The port of Ring Island.
Inside the damp, sweltering cabin.
Sitting cross-legged beside an electric lamp, Sesame Paste was reading aloud to the children gathered around her from a storybook she had borrowed from Sisi.
At first, Misa had been doing this alone, hoping to relieve the restless children's boredom and teach them to read and write along the way.
Later, Sesame Paste had joined in as well.
Thanks to this, she had recently noticed that her Human Alliance language had improved significantly, particularly in reading and writing. She could now read common texts without relying on her VM.
Squatting beside Sesame Paste, a little girl of about seven or eight hugged her knees, her eyes fixed intently on the cat ears twitching atop Sesame Paste's head.
When a story came to an end, she could finally contain her curiosity no longer and spoke up in a soft, childish voice.
"Big Sister."
"What is it?" Turning a page, Sesame Paste looked at the little girl with a gentle smile.
Sesame Paste remembered that the girl's name was Gooseberry.
Her father was a fruit farmer who had entrusted her to the ship before vanishing into the jungle outside Golden Gallon Port alongside other Moon Clan members determined to resist.
Like many of the children here, she had no family aboard, and Misa had been looking after her all this time.
The little girl looked timidly at Sesame Paste. She hesitated for a moment in embarrassment, but in the end, she voiced what was on her mind.
"Are you an envoy of the Goddess of the Silver Moon?"
Startled for a moment, Sesame Paste blinked and asked, "Why do you ask that?"
"Because that's what everyone says... everyone on the ship," the little girl continued in a whisper. "I was wondering... could the Goddess of the Silver Moon in Silver Moon Bay and the Moon Goddess of Bolo Province actually be the same person?"
Now and then, she would see mercenaries from Silver Moon Bay secretly praying toward this cat-eared sister, yet the folks in the cabin claimed she was an incarnation of the Moon Goddess.
Everyone said something different, leaving her thoroughly confused about what this cat-eared sister truly was.
Looking at the pairs of eager, watching eyes, Sesame Paste couldn't help breaking into a chuckle. She reached out and gently patted Gooseberry's little head.
"Well... that might actually be the case. After all, whether it's myths or history, they're all written by people."
"Really?" Not only Gooseberry, but all the children's eyes lit up.
"Mhm!" Sesame Paste said with a smile. "It just so happens that Big Sister has a good friend who loves researching this sort of thing... You can discuss it with her. She might look like she doesn't like talking to people, but she's actually very warmhearted."
After finishing the story, Sesame Paste closed the book, lightly brushed off her pants, and stood up from the floor. At that moment, she noticed an elderly woman watching her, so she walked over with a warm smile.
"Is something the matter?"
The elderly woman was named Sangru. Sixty years of age, she was the oldest survivor here and a highly respected elder among the Moon Clan people.
Looking at Sesame Paste as she approached, the old woman gave a slight nod and spoke in an earnest tone.
"It is nothing. I only wished to thank you on behalf of everyone... Those children are pitiful souls. Their fathers are fighting the armies of the Xilan Empire thousands of kilometers away, and who knows if they will ever be reunited. Thanks to you and Misa, at least they have the chance to learn."
"I'm only doing what little I can, and it makes me happy, too." Faced with such heartfelt gratitude, Sesame Paste felt a bit shy and scratched her cheek in embarrassment.
"Even so, we are deeply grateful to you and your friends who took us in," Sangru said, looking at her earnestly, a hint of shame in her voice. "If there is anything we can do to help, please be sure to tell us, even if it is just washing your clothes or scrubbing the deck. We have been eating your food and using your supplies all this time... We truly feel guilty in our hearts."
Seeing how serious the old woman was, Sesame Paste felt caught between laughter and tears. "You really don't need to do that. We—"
"This is very important to us." Sangru lowered her gaze apologetically. "Forgive me, as these words may put you in an awkward position. In the ancestral teachings of our Moon Clan, only food earned through labor has dignity... We are grateful for your help, and we will certainly repay you, but if conditions permit, please give us the chance to earn our own dignity."
Sesame Paste stared blankly at the elderly woman.
Sensing the sincerity and determination in those eyes, she grasped the woman's wrinkled hands and answered her request with an earnest expression.
"All right, I promise!"
...
At the same time, the deck of the *Rou Rou* was filled with lively chatter.
A girl and a bear were leaning over the railing with binoculars, eagerly peering toward the west.
"Ohoho! Rou Rou! Another ship is coming!"
"I see it! It's a whole size bigger than ours!"
Although they had been bored out of their minds in port for several days, the two clowns never let themselves stay idle and always managed to invent their own amusement.
Like right now.
The two of them were playing a ship-guessing game, wagering whether the first vessel to dock today would be a warship or a freighter.
From the looks of it, Rou Rou was going to win without a doubt.
A freighter belching black smoke, with a long and wide deck, was currently heading toward the port, guided by two speedboats.
The moment that fully laden cargo ship came into view, the dock's loudspeaker blared to life like rain after a long drought.
Spurred by the broadcast, the workers sunbathing along the shore got to their feet one after another, casually slung towels over their shoulders, and sauntered toward their workstations, scattering a flock of seagulls gathered on the pier in mid-chorus.
The previously leisurely port instantly surged with bustling activity once more.
With heavy fighting underway across the Southern Sea, few outside vessels visited Ring Island, even though it was located far from the center of the conflict.
Gazing out across the vast, empty sea, Rou Rou sometimes naively wondered if that was why the port governor hadn't kicked them out.
After all, those docks would have sat empty anyway.
At least they paid a detention fee of 1,000 dinars every day.
Tail: "Ooh! Rou Rou! Do you see what's piled on that deck?"
Rou Rou: "I can't see clearly. Looks like ore?"
Tail suddenly yelled out, "Oh no, Rou Rou, we're in trouble! That ship... might be pirates!"
Rou Rou turned in bewilderment toward Tail, who had suddenly adopted a grave expression while stroking her chin. "Huh?! How on earth did you figure that out?!"
"See, that's where you don't get it, Rou Rou."
Pocketing her binoculars, Tail planted one foot on the ship's railing and smartly cocked her not-so-clever half-eyebrow.
"Tail saw right through it in a single glance! That *Northwest Wind* sailing in with the northwest wind is actually a pirate ship disguised as a freighter! They ransacked the port and kidnapped the governor's daughter, but luckily the White Bear Knights stopped them... That's how it always goes in the movies!"
Finally realizing that this knucklehead was joking again, Rou Rou let out a sigh of relief and roasted her with exasperation, "What kind of ridiculous name is *Northwest Wind*?"
"Well, the ship came from the northwest, so don't sweat the small stuff! Aren't there far more roast-worthy things to focus on, Rou Rou?!"
As she spoke, Tail suddenly wrinkled her nose.
"Wait... Rou Rou, do you smell something weird?"
Rou Rou blinked, facing the sea breeze, and took a deep breath. An instant later, her furry bear face scrunched up into a knot, and she pinched her nose, sticking out her pink tongue.
"*Gag!*"
"It stinks!"
...
At the same time, on the deck of the *Northwest Wind*, pelts laid out across the planks were giving off a thick, nauseating stench.
Although Mogavi had anticipated that the furs might already be starting to turn, the rate at which organic matter decomposed in a tropical climate far exceeded his imagination.
The moment his mercenaries untied the hemp ropes binding the stacks of pelts, a pungent, foul odor instantly engulfed the entire deck.
The stench was like opening an entire shipping container full of canned surströmming all at once. Even the boldest Awakened recoiled several paces before regaining their footing.
Yet Mogavi couldn't afford to care about that.
To prevent the pelts from continuing to rot and ferment, he could only endure the churning in his stomach and urge the retreating mercenaries to spread the hides across the deck one by one, then scoop up buckets of seawater and douse them repeatedly.
There was actually nothing wrong with this treatment method.
When salt was scarce, pouring seawater directly onto furs to rub and beat them was a recognized method for tanning hides and leather.
The brine not only killed surface bacteria but also prevented the pelts from cracking, while washing away sweat, blood, and grease.
However, Mogavi had still underestimated the crude state of this batch of goods—as well as the waterproofing of the freighter *Northwest Wind*.
Bucket after bucket of seawater failed to wash the rancid smell overboard; instead, the water, mingled with rendered fat and bloody discharge, seeped straight down into the lower hold.
Now, the entire lower deck looked like a crime scene, smeared everywhere with sticky grease and wet bloodstains.
Seeing his beloved vessel reduced to such an appalling state, Captain Song Haining turned pale around the lips, his entire face flushing the color of pig liver.
If not for his hiring fee still being held in escrow at the port of Silver Moon Bay, he would have loved nothing more than to toss this merchant and his cheap pile of garbage straight overboard to feed the fish!
"...I'll say it one more time! The moment we dock, get these damn things off my ship immediately! The cargo we agreed to haul was coal and iron! Not these moldy, stinking pieces of shit!"
"What moldy, stinking pieces of shit?!" Mogavi stared at him, eyes wide. "Do you have any idea how much these things can sell for in the desert?! Especially up north in the Golden Lizard Kingdom—they're even more popular than silk made from devil silk!"
Song Haining glared back with a face like thunder.
"I don't care what they are, they weren't in the contract! You breached the agreement first, Mr. Mogavi! And our contract clearly stipulated that my ship does not haul fresh goods!"
Mogavi argued vehemently, "These aren't fresh goods! They're pelts—"
Song Haining cut him off in a fury, "Enough! Don't play word games with me! These damn things were stripped straight off the carcasses!"
Mogavi clasped his hands together and looked at him pleadingly.
"Please, my friend! Once this deal is done, I'll clean it spotlessly for you! I guarantee there won't be the slightest odor left on your ship!"
"Thirty thousand dinars!" Song Haining snarled, glaring daggers at him. "I won't let you touch my ship ever again! Once we make port in Silver Moon Bay, you can get the hell as far away from me as possible!"
"Fine, deal!" Mogavi nodded like a woodpecker, grinning. "As long as you agree to wait outside that Port French Fries for a little while on the return trip—"
"Get lost!" Unable to stand the man for another second, Song Haining shoved him back and bellowed, "Take your pile of junk and get lost right now!"
Seeing the captain in such a fury, the apprentice at the helm didn't dare speak up, relying solely on his unpracticed experience to ease the ship toward the pier.
The *Northwest Wind* pulled up right beside the *Rou Rou*, leaving the two freighters with completely contrasting aesthetics berthed side by side.
Leaning against their railing to watch the drama unfold, Tail and Rou Rou were thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, even cheering along.
"Ooh! A fight!"
"Go for it!"
Hearing the voices drifting from the deck of the neighboring freighter, Song Haining, who had just been about to grab the unscrupulous merchant by the collar to teach him a lesson, instinctively paused and looked across.
He saw a girl and a bear standing by the railing, peering over.
Meeting his gaze, the short-haired girl waved enthusiastically.
"Hey, friends across the way! Who are you guys?"
Song Haining narrowed his eyes, staring at her and the large white bear beside her for a moment, then glanced at the flag flying above their cabin. Something about it felt familiar.
"This is the *Northwest Wind*! Who are you?"
The moment that name was spoken, the girl and the bear at the railing were struck dumb.
"Ehh?!"
"*Giao!* It really is the *Northwest Wind*?!"
Song Haining stared fixedly at the pair, racking his brain to remember where he had seen these two clowns before. Tail, however, assumed he was waiting for them to introduce themselves. Letting out an "ah," she hurriedly spoke up.
"We're the *Rou Rou*! I'm Tail! And she's Rou Rou!"
Tail?
Song Haining blinked, not having reacted yet. But standing beside him, Mogavi let out an ecstatic shout upon hearing the name.
"Tail?! Wait, you're Tail?!"
Seeing that someone on the boundless sea actually recognized her, Tail beamed with delight. "That's me! You've heard of me?!"
Mogavi chuckled sheepishly, slipping free from the hand clutching his collar.
"I think I've seen your portrait... Ah, I remember now! At the port of Silver Moon Bay! There was a bunch of guys from Bolo Province asking about you everywhere with your picture, and this talking bear next to you!"
Hearing this, Tail and Rou Rou were both taken aback.
"*Giao?!*"
"Why am I wanted too?!"
Seeing their exaggerated reactions, Mogavi quickly explained, "It's not a bounty. I haven't heard any noise from the Lord's Manor in Silver Moon City, but you might have offended some... er, unsavory characters. You'd better be careful lately."
Hearing this, Tail finally let out a sigh of relief.
"Thanks for the tip! We'll keep our eyes open!"
"Don't mention it." Mogavi smiled self-consciously, glanced at Captain Song Haining, and looked back at Tail with an expectant expression. "By the way, do you have any plans to return to Silver Moon Bay anytime soon?"
Tail answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "Nope. Why?"
Mogavi's expression froze, and he scratched the back of his head.
"Ah... That makes things tricky. What a headache. The guy I ran into at Port French Fries told me to come here and ask you."
Catching the scent of a side quest in those words, Tail's eyes instantly sparkled. Gripping the railing with both hands, she asked, "Ooh! Is there a quest—er, no, are you in some kind of trouble?"
"You could say that." Looking at the pile of pelts laid out across the deck, Mogavi sighed helplessly. "Because of this sudden windfall, I've offended my old friend here to death..."
"Who's your old friend?! And is this about money?!" Song Haining glared at him fiercely. "Cut the crap and get these filthy things off my ship right now!"
Seeing the captain glaring at him with rising fury, Mogavi hurriedly raised his hands in an attempt to pacify him.
"I know, I know! Don't get impatient! I have to find the manpower to help me process these goods first, don't I?"
Hearing that, Tail's eyes shone even brighter.
"Wait, you need workers?"
"Do you have any?" Mogavi paused, instinctively sizing up this so-called *Rou Rou*.
He could see a few sailors and mercenaries on the deck, but even counting generously, there couldn't be more than thirty people—possibly fewer than his own crew.
Tail gave a proud smirk.
"Then you've asked the right person! If there's one thing we have plenty of, it's people!"
"That's wonderful... I need two hundred—er, preferably four hundred workers to help me clean these pelts. The method is very simple: just pour seawater over them, scrub thoroughly, and scrape off the decaying flesh on the surface. I'll figure out the tools. If they don't know how, that's fine too; I'll teach them step by step... But do you really have enough people here?" Looking suspiciously at the girl, Mogavi couldn't tell if she was joking or serious, his voice lacking conviction.
"Of course we do! Wait right here!"
Leaving those words behind, Tail scampered away from the railing, rushed over to the cabin, pulled open the door, and hollered inside:
"Si! Come greet the customer!"
"What is it this time, Tail..."
Cradling a half-finished notebook in her arms, Sisi stepped out of the cabin with an exasperated expression. The moment she set foot on the deck, her pretty face wrinkled like a bitter melon.
"*Ugh*—did Rou Rou take a dump on the deck?"
Though that instinctive mutter was quiet, it was still picked up by Rou Rou's sharp ears, prompting a resounding roar across the deck.
"Am I that kind of person?!"
Sisi subtly averted her eyes.
Tail, completely unfazed, grabbed Sisi's shoulder and announced excitedly, "Si! That pirate ship next to us needs people to help process freshly skinned pelts! They need a ton of hands!"
Sisi paused, then walked to the railing and cast a suspicious glance at the man across the way, who was offering a sheepish wave.
"Hello... Are you the captain here?"
Compared to the previous two, his instincts told him that this newcomer might be slightly more reliable.
"No... the one beside me is," Sisi said, glancing back at the big white bear. Then, turning toward the NPC on the opposite ship, she composed herself and asked, "How many people do you need? What's your offer? How are you paying?"
Mogavi looked at her eagerly and said, "The more the better! As long as you can process all these pelts within two days, I can give you one hundred thousand dinars! Cash on the spot!"
Hearing payment in dinars, Sisi immediately adopted a disinterested expression.
"If it were a hundred thousand silver coins, I might consider it. Forget about dinars."
"A hundred thousand silver coins?! Are you pirates?!" Mogavi's eyes widened into saucers. "Absolutely out of the question! I only paid a hundred thousand to buy these pelts in the first place!"
"Oh really? Are you sure you only paid a hundred thousand?"
Sisi narrowed her eyes slightly, tucked the notebook under her arm, rested her elbows on the railing, and looked at him with a knowing smile.
For some reason, being stared at by those eyes made Mogavi feel a chill run down his spine. He swallowed involuntarily, wrestled with himself for a good while, and finally held up three fingers.
"Never mind what I paid for them—thirty thousand silver coins... for the lovely lady's sake."
Ignoring the merchant's flattery, Sisi pointed with her chin toward the far deck.
"That blood marten pelt over there—I believe I saw one in the court of Petra Fortress once. I heard a single piece could fetch upwards of a million dinars. And you managed to snag one, two, three... four of them for just a hundred thousand? Tsk, tsk. You certainly know how to do business."
Meeting that narrowing gaze, Mogavi offered an awkward smile, though a wave of cold sweat broke out across his back. He hadn't expected to run into someone who actually knew the market.
"...What do you want?"
"Nothing much. I'm just making casual conversation, so don't overthink it." With a faint smile, Sisi continued, "Just another offhand comment: these raw hides have been processed... mm, very crudely. If they aren't salvaged right now, they're probably beyond saving. The residents on Ring Island all have their own jobs, and there's a war going on. Even if you have the coin, you might not be able to gather this many hands all at once. Not to mention, they might not have ever done this kind of work before."
Mogavi looked at her in disbelief.
"You have professionals here?"
Sisi replied casually, "I wouldn't say all of them are, but there are one or two out of every ten... That's plenty, isn't it? We can guarantee they'll be cleaned up for you."
On this point, she wasn't lying to the man.
A great many survivors in Bolo Province made their living by hunting, especially among the Moon Clan, who were skilled archers. In typical hunting households, the men went out to hunt while the women processed the hides stripped from the game as a matter of routine.
Among the survivors Tail had rescued from Golden Gallon Port, a considerable portion were hunters. Simple pelt-processing work was naturally second nature to their wives.
Mogavi hesitated for two seconds before finally nodding.
"A hundred thousand silver coins... isn't out of the question! But you have to promise me one condition: don't tell the butchers at Port French Fries about those blood marten pelts..."
He still wanted to keep doing business there.
If those butchers found out he had turned such an enormous profit on this deal, he feared they might skin him alive the next time he went ashore.
Hearing this, Sisi knew the man had swallowed the hook, and a delighted smile appeared on her face.
"Don't worry. They're law-abiding folks. Even if they find out, they won't do anything beyond cussing you out behind your back."
A ten-to-one difference between purchase price and selling price was standard operating procedure for NPCs. Most RPG shops were cut from the exact same cloth; after playing a couple of games, anyone would get used to it.
By comparison, *Wasteland OL* was remarkably considerate: players in this game were granted the extraordinarily rare privilege of choice.
At the very least, once they realized they had been fleeced by an NPC, they could learn their lesson and do business with someone else next time.
Or change their approach to negotiation.
"Then let's hurry... No time to waste." Seeing that both sides had reached an agreement, Mogavi didn't want to delay a single moment and slapped the railing to urge them along.
However, the captain beside him grabbed his collar.
"Hold on. You can't process these goods on my ship! And after unloading, you have to clean my ship inside and out!"
Mogavi looked pleadingly at the woman standing on the opposite vessel.
Reading the look, Sisi smiled faintly and said, "Add another ten thousand silver coins, and we'll take care of the cleaning for you while we're at it."
"Ten thousand silver coins?! Why don't you just—" Hearing this price, Mogavi's eyes bulged like a captured toad's. Before he could finish his sentence, however, he was cut off by the captain of the *Northwest Wind*.
"Deal! It's settled!"
Seeing both of them staring at him, Mogavi wore an expression more pained than chronic constipation, but thinking of the stinking cargo on the deck, he finally nodded.
"Deal."
"Then it's happily decided. One hundred and ten thousand silver coins. I'll go let the girls know."
With a slight curve of her lips, Sisi turned and headed back into the cabin.
Within minutes, a large group of raggedly dressed women filed onto the deck through the cramped, narrow hatchway.
The moment they saw the women, both Mogavi and Song Haining froze in unison, and the way they looked at Sisi underwent an immediate shift.
"...Tell me honestly, what kind of business do you people actually run?"
Flipping a lock of hair off her shoulder, Sisi replied casually, "Charity work."
Mogavi stared at her with an expression that screamed, *Like hell I believe you.*
Not bothering to explain further, Sisi glanced at the opposite deck, then back at her own, and said offhandedly, "Go to the port and buy a few tarps, or borrow some—it won't cost much."
"There are plenty at the stalls selling fish feed and urea. I don't want to get our ship dirty."
Chapter 674