Xiao Long held his breath, realizing he had greatly underestimated the intensity of the Continent Martial Arts Competition. Ending the legend of the Sword King was not as simple as it seemed; one couldn't challenge him without showing some real skill.

Formed from hundreds of twisted weapons, the spiked Special Large Sword held together by magnetic force crackled with electricity. Clement, wielding this exaggerated weapon, appeared as a muscular illusionary beast—an ancient creature, truly a demon among demons.

Xiao Long closed his eyes.

He had found it, the rift in all things.

On the other side.

At the temporary camp by the river oasis outside Drifting City.

The Black Sail crew preferred to call it a campfire chat, but in truth, it was just gambling.

Archer, using spare cookware, casually made some side dishes to go with drinks, feeling too lazy to make an effort. "Given my status, I'll just whip up something to go with drinks. If they want a feast, they can go to a restaurant."

"Who won?"

After the food was served, Archer sat down. He couldn't tell who was stronger; after yesterday's bloody fourth round, he was still groggy from drink.

"Hard to say, Xiao Long was beaten into a fool."

Rein grinned, with forty gold dragons in the pot, winner takes all. Morrison might be in big trouble.

Listening to the broadcast on the radio.

Archer suddenly had a realization.

"Wait, this is the Continent Martial Arts Competition? Oh, it's already September 2688? Time flies so fast?"

Archer was shocked, not realizing he'd been on the ship for over half a year, feeling like only two or three weeks had passed. Liszt was indeed impressive, turning a lousy pirate gang into something big so quickly, justifying the Oath of Loyalty he made.

"Bro, it's already the 16th session, in the year 2690."

Liszt didn't think Archer was worthy of enjoying the vast dividends of East Sea International; he'd just waste it on booze or explode with gold coins.

He had to find a way to lock Old Man up, perhaps sending him to a mental hospital for study would be a good idea.

Taking a swig of wine, he munched on some fried meat made by Archer—Court Chefs surely had some skills.

Archer wasn't unintelligent; he just lived in a perpetual state of confusion, often appearing even more dimwitted than Weber.

Selling him to a mental hospital might not be practical; he owned a restaurant himself at Heaven Port, though it only opened a few times a year.

Actually, he had a good idea. Renting his money for investing in hotels and inns in Lostra was bound to get his approval, especially since they had to heavily rely on his gold coins.

"Really?"

Archer called over Magnus, still conscious of having an apprentice, to verify the truth.

Magnus tactically wore a poker face. Are you serious? Yet he nodded.

"Crap, does this mean doomsday is approaching faster!"

Archer took a swig of wine to settle his shock, but since there were still years left, he decided to just muddle through.

But, because he was a fool, no one cared what he was talking about.

Liszt looked at Magnus, "I think you're really impressive; haven't you thought about participating in the Continent Martial Arts Competition?"

Liszt truly felt this one-armed fellow was formidable—not only Heroic Level adventurer strong, but truly Seven Martial Seas level.

"I'm not after those things."

Magnus was mingling with the Black Sail crew because he had nowhere else to go; hearing they were heading west of the Narrow Sea next, this was fine for him as well; he had always been with his mount, Zhaoye, who had completed its mission and should return to its homeland.

"Then what do you seek? A wife, maybe some investments, or perhaps becoming a radio MC suits you?"

Liszt believed the current connection wouldn't suffice to hold Magnus, who really played the teacher role loosely and needed some strategy to bind him.

"I don't know."

Magnus was aimless, taking each step as it came, completely unaware of what a radio MC was.

"If you must say one thing?"

"Uh... I really can't think of anything."

"You really know how to live—you don't resort to vices, and everything you choose brings pure profit. Life is about having hope. Many rich people choose suicide post-bankruptcy. Do you know why?"

"Isn't it because they can't return to their previous life?"

"That's secondary. The truth is quite the opposite. After tasting all of it, they realize it's actually boring, and they lack the drive to bounce back. They've lost hope. Do you get what I mean?"

"Mm... not fully."

"You are institutionalized, redeemed by the Witch Hunting Secret Department, just like many who've spent decades in prison and still want to return to it. You're living in the shadow of Old Aran, severely PUA'd. Your journey is just beginning; the reason you don't know what you want is that you don't have your own worldview."

"I've traveled far and wide, having visited many places."

Magnus stated truthfully.

"Not the same; you've only been to the surface world. Your attention was always on revenge, with no mind for the real world. Rein, who would you choose for your last dance before death?"

Liszt asked.

"Of course, the fluffy bunny-eared girl! Damn, Xiao Long stood up suddenly!"

Rein exclaimed at the broadcast. Is this even humanly possible?

"Shadi, who would you choose for your last dance before death?"

Liszt continued to ask; naturally, furry is the Furry Control, not a problem.

"Moying."

Shadi absentmindedly gave his answer listening to the broadcast.

Liszt and Magnus paused their conversation, greatly shocked.

"Who's Moying?"

Liszt hadn't expected there to be someone with even a name.

"Didn't you allocate land to Mirror Sea, at Dead Man Bay? It doesn't matter now, but these four ounces on the scale would weigh a thousand pounds later, charging you with crimes against humanity isn't an issue."

"No... Let's talk about this later, don't change the subject. I just want to know who the hell is Moying?"

"It's that one stationed in Dead Man Bay, disciple of the Great Mage of Mirror Sea, a mermaid, you know? Here to help Ox, now at the Wind Anchor of Lostra."

"Ah, this..."

Liszt was speechless, turning to Magnus, "Now you understand. What about you, who would you like for your last dance before death?"

Magnus was stunned by the profound question! Truly unanswerable!

"You've never seen the world, so you lack a worldview, thus no hope. Honestly, I want to keep you; people need hope. In the real world, hope needs Yuanzi. Before jumping off as a bankrupt millionaire, one should at least be a millionaire once. Stay with Black Sail; Yuanzi will be plentiful, what do you think? Gentleman's Agreement."

Liszt spoke to the rest of the crew about a Gentleman's Agreement, generally considered dull, but this fellow's was genuinely feasible.

"Earlier I forgot; you'll play a pitiable soul hovering between life and death, dying on the street, revealing Black Sail's truth."

Rein sensed something off; if Xiao Long won, Morrison had a strong chance of winning the final pot.

Magnus hesitated for a moment, indeed realizing... it was true.

Liszt's eyes focused sharply, transitioning freely, deploying deception with precision—it had already worked. The emotional torment previously shielded him from mind control, but without its influence now, could he still resist?

"Alright."

Magnus made his decision.

"That's settled then."

Liszt's tone was calm.

"Of course, having a chance not to let these skills go to waste is also good."

Magnus knew Liszt simply wanted a fighter, but what he said wasn't without merit.

[The spiked Special Large Sword was about to grind Xiao Long into mince, but...

What was happening? The sword moved so fast it was only a silvery gleam, instantly slashing through the spiked Great Sword, tearing it apart into fragmented pieces before they even hit the ground...

Xiao Long rolled to the ground, sword sheathed.

Clement fell like a kite with a broken string!

It was Xiao Long; he earned a spot in the top eight!]

Morrison lightly clapped; these forty gold dragons looked to be his. Riding this momentum to first place should be no problem.

Next up was the first group's ongoing match, Gun Tomb Louis versus Highway Ranger Bai Xing.

To allow the participants some rest, the group leader wouldn't be immediately decided; subsequently came the second group, third group, fourth group.

In the end, each group's leader would be decided sequentially, progressing to the semifinals.

Just at this time, an urgent radio communication was received, sent by Swan.

[Something's terribly wrong, Ben, that Shadow Messenger of the Thief Guild, is now right beside Aran's Second Prince, Phoenix.]

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