Bab 15: 0015 You owe an apology.
If anything, black smoke filled the center barn.
In the middle of the black smoke, the leader attacked and Lorraine defended. A scimitar in the hands of the leader was tigerish, each blade was powerful.
Medaka!
Lorraine blocked a chop from the leader, pursed her lips, and staggered back three steps in a row.
The leader caught up and raised his sword for another slash.
Lorraine side-stepped to avoid it and spun around.
He held his shoulder against the leader's body, swung around behind him, raised his arm and raised his hand, and the scimitar flew!
With a poof, the blade accurately stabbed the bystander's hitman, penetrating his chest and going straight into the hilt.
The hitman looked incredulously at the blood soaring from his chest and slowly, slowly fell to his knees.
"You seek death!"
In the midst of the entanglement, he was actually sneak attacked and won by Lorraine, the leader was furious.
He took advantage of Lorraine's moment to return his breath to backhand grab over, grabbing Lorraine's shirt, swinging the knife, and slashing horizontally!
Barehanded, Lorraine crashed short into the leader's arms and pounded a heavy fist into the diaphragm between his chest and stomach.
Boo!
The leader sucked in a big breath of cold air in pain and forced himself to draw his knife back, who knew that Lorraine had violently straightened up again and hit him right in the jaw with the top of his head.
Another loud bang!
This was a double whammy, and Lorraine's brain drilled into her head as the leader's eyes went black.
The two stumbled backward in unison, withdrawing two steps and a piece of foot, simultaneously stomping the other's chest.
Boom-boom!
Lorraine was kicked straight out and rolled three times on the ground.
The wound split open completely, and pools of blood soaked through his chest and back, almost staining his shirt with blood.
But he still held his breath strongly, not saying a word, even though he had lost air in his lungs long after the blow.
The leader was breathing heavily at the other end.
Sharp pains in chest and abdomen, sharp pains in jaw.
He suspected that one of his ribs had been hammered out by the punch he'd just thrown, his teeth had been knocked loose, and half of his face was completely insensitive, and he didn't know if his jaw was broken or not.
"Difficult ... difficult boy!"
He squeezed out a few words through clenched teeth and watched as the bloodied Lorraine rose again as if he couldn't fight, shaking as he drew his bayonet from the dead battering ram and swung his arm to shake off the beads of blood.
The chief suddenly noticed Lorraine's somewhat unusual nose.
There is a small wooden clip right in the middle of the two nostrils, with a cotton cloth wrapped around the tip, just the right size to plug the nostrils.
Why are you plugging your nose?
The leader subconsciously tried to ask before he took a breath and felt a wave of dizziness.
"It's in the smoke. ..."
Lorraine started in silence.
One step out, two steps into a leap, he stopped sharply with a bow in his bare eyes, his wrist pressed down, his blade up, and he stabbed!
The slender blade of the sword surged forward with its head like a spirit snake, not too fast, and headed straight for the heart.
The leader was scared out of his wits and took a few steps back, crossing his sword to defend himself.
The bayonet immediately deflected up, sizzling with a long sound as it grazed a trail of sparks on the broad blade, and Lorraine took another large step out with a standard lunge jab that pierced through the leader's right shoulder with a plop, piercing through his shoulder blade in a single bound.
A momentary stare down, victory or defeat.
Lorraine shook her hand and drew her bayonet, sidestepped the splattered plasma, spun behind the leader with the momentum, swung her raised bayonet downward, and casually slashed the knee socket of the leader's right leg.
It was then that the leader howled out in misery, his long sword coming off his hand and falling to one knee.
"You ... won ..."
Lorraine stood with her head down, the tip of her sword pressed against the back of the leader's heart, and took her first breath of air that smelled of char.
"You have one chance to live now. Tell me where the captain is."
The leader laughed hideously, "You think I'll believe you?"
"No."
Psst!
The leader collapsed limply as the thrusting sword penetrated his chest.
Lorraine gasped openly, covering her chest and struggling to take steps until she struggled to the back barn and slammed the door with a bang.
At the other end of the back barn, Hina was playing with her knife, blocking the door, covered in blood.
Behind her lay four twitching corpses, and before her stood two well-dressed gentlemen, one fat, one thin.
"Mr. Life ... Thomas, the crew of the Attic Beauty, Lorraine. Drake sends his regards." Lorraine smiled weakly, "What? Aren't you going to introduce me to Mr. ... Barry beside you?"
...
Barry Sr.'s room was located to the right of the rear barn and was the office of the original dock manager.
The dividing wall divides the warehouse into three, with Old Barry occupying a single point, for a total of two floors, one above and one below.
All the living are at the top.
In old Barry's bedroom, the two gentlemen were tied together, back to back, by flourish-like knots of sailors.
Lorraine's skill was second to none among sailors, and the knots were not tied so tightly as to wrinkle her clothes, nor so loosely as to wrongly give the illusion and leeway to break free.
Lorraine dragged a chair to the end of the bed and crossed her legs, playing with her lost and found command sword.
Hina is treating his wounds.
She carefully removed his shirt, unwrapped the bandage, washed away the blood, applied medicine, and put on a new bandage that was clean and dry.
The coolness of the sensation made Lorraine breathe a long sigh of relief, the slight intoxication of a small amount of inhaled Mandalorian smoke further disorienting the pain and bringing him a comfort he hadn't felt in a long time.
He shook his head slightly.
Mr. Thomas and old Barry, who had been watching Lorraine, perked up at the same time and said in unison, "As gentlemen, Mr. Drake, we demand decent treatment and the right to redeem our freedom."
"This can be talked about slowly." Tightening the bandage, Lorraine nodded her thanks to Haina, "I'm more interested in a few topics, like where is my captain?"
Old Barry's face showed a struggle, "The Water Dungeon ..."
"Where is the water cell?"
"The basement." Old Barry gritted his teeth, "Go out of the room, there are rows of filing cabinets directly opposite, push them open and you will see the entrance to the basement."
"A good start."
Lorraine smiled and winked at Hina, who understood and turned to go out the door.
Lorraine crossed her fingers, "Mr. Barry, is this really where you work and live?"
"The safe ... is in a desk drawer. The drawer door is false and you can unload it."
"It's been a pleasure chatting with you." Lorraine stood up and clicked off the face of the drawer, revealing the fine iron safe inside, "What's the combination?"
"4159 ..."
The harvest was rich.
In the iron cabinet, Lorraine found four bundles of gold pounds tied with leather straps, each bundle of one hundred pounds.
In addition to this, there was the deed to the house and land of No. 3 Water Barn, and two IOUs in the denominations of sixty and eighty pounds.
The rest were all nautical items, including Lorraine's logbook, a license for privateering, the deeds to the Atis Beauty and the small fishing boat, and three charts.
The three charts cover the entire western European offshore, one is Lorraine's Military Information Improved Channel Chart, and the other two are both published by the Royal Maritime Bureau of France, the most detailed hand-drawn version of the North Sea and Cantabrian Seas in the civilian category.
Combined with Lorraine's earlier discovery that spices belonging to Old Barry were lying neatly in the bilge of the Atis Beauty, Lorraine guessed that Old Barry intended to enter the sea merchant world.
He lost his smile and drew his privateer's license and held it up in front of old Barry, "Mr. Barry, do you recognize it?"
"It is priceless!" Old Barry grimaced, "In the last hundred years, the maritime powers of Europe have stopped issuing licenses for privateering out of the country. A license from the Kingdom of Britain could be exchanged for a thousand pounds in the hands of any pirate if it got out!"
"A thousand pounds ... you are a cunning merchant, but not discerning enough." Lorraine gathered up the valuable objects and said slowly, "Francis. Drake is the founder of the Drake hereditary baronial family, the first Lord Drake."
"As a pirate, he scorched the French, Dutch, and Spanish in the New World; and after becoming a marine, he led the weaker Royal Navy to defeat Spain's invincible fleet. He also completed a circumnavigation of the globe, and the Drake Passage was the beginning of the decline of Spain and Portugal."
"This instrument started the legend of it all." Lorraine tapped the framing of the privateering certificate and smiled disdainfully, "If you send it to the Drake's in Tavistock, it's worth five thousand pounds; if you hand it over to any collector in England, ten thousand pounds, twenty thousand pounds, give or take."
"Twenty thousand pounds!" Old Barry and Mr. Thomas winced in unison, "Your name is also Drake, and this instrument must be yours. If so, why ..."
"What is it you wish to ask? Why would a descendant of an honorable nobleman run away to work as a seaman on a small ship? Or why I didn't sell it?"
Old Barry gulped, "Both."
Lorraine casually stuffed the privateer's license into her bag, "There's a saying in the East that a swallowed sparrow knows the will of a great swan. Even if I say it clearly, it's a pity that you can't understand it."
Old Barry sighed dismally, "Mr. Drake, I've handed over everything, we're even. Twenty thousand pounds of property is more than enough to atone for your sins."
Lorraine was just about to reply when Hina pushed her way in with a creak and shook her head slightly at Lorraine.
Lorraine's face clouded over for a moment.
"You killed him?"
A flicker of panic flashed in old Barry's eyes.
"I found the privateer's license on your ship ... I thought he could give more ... I asked him for it, and he wouldn't give it, always saying he was a leatherneck on his first voyage... ...It was ... he who forced me to use torture! I no matter how much I tortured him he wouldn't say anything, even the whip broke two ... Mr. Drake! Mr. Drake? Drake goo goo goo ..."
Old Barry convulsed violently.
Lorraine clutched his hair, forcing him to hold his head high, and with her command knife, she sliced his throat bit by bit.
Blood gushed from the massive wound, not splashing, but soaking through his clothes and soaking the sheets like a waterfall.
His eyes began to lax, and his mouth continued to open and close subconsciously, spewing out more blood and splattering Lorraine all over.
Lorraine narrowed her eyes and tossed him away, letting him drape over Mr. Thomas' back and twitch.
Thomas was sitting upright, his expression grave.
"I can understand your feelings." He tried to be majestic, tried to be calm, "You are well educated and should know that I am not responsible in this matter, nor should I be implicated."
"I know." Lorraine dragged her sword around the bed, "You simply sold Pitt's mortgage to the right person. And now that old Barry is dead, and the Pitts are Hansa's white slaves, you might be prepared to offer the right ransom to buy back your freedom, from me."
"Yes." Mr. Thomas perked up, "I think a thousand pounds would be a suitable price. With a letter, and without the dawn of day, you could go far away with that sum."
"A thousand pounds ... you are a generous man."
Slowly and methodically, Lorraine set her sword on Mr. Thomas's tuxedo and gently wiped the stained blood off of it.
He said softly, "As a matter of fact, you don't owe me anything, and you are sincere, so according to what I have been taught since I was a child, I should say yes."
"However ... I'm a little more educated and a little more mixed."
"You have to pour out an apology for doing something wrong ..." he took a breath, "You owe the Captain an apology. If you want to tell him to his face, you'll have to go down ..."
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Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone