with me, though..." I shrugged my shoulders and kept walking deeper into the city.

"Hmm...?" I intoned, promptly halting my steps as I walked past what seemed to be a worn-out bar with broken windows. "The Loose Lips Tavern... this looks like a good place to gather information..." I muttered to no one in particular, chuckling as I read the sign over the bar's entrance.

Shrugging my shoulders, I headed to the entrance and smiled, reminded of home as a wooden chair flew right over my head. "I like this place already..." I remarked as I strolled into the bar's interior, ducking another piece of furniture.

Ignoring the drunken alcoholics beating the crap out of each other, I scanned the area and instantly found the bartender, a man in a white shirt and a black vest, watching the fight with a blank expression as he dried a shot glass with a white cloth.

"Must be hard running a business around here..." I said, clearing my throat to get the bartender's attention as I sat on a stool before the bar's counter. "You must be quite the patient man..." I added with a smile as he turned to me.

"Patient and tight-lipped, that's me, Dallin Vesh..." The bartender said with a chuckle. "Welcome to the Loose Lips Tavern... what can I do for you?" He asked, putting on a business-like smile.

"A bottle of good rum would be a good start..." I said, and the bartender, Dallin, nodded as he reached into shelves behind him and retrieved my order. "So... Dallin Vesh, how tight-lipped are you, exactly?" I asked as I took the bottle from his hands and put 5000 Beris on the bar's counter.

"I am the most tight-lipped bartender you'll ever meet, sir..." Dallin replied as he put his hand on the money. "Just ask me any question, and you will see..." He added, passing his thumb and index fingers over his lips as he pocketed the money.

"What's happening around the country? Is there anything a law-abiding newcomer like myself needs to be wary of?" I calmly asked as I removed the cork from the rum bottle with my teeth and took a sip.

"If I weren't so tight-lipped, which I am, I'd say that the country is on the verge of a revolution..." Dallin said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. "I'd also mention the rumors flying around about agents of the revolutionary army preparing to make a move on the country..." he added, shrugging his shoulders.

"Some say Centaurea will turn into a bloody battlefield soon, but I'll never tell you that. I'm the most tight-lipped bartender, after all..." he concluded with a grin.

"Makes sense, I suppose..." I said, raising my hand to catch a chair flying toward me. "Anything else I need to know?" I asked as I quickly turned around and threw the stool back at the drunkard who threw it at me.

"Well, there's an influx of pirates and bounty hunters flooding the country, but I can tell you that since it's common knowledge," Dallin replied as he calmly reached under the counter, retrieved a flintlock pistol, and shot a drunkard charging toward him with a knife.

"I see..." I remarked as I took another sip from the rum bottle and slid more cash over the counter. "There's a pirate called Roshio who's been terrorizing the good folks of South Blue for a while now..." I said as I watched Dallin promptly pocket the money.

"Know where I might find him?" I asked.

"Certainly not. There's zero chance I'd tell you he was last seen on the southern docks. After all--" Dallin said, pausing halfway through his sentence as I stood up and cut him off.

"You're the most tight-lipped bartender there was, there is, and there will ever be..." I said with a chuckle. "Thanks for the good rum, mate," I added, raising the bottle as I turned around and walked away.

...

Meanwhile

On the other side of town

As he walked out of the marine branch carrying a duffle bag, Wayland couldn't help but frown as he felt it weighing him down. "Come on, lads, let's move on before the lowlifes catch wind of our windfall..." he added as he gestured for the five sailors waiting for him to come closer.

The sailor nodded and promptly hurried to his side as he walked toward the port with a vigilant expression. "How much did we get for the head, cap'n...?" asked one of the sailors as he alternated his gaze between Wayland and the duffle bag.

"It doesn't matter until we reach the ship..." Wayland replied, firmly shaking his head. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch and all that.." he added with a scoff.

"Sorry, cap'n... I was just curious..." the sailor said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Still... that--" he added, freezing as a building's wall ahead of him exploded open, and a man dressed in tattered rags flew through it.

Wayland was the first to draw his weapons, and the five sailors quickly followed suit as a tall, dark-skinned man with black hair in short spiky dreadlocks calmly walked through the hole in the wall.

"The only thing you need to worry about right now is your own life..." The dark-skinned man said as he adjusted the collar of his long red leather windbreaker. "All that crap about comrades won't do you any good..." he added as he reached into his inner pocket and retrieved an ornate revolver.

"Will you tell me what I want to know and live...?" the tall man asked as he flicked open the revolver's chamber and blew into it. "Or will you hold on to your naive ideals and die here and now...?" he added with a grin as he raised the gun and fired, shooting an explosive projectile next to the head of the guy on the ground.

"I... I'll talk... please don't kill me..." the man in rags said through gritted teeth as he almost lost consciousness from the explosive projectile exploding next to his head. "They're on the southern docks... everything is there too... that's all I know..." he frantically added as he tried to crawl away.

"That wasn't so hard, was it...?" the dark-skinned man said with a grin as he put away his revolver. "And now you get to live another day..." he added as he turned around to walk away, only to pause as he noticed Wayland and his five subordinates.

"Hmm?" the dark-skinned man intoned as he lowered his shades and scanned the six men standing before him. "Do you need something from me...?" he asked, his tone icy as he put his hand into his pocket.

"Nope... just passing through..." Wayland said as he sheathed his sword and gestured for his subordinates to do the same. "Come on, lads, move out of the gentleman's way..." he added as he stepped aside, and the sailors could only oblige.

The dark-skinned man merely nodded, keeping his hand in his pocket as he walked past Wayland and the sailors, and they were content to watch him leave without saying anything as well.

"Cap'n... that guy..." one of the sailors remarked after waiting for the dark-skinned man to disappear from sight. "He looks somewhat familiar..." he added, scratching his head.

"He's a bounty hunter... a ruthless one at that..." Wayland replied with a frown. "Gem, I think his name was, but it's better not to get involved with him and his lot..." he added, shaking his head as he resumed walking.

"Let's head back to the ship for now..."

...

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