Black Sail

The next day.

Every summer at Heaven Port forgets the gloom of the entire world. The clusters of red tile eaves are strung with cords, and under the drying shirts and sheets, the cobblestone staircases of asymmetrical streets rise and fall, becoming sunlit bright corridors.

All the withered potted plants revive in glass windows, the foamy emerald waves dissolve salt grains, stirring up a fresh salty sea breeze.

The midsummer of the East Sea has turned all its metaphors into mirages on the brick roads, reproducing countless afternoons.

"Damn, it’s scorching!"

Every summer, Rein cut his fur into a scruffy wild mess, his muscles bulging intensely. His beastly eyes were fierce, and he walked shirtless wearing only lantern pants, with hands in pockets, Arm Armor reflecting a bright silver glow. He quickly sought the shade.

"I’ve already said I’m withdrawing, don’t come to find me unless there’s no choice, and even then, don’t come."

Wolman was quite accustomed to the climate of the East Sea. Compared to the unchanging humidity of Monges, this place felt like heaven. Sitting dazed on the steps, he stared dumbly at the sea through the outer city’s direction.

"Glasses insisted on coming, saying it’s our last gathering, and he’s treating us anyway."

Rein scratched his ear, planning to disband after this meal. In the Inner City, there’s a Furry Brothel; maybe he could become a manager or something.

"Let me give you some advice. If you still want to hang around Heaven Port, speak less nonsense. Fen is a person with deep scheming; it’s best not to offend him face-to-face. Don’t you like to read newspapers? That’s Pedan’s exiled political dissident."