Extra Episode 4.

Ro wore a disgruntled expression but diligently swept the glass vials and spells into her bag. The witch gave a few warnings about precautions when using magic, then grinned, revealing her few remaining teeth.

“Since the payment was a bit excessive, I’ll throw in a glimpse of your fate as a bonus.”

“Fate?”

“Hand over the card you picked up.”

I picked up a card? Ro followed Calypso’s gaze down to her own hand and froze. There, neatly tucked between her fingers, was indeed a card. Since when had she been holding this? Now that she thought about it, she might have absentmindedly grabbed something when she first sat at the table.

Rosetta reluctantly handed the card to Calypso.

“So this is my fate? I just grabbed it without thinking.”

“Fate, by nature, dwells in things you pick up ‘without thinking.’”

Her sour question received a reply that was quite befitting of a witch. Ro chuckled faintly and propped her chin on her hand. Anyway, no matter how dramatically Calypso spoke, the fate she predicted was always trivial—things like getting bitten by bugs, rain coming, or simply noticing a mildly unlucky day. Ro expected Calypso would soon rattle off some mundane prophecy.

“…….”

“…….”

But the witch’s silence lasted far longer than Ro anticipated. Perhaps even longer than Calypso herself expected. Eventually, growing impatient, Ro urged her.

“Well? What is it? What kind of grand fate needs so much buildup?”

“……Hmm.”

“Is it good? Or bad?”

“I can’t say. But one thing is clearly visible to Calypso.”

Slowly parting her lips, Calypso burst into loud laughter.

“A connection. And a particularly severe one at that—you’ll soon meet someone with whom you share a fated bond.”

* * *

The effect of the curse Calypso created manifested immediately after Ro gulped down that nauseating potion. Ro examined her reflection in a tarnished brass spoon from various angles.

Freckles on both cheeks, a low, flat nose, and a broad forehead. No matter how generously one looked, her appearance was plain; put harshly, even slightly unattractive. Ro was satisfied. The prettier she looked, the easier it would be for her to linger in others’ memories.

The problem was that the side effect Calypso mentioned had manifested in an extremely bothersome way.

“Damn, this is so damn bulky.”

Muttering a curse, Ro twisted her long hair, which now hung down to her waist, into a tight coil and shoved it under her cap. It would’ve been better if she could just cut it short as usual, but thanks to the bizarre side effect, the moment she cut it, it immediately grew back.

At first, she nearly fell backward, convinced she’d been possessed by a ghost.

Ro pulled up her clothes roughly and stepped out of the alley where torn sails, wooden barrels, and rotting ropes were piled in layers.

This shabby port, located about five hours by carriage from Siclide, was a place swarming with all the sloops that lacked official operating permits. When surveillance was strict, the navy sometimes raided the place, but the merchant guild master running the dock seemed to skillfully smooth things over with the right amount of money and connections.

Of course, the funds needed for operations were made up by gouging exorbitant prices from the scoundrels using this place.

As a result, disputes over docking fees were a common sight everywhere.

“Fifteen sol.”

“What are you talking about all of a sudden? Last week it was ten sol. Don’t do this.”

“Ah, we understand your situation well enough. We know full well that ships couldn’t sail recently due to the typhoon. Do you think we’re doing this because we want to? Suddenly inspections have gotten stricter, and to smooth that over, we need to pay bribes four or five times the usual amount.”

Even during the short time Ro passed through the dock, she overheard similar conversations all around. It seemed inspections had intensified due to the disappearance of Montrosa’s fool. The atmosphere would likely remain tense for a while.

“Identification, and the money.”

As Ro stood before an old sloop docked at the far end of the pier, a dock attendant suddenly popped out. She presented a proxy authorization signed by the ‘Red Dawn,’ then placed fifteen sol on the scale. The attendant glanced briefly at Ro’s face and added,

“It’s none of my business, but I’d recommend you avoid the Gicleb side. Navy’s been swarming there these past few days.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

“What a shame for a young thing like you to have to turn to piracy just to survive…”

As the attendant clucked her tongue, Ro merely gave a faint smirk. She thought the kindness was out of place—apparently, shrinking in stature made her look like a very young child. The attendant glanced around, then quietly slipped a five-sol copper coin back into Ro’s pocket before quickly walking away. Ro shrugged. Free money.

“Up we go.”

Ro hoisted a bundle of rope and a leather bag onto the deck and pulled aside the tarp covering the boat. The cutter, suitable for two and sinking-perfect for five, was as poorly maintained as its shabby exterior suggested. She clicked her tongue. Nick, you idiot. No matter how urgent it was, how could you rent such a piece of junk?

The only lucky thing was the storage compartment beneath the aft deck, which could double as a hiding place. The sails were somewhat worn but usable, and there didn’t seem to be any leaks or torn sections needing immediate repair. After circling the boat, Ro opened the leather bag she’d brought and checked carefully for any missing items.

Ten days’ worth of dried rations and a cutlass, two flintlock pistols and one small dagger, flint, bandages, a bottle of strong rum, sufficient gunpowder, and a bundle of limes… The rations were prepared for two people, so assuming one person ate, it would last twenty days comfortably. After meticulously confirming the planks and a handful of brass nails she’d pre-ordered, her departure preparations were complete.

Hoisting the anchor and untying the ropes that firmly tethered the boat to the port, the vessel slowly began to move. Ro skillfully took the helm and adjusted the sails into a fixed position. The faster she moved away from the port, the more speed she gained.

Holding the helm, Ro checked the compass. A sudden strong gust snatched her cap away, and her long hidden hair fluttered upward like dawn across the sky.

The direction was southeast. Southeast.

* * *

After using up one of the two bottles of east wind she’d received from Calypso, Ro arrived at Bruges Bay a day earlier than expected. This ‘bay,’ located just before entering the Shale Islands, wasn’t actually a mainland bay but a massive island shaped like a crescent moon. Most travelers heading south docked here to repair their vessels and resupply.

Ro gently anchored her boat on the fine sandy shore. Before disembarking, she gathered her red hair into a single knot and carefully wrapped a headscarf around it. She then pulled up her hood, hiding herself thoroughly in two layers. In Bruges Bay, teeming with pirates under Kyrgos’s command, even a glimpse of bright red hair could trigger associations with the ‘Red Dawn.’

She deliberately quarreled with the dock attendant over the docking fee. In a crowd of riffraff, someone who casually paid an expensive fee stood out more than necessary. Of course, she didn’t forget to quietly slip half of the haggled savings into the attendant’s pocket with a, “Go have a drink.”

“Oh dear, why give me this again…”

“We’re just being friendly. Keep a better eye on my boat, that’s all. By the way, isn’t there more people here than last time?”

“These days it’s packed, I’m telling you.”

“Did someone catch a big break?”

“Who knows. These folks have been acting strange for days now. Ah, are you Turner by any chance?”

‘Turner’ was the codename used when she contacted the Net through an information broker. Caught off guard by the sudden mention, Ro flinched momentarily but merely nodded without showing it.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“There was a message for you. Just a moment.”

The attendant disappeared into a shabby log cabin and soon returned holding a letter. On the corner of the envelope, a faint seal was barely visible—the mark of the Net. Ro tore open the edge of the envelope and checked the message. It was simple:

-Go to the Third Inn. The first words.

Ro neatly folded the letter and tucked it into her clothes, then asked,

“How did you know it was me?”

“They said to tell them when a woman as tall as a man shows up.”

Ah, that made sense. Ro shrugged. Perhaps because she’d slipped a few coins, the attendant kindly added,

“If you’re heading to the village, go down that path over there.”

“Thanks.”

Ro waved casually and followed the path the attendant indicated. Though Bruges Bay belonged to Kyrgos’s territory, it was near the border, so Rosetta had visited only a handful of times.

And now, the Third Inn? Counting from the path leading from the dock? Or from after passing the village gate? She thought she’d fallen for some nasty wordplay right from the start, but the misunderstanding quickly cleared up.

“The actual name of the inn really is Third…”

Ro laughed bitterly. Despite its shabby exterior, it seemed fairly busy. Loud, boisterous laughter echoed all the way onto the streets. The moment Ro opened the door and stepped in, the innkeeper immediately spoke up.

“How many nights?”

“One week.”

“One sol per night, breakfast and dinner included. A damp cloth warmed with hot water is two cells. You can pay daily in the morning, or all at once upfront.”

Like island prices everywhere, they’re ripping me off royally. Ro obediently placed two five-sol coins on the counter. The innkeeper grinned and wiped his hands on a dirty rag.

“A big spender at last. Dinner? If you haven’t eaten, I can serve it now.”

“Good. Ah, but wait.”

Just as the innkeeper was about to take the money, Ro spread her palm, covering the coins she’d placed.

“You seem to have some information for me.”