The creaking of the Leviathan's hull echoed like an old beast's breath. It was evening, and the scent of salted meat and seaweed soup wafted through the lower decks. The mess hall—if one could even call it that—was little more than an open space crammed between barrels, hammocks, and poorly patched crates. The light of a few swaying lanterns cast flickering shadows on the damp wood.
A group of five sailmen sat in a rough circle on the floor, cards in hand, coins and trinkets piled at the center. They laughed loudly, cursed louder, and waved their mugs as if no storm could ever touch them.
Lewis approached, hands in his pockets, a lopsided smirk curling on his lips.
"Well well," one of the men grunted. "Look who decided to crawl outta his fancy little cabin."
"Come to lose your daddy's silver, Lewis?" another jeered, a thin sailor with crooked teeth and a short dagger tied to his ankle.
Lewis crouched and picked up a coin, letting it dance across his knuckles. "I came to win your silver, actually. Did you forget who begged to accept trinkets as payments the last time I played?"
Obviously, the [Silver Tongue] effect kicked in.
[Silver Tongue (30)
Type: Passive
Desciption:Quick with words and hard to read, Lewis can charm, bluff, or deceive when it matters most.Effect: Increases success rate in dialogue challenges, negotiations, and social manipulation
Scales with CHA]
A burst of laughter followed, and after a few seconds, a thick-shouldered man pushed a space open. "Alright then, 'Little Steel.' You're in."
As a cabin boy who grew up as the Leviathan's heir, he had naturally earned a reputation. Feared but respected, and also known for his terrifying card skills. Games were amazing. The thrill of having money on the line, well, that was even better.
Lewis was never a player in his previous life...but ever since he reincarnated, he felt the urge.
[Gambling addiction]
Like diseases, your habits could create ailments, traits that were anything but beneficial to you.
However, now that he was a man of games, he could not associate it with a real curse.
"It's...It's so fun!", he thought inwardly.
He sat. The cards were rough and bent from use, hand-painted with uneven strokes. A pirate deck. Suits were represented by swords, ships, bones, and coins. He slid in 10 copper coins. The game was Scuttlejack, a bluff-heavy mix of poker and pirate tradition, where the lowest and highest card held different meanings depending on which suit ruled the round.
Lewis's skill activated as he picked up his hand.
[Skill Activated: Sharp Card (25)]Instinctively tracks opponent patterns, subtle movements, and card behavior. +10% chance to detect bluffing. +5% chance to manipulate card hands unnoticed.
Scales with WIS and DEX]
A thin bead of sweat trickled down the brow of the sailor to his right. Lewis didn't even need to see his cards to know he was bluffing. With a cocky grin, he raised the bet by 3 copper. The sailor folded immediately.
Minutes passed. The pile grew. So did the tension.
By the end of the third round, Lewis had walked away with 27 copper and a carved bone dice someone foolishly bet.
"See you around", Lewis said, cashing in his majestic haul
Sailors were quite poor, but over time, his gambling addiction had earned him a nice little fortune, as well as a fearsome surname: "Little Silver Devil". Those who underestimated him in games of cards often left penniless.
The reason his father never questioned him? Debt created a relation of power. The more hungry for money his men were, the more fearsome they were in battle and sailing.
As he planned to get his supper, a cold hand gripped his shoulder.
Lewis' dominant hand immediately went to his waist, on which a short sword was hanging.
'Damn it, I did not even notice her', Lewis analysed as he realised his opponent was a rogue.
This was probably the active skill [Stealth], the trademark of rogues, one that grew even stronger in shadows.
The hand belonged to the one rogue on the boat: Helena Stone, quartermaster and known as the "Vixen" aboard.
Helena noticed the quick reflexes and whistled: "What do we get here? When you were younger, you spoke of becoming a knight...but what kind of knight cheats poor men of their savings?"
Lewis felt uneasy...Helena was in her mid twenties, and as one of the few women on the ship, she was just as wanted as she was feared. Many tried their luck, but none succeeded. She had been a crew member for the past ten years, first as a cook apprentice and then awakened.
"You're in trouble now," a sailor, still baffled at his losses, shouted, but Helena didn't seem interested in drama. She turned and walked away, expecting him to follow.
"Come with me", she finally said, seeing that Lewis had no intention to follow at first.
Lewis sighed, scooped his coins into his pouch, and followed the clicking of her boots up the narrow stairway and into the crew corridor. Her quarters were just beside the captain's—spacious by pirate standards, though still rough and full of weapons, maps, and strange bottles.
She closed the door behind him.
"Take a seat," she said, gesturing to a stool near a cluttered workbench. "We leave for the Hailey Road Village in a couple of days. I need to make sure you're not dead weight."
"I've killed before", Lewis said, leaning casually, "You could ask Arthur."
"I did," Helena said, opening a locked chest beneath her desk. "He said you're fast, but not ruthless. Last time, you froze and spared the men"
She lifted a small wooden tray lined with glass vials and metal-tipped darts. Inside were substances of every shade—purple, green, inky black, even a sparkling silver one that looked like liquid stars.
A blue window immediately appeared
[Poison Crafting Kit]
Quality: Common
Description: Kit to create toxic substances that can be used to coat weapons or darts.
Temporary effects: Paralysis, Bleed, Delirium, or Death.Requires: Basic Poisoncraft (not unlocked)]
Common items did not require a mage to be identified. Though the level 0 spell was costly, there was a reason. Uncommon items, magic items, or higher-tier items could not be appraised. Otherwise, appraisers would not make a fortune off adventurers' back.
"This," she said, lifting a deep green vial, "is Shiverroot extract. Causes spasms and disarms most low-level opponents in seconds."
She moved to a smaller vial with a dull pink liquid. "This one? You won't kill with it—but you'll make them hallucinate their skin is on fire."
Lewis blinked. "That's... specific."
Helena smirked. "We don't always kill our enemies. Sometimes we ruin them. Fear spreads faster than blood."
She leaned closer, her face inches from his. Her voice dropped. "Your father's men fear you. I want to see if they respect you."
Lewis met her gaze, unflinching. "I plan to show them."
A flicker of approval crossed her eyes.
"Good," she said, handing him a small pouch of black powder and a glass dart. "Coat your blade with this just before the raid. It'll only last five minutes after exposure to air. Don't waste it."
He pocketed the items.
"Thanks", he said before taking his leave.
So this was the life of a pirate. Sailing on the day, cards on the evenings, and...more importantly, freedom. Others were forced to work.
Him? Not so much. Sure, he would help when there was a tempest. But often, he would just hang around the big shots. Arthur taught him swordsmanship, his father taught him leadership and Helena? She was a thief, a terrifying woman who taught him to kill.
From his memories, he could tell it was not the first time she gave him poisons.
As the heir, he obviously had a lot of influence on this ship. After all, being a pirate was not so bad.