"Gold can talk?"
When Hugo heard the question, his pulse quickened with a cold, sharp rhythm. It's here. It finally arrived.
He had suspected it from the moment they pried open the first iron-bound chest on the Santa Trinidad. With Barbossa's predatory greed, there was no chance the Captain hadn't skimmed the cream of the crop before the official split. And in that hoard, hidden among the Spanish silver and the emerald scepters, lay the seeds of a nightmare Hugo knew all too well.
Hugo kept his face a mask of polite, slightly concerned confusion. "Captain, I think the sun and the rum have conspired against your wits. How can gold speak? It's cold metal. It has no mouth, no breath."
"No! It does! It does, I tell ye!" Barbossa's composure shattered like thin glass. He lunged forward, his jeweled fingers digging into Hugo's shoulders with a strength born of pure, unadulterated terror.
"I can hear it! Every night, the moment the sun slips below the yardarm, the whispers start! It talks to me in the dark, Hugo... a hundred voices, all of 'em dry as bone, tellin' me... tellin' me I have to give it back!"
His voice had dropped to a ragged, frantic hiss. His eyes were bloodshot, the pupils dilated until they swallowed the iris. He looked less like a wealthy captain and more like a condemned man waiting for the drop.
Gibbs and Billy, who had been standing a few paces away, looked at each other with visible unease.
"Captain," Gibbs said softly, his hand resting tentatively on his belt. "Perhaps you've caught the swamp-fever. Tortuga's air is thick with rot this time of year. Let's get you a physician, or at least a fresh cask of water."
"I'm not sick! You don't understand! None of ye understand!" Barbossa shoved Gibbs aside with a snarl, his focus snapping back to Hugo. He looked at the young man as if he were a priest and Hugo was the only one who could grant him absolution.
"Hugo... you're the one. You know things. You knew where the Trinidad sat when the world said she was a ghost. You knew the way through the Razor when the sea was tryin' to eat us. You must know the secret of this gold! Tell me you know!"
Hugo looked at the man's twisted, desperate face. He felt no pity, only a cold, calculating sense of opportunity. Greed has a price, Hector. And it looks like you've finally received the bill.
"Captain, calm yourself," Hugo said, his voice as steady as a heavy anchor. "If there is a curse, we must see the heart of it. What piece of gold is causing this? Show it to me."
Barbossa hesitated. He looked around the shipyard, his gaze darting toward the shadows behind the crates as if he expected a Spanish boarding party to materialize from the mud. The coin was his torment, but it was also his most precious possession. The curse made him possessive even as it destroyed him.
Finally, the fear of the whispers outweighed his greed. Barbossa gestured for them to follow him back to the Great Cabin of the Sea Serpent. He dismissed the guards, locked the heavy oak door, and drew the velvet curtains until the room was shrouded in a heavy, artificial twilight.
With trembling hands, he reached into his innermost waistcoat pocket and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in layers of silk. As he unwrapped it, a dull, metallic light seemed to bleed through the fabric.
When the silk finally fell away, a single, ancient gold coin sat in Barbossa's palm. It bore the unmistakable, grinning skull of an Aztec deity, surrounded by jagged, sun-like rays. It looked crude, primitive, and utterly out of place among the refined Spanish coinage.
The moment the coin was revealed, the temperature in the cabin seemed to plummet. A heavy, cloying aura of ancient rot and salt-cracked stone filled the air. Gibbs and Billy instinctively recoiled, their hair standing on end.
Hugo, however, was staring at the blue interface that had just erupted in his vision. A bright, pulsing crimson alert was flashing with a violent intensity.
[WARNING! HIGH-ENERGY RELIC DETECTED!]
[Item Identified: Cursed Aztec Gold (Fragment 1 of 882).]
[Classification: Ancient Era Relic / System Key.]
[Effect: The holder is granted "Stagnant Immortality." Physical death is bypassed, but the body will reveal its skeletal nature under moonlight. Senses are dulled, food tastes like ash, and drink offers no thirst-quenching relief. The holder is psychically tethered to the Chest of Cortez.]
[SYSTEM PROMPT: This item is a CRITICAL COMPONENT for Technological Advancement.]
[Requirement: Collect and sacrifice Relic Fragments to advance from "Ancient Era" to "Medieval Era" (Age of the Galleon).]
Hugo's heart skipped a beat. The Medieval Era. He had been wondering how he would ever bridge the gap from a single-masted sloop to the multi-decked warships of the high 18th century. The System hadn't told him that the "magic" of this world was the fuel for his technology. If he could gather these coins, he wouldn't just be repairing ships, he'd be unlocking the blueprints for the Ship-of-the-Line. He'd have the range, the firepower, and the structural integrity to dominate every navy on the planet.
The euphoria was almost overwhelming. He looked at Barbossa, who was clutching the coin to his chest like a frightened child, and saw not a rival, but a delivery man.
Hugo reached out, his fingers inching toward the coin. "Let me feel the weight of it, Hector."
"Don't touch it!" Barbossa shrieked, snatching the coin back and baring his teeth. "It's mine! My prize! My burden! You'll not have it, lad! Not you, not anyone!"
The madness was already deep. Barbossa was caught in the paradox of the curse, he hated the coin, but he would kill anyone who tried to take it from him. Hugo realized that he couldn't just steal the relic. He had to play the long game. He had to be the one who "saved" Barbossa from the curse while the System "consumed" the fragments.
Hugo leaned back, the golden interface fading into the background of his vision. He allowed a profound, knowing smile to cross his face.
"I know that pattern, Hector," Hugo said, his voice dropping to a low, authoritative rumble. "The skull, the sun... it belongs to the Chest of Cortez. It's an Aztec blood-debt. The voices you hear? They aren't in your head. They're the spirits of the men who died for that gold, calling it home."
Barbossa's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "You know it? You know the name? The Chest... tell me, Hugo! Tell me how to make them stop!"
"The curse can be broken," Hugo said, each word measured and heavy. "But not by throwing the coin in the harbor. You have to return it to where it was taken, and the debt must be paid in blood. Only then will the gold fall silent."
Barbossa fell to his knees, the jeweled rings on his fingers clattering against the deck. "Return it... aye, I'll return it! I'll give it all back if it means I can taste my rum again! Tell me where, Hugo! Lead me to this Chest, and I'll give you the world!"
Hugo looked down at the broken Captain. He had the location of Isla de Muerta in the archives of his mind, and he had the "Medieval Era" waiting at the end of the road.
"I can lead you there, Hector," Hugo whispered. "But the road to Isla de Muerta is paved with more than just gold. Are you prepared to pay the price?"
"Anything!" Barbossa choked out. "Just make the whispering stop!"
Hugo looked out the cabin window toward the shipyard, where The Explorer sat waiting. He had his leverage, he had his target, and now, he had the key to a new age of sail.