### Chapter Thirty: Mr. J
Creak… Creak…
A pair of black, hard-soled boots stomped on the old wooden planks of the ship’s cabin, producing a sound that could make one’s teeth ache.
The cabin wasn’t large, but there were several people standing around, subtly hidden in the shadows. The flickering lantern swung with the swaying ship, casting mere flickers of light around, revealing several faces that were mostly swallowed by the darkness.
Creak… Creak…
In the center of the cabin, a man dressed in a red tuxedo paced back and forth, chewing on his nails and mumbling to himself, though what he was saying was utterly incomprehensible. His strange demeanor made it hard to look away. Not far in front of him knelt three bl**d-soaked individuals, hands and feet bound, heads bowed, trembling and quaking as if they were holding back the pain, unable to even let out a quiet groan—one of them was still dripping bl**d from his mouth.
Drip, drip.
The sound of bl**d falling on the planks was painfully clear.
After a moment, the man abruptly halted, swept his shoulder-length red hair back, and turned to face the kneeling figures, raising a finger to his lips, a sickly smile creeping onto his pale face.
“Ding~ Time’s up,” he said.
The moment his words fell, the three of them jolted as if struck by lightning, and the young man in the middle hurriedly lifted his head, “Mr. J—”
“Shh! Shh shh…”
The man named Mr. J slowly pressed his raised index finger to his lips, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as he tilted his head to one side, signaling for silence. He stepped forward, crouched down in front of the man who had spoken, and reached out, petting the top of the man’s head and the back of his neck.
He laughed with glee: “Don’t say unnecessary things; I hate wasting time… But look at me, I’m actually a generous person who likes to give chances. So, I’ve given you a chance… Now, have you made your decision on who will take care of this thing? You need to learn to give yourselves a chance; I only need one person.”
Mr. J wasn’t particularly muscular; in fact, he was a bit skinny. But as he ruffled the hair of the burly fellow who clearly had a much larger head, it was as if he was petting a child. His eyes even shone with a hint of tenderness, despite the bl**d smeared all over the man’s face.
“J, Mr. J, I…”
The burly man he was patting, however, was filled with terror, his pupils dilated, fearing to meet the gaze of the person he called Mr. J, as if the being crouching in front of him was not human, but rather a bloodthirsty monster.
“I said, don’t say unnecessary things.”
Mr. J vigorously ruffled the man’s hair a few more times, then stood up, shaking off the bloodstains on his hands, and with a hint of excitement, walked over to the side.
“Here’s the deal: you came to me voluntarily, I welcomed you, gave you food, provided you with knives and swords, treated you like human beings. But unfortunately, you deceived me—it turns out you didn’t see me as a human… Ah ha! Sneaking messages to the Church behind my back, do you have any idea how much I despise being deceived? You’re a bunch of bad people! I was going to k*ll you all, but I’m a reasonable guy, so I’ll give you a chance to live…”
Mr. J continued to ramble on, subtly tilting his head towards the few people standing beside him. Then someone stepped forward and used a small kn*fe to cut the ropes binding the three of them, before handing the kn*fe to the burly man in the middle.
The man froze and hesitated to take it.
The wind and waves outside seemed quite fierce, mixing in with the chaotic shouts, and the sound of creaking wood echoed everywhere. The ship rocked violently, and Mr. J stumbled slightly, reaching out to steady himself against a nearby pillar, his mouth corner twitching nervously—he seemed to be laughing again, but the malice and madness in his eyes suddenly calmed.
“You deceived me, but I’m a tolerant person, I understand your struggles… You’re Church Knights, right? Lying is a disgrace for you, a contradiction to your knightly spirit. You wouldn’t want to do that, but you had no other choice… I understand, truly, but you also need to understand me. I can let someone live—only one person… No matter what, you’ve all deceived me, but I fed you. So now, you… you, and you.”
Pointing at each of the three, Mr. J’s smile suddenly grew wider, stretching his mouth in a grotesque and exaggerated manner, his face taking on a scary expression almost ghostly in the flickering candlelight.
“Only one of you will… have the chance to repay me. You certainly have to repay me, I’m giving you this opportunity now… Oh, that one over there, pick up the kn*fe, kn*fe… Yes, pick it up… And what about the others’ knives? Hey, get something longer for them, something that can chop off a head… Now, where was I?”
He scratched his head with his pinky, furrowing his brows in thought, while someone handed knives to the three who were still kneeling. They were pulled up roughly, the jarring movement clearly aggravating their injuries, causing the man to cry out in pain, but he didn’t dare resist, trembling as they stood in the cabin, holding tightly to their knives, bl**d and sweat mingling dripping from their faces, and the others who had handed them the knives had retreated far away, leaving a small space around them.
“Right, the opportunity!”
Suddenly, Mr. J clapped his hands, continuing, “I’m giving you this opportunity now. Who among you can live to go back will be decided by you. I’ll find a nearby coast and throw him overboard… Thud! It might hurt a little, but he definitely won’t d*e.”
He shrugged.
“Then, go find those scummy knights at Mosri Coast and tell them that the Gate of Truth is something you grab and run with. We’re about to retreat, so they should come to the sea and stop us… Got it? You’re used to deceiving, so you won’t let those old-fashioned knights figure it out…”
“Jester—!!!”
Suddenly, the smallest of the three shouted loudly, raising the kn*fe and rushing towards Mr. J, her angry voice sounding rather fabulous; she was actually a woman.
The woman moved quickly, and before anyone could react, the kn*fe plunged into Mr. J’s chest—he didn’t even flinch, he didn’t try to dodge.
Thwump!
“Uh hahahahaha—”
The bl**d-red blade pierced through Mr. J’s tuxedo and came out the back. Even before any bl**d could flow out, his frenzied laughter filled the cabin.
He opened his arms and embraced the woman, ignoring her struggles as he pulled her tightly into his chest.
“You’re a fine miss… Sorry, sorry, treating a lady like this is terribly rude, ha ha…”
Mr. J buried his face in the woman’s neck, intoxicated as he inhaled deeply.
“Now, let me see your face…”
“Let me go!”
“Stay still…”
“Dammit… Jester—!”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
The woman’s struggles seemed pointless in front of Mr. J, like a chick caught by the neck, utterly ineffective. He tilted her head so she had to look at him, sweeping aside her somewhat dirty hair, revealing a bl**d-stained yet still decent-looking face.
“Not bad, you’re not bad! Ah hahahaha—”
“Here I vow… May the Deity unleash the harshest punishment upon the villains…”
The woman glared furiously into his chaotic and deep eyes, grinding her teeth as she spoke.
Knowing she was surely doomed, she became more determined, twisting the kn*fe’s handle desperately, trying to harm the madman one last time before d*ath. She watched bl**d flow from the corners of his mouth, but the next moment, his face drew closer.
Mr. J kissed her lips.
“Mm, mmm!”
The woman’s eyes widened in shock, desperately struggling, but two seconds later, her hand slowly dropped.
Mr. J’s eyes gleamed with a scarlet light.
He greedily gulped, the candlelight hazy; dark red liquid flowed from the woman’s mouth, gushing into his, the red glow in his eyes igniting brighter as the lifeless form in his arms quickly shriveled, then her body—Mr. J released his grip.
Thud.
The woman’s corpse, resembling a dried-up skeleton, thudded noisily onto the wooden planks like a pile of goo.
Mr. J flipped the kn*fe that was lodged in his chest around, the bl**d splattering onto the floor and hissing as it evaporated, the red light in Mr. J’s chest circulating quickly, flesh swiftly growing back and healing the wound.
He looked down, then sighed.
“This tuxedo is one I really liked…”
Even as he said this, his expression showed no concern. He kicked the corpse aside, smacked his lips, and turned back to the remaining two—who had already started fighting.
Fear had stripped them of honor and rationality as they lunged at their former comrades with their sharp knives.
“Ah—”
Clang!
Blades clashed, sending sparks flying.
Mr. J merely watched for a moment, then lost all interest.
He pulled out a handkerchief from his chest pocket, wiped his mouth and hands, tossed the handkerchief onto the corpse’s face, and waved at the others, then turned and pushed open the cabin door.
Outside was an unquenchable sea of flaming chaos.
On the horizon, countless sailing ships, adorned with golden cross banners, were consumed by scarlet flames, disintegrating and sinking off in the distance, the inferno spitting dozens of meters high flames that nearly lit up the entire night sky.
The scorching wind and waves crashed against his face as Mr. J slowly climbed onto the deck, suddenly looking down and retching.
“d*mn, I hate being on a ship…”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. After taking a few more steps, someone approached him to report: “The Church has burned all of the ships attempting to intercept Deacon Pier.”
Mr. J nodded and asked, “Where’s Old Pier?”
“Burned the ship; he found his way over himself, he’ll be here shortly.”
“Oh? So the Church still hasn’t caught Old Pier? Ah ha! A bunch of incompetent fools… Could it be that we have someone mixed in among them?”
He muttered to himself, then chuckled: “What about the Tear of the Goddess? Do you see it?”
“With Old Pier, sir.”
“Oh~”
Mr. J nodded somewhat nervously, patting the man’s right shoulder. His facial muscles slowly stretched into a forced grin that was frighteningly awkward: “Old Pier is a hero of the Holy Church; Ailna should give him a medal. I’m serious… I truly admire him. But, you know, the fate of heroes often leads to them dying for greatness, and it’s precisely because they d*e that they’re called heroes; don’t you think?”
The man bowed his head, saying nothing.
Buzz—
Suddenly, a golden light wondrously broke through the distant sky, the miraculous thunder surged forward with a booming sound, rushing past the masts. Mr. J jumped back, hunching his shoulders instinctively and squinting his eyes as he looked over at the commotion: “Who is that? How can they make such a big scene…”
“Mr. J, there’s an Archbishop among the Church’s ranks.”
“An Archbishop? What Archbishop? There isn’t an Archbishop of this magnitude…”
Mr. J stood casually on the deck, his entire being loose and relaxed, almost weightless. He bit his fingers as he muttered to himself before waving his arm and laughing, “Whoever it is, just k*ll them.”
The fierce sea wind swept through, waving flags in a frenzy.
A moment later, someone handed Mr. J a cane. He accepted it, leaning on it as he walked to the bow of the ship, gazing into the miraculous light that appeared as bright as day, and suddenly flames surged beneath his feet, launching him into the fiery night sky.
The night sky was as beautiful as that of the Royal City.
