Sammy made his way down from the main deck and headed toward a small room near the entrance to the sterncastle deck.
A crude wooden sign had been nailed beside the door, with the words NAVIGATION ROOM roughly carved into it with a knife.
He pushed the door open.
The room wasn’t particularly large, but Hans kept it surprisingly tidy.
Several enormous sea charts, pieced together from smaller maps, covered the walls.
Navigation logs and notebooks lay spread across the desk, while Hans sat hunched over them, brows tightly furrowed as he compared one set of information with another.
“Yo, Hans.
Busy?”
Sammy greeted him casually and leaned against the doorframe.
“If I remember correctly, our next stop is an island called Drum Island, right?”
Hans looked up and adjusted his glasses.
“That’s right, Boss.
Based on the direction of the Log Pose and the information Mr.
Crocus gave us, our next destination should be Drum Island.”
He tapped one of the notes on his desk.
“Apparently, it’s a major medical kingdom famous for its advanced medical knowledge.”
“Oh?”
Sammy’s interest was immediately piqued.
“A medical kingdom?”
He stepped farther into the room and glanced over the charts pinned to the walls.
“Tell me more.
What do we know about Drum Island?”
“I’m still organizing everything.”
Hans immediately began digging through the piles of documents.
“Drum Island, Drum Island…
Ah!
Here it is.”
He pulled out several yellowed sheets of paper along with a few newer handwritten notes.
“Drum Island is a winter-climate island ruled by the Potimuros family.
The current king is Potimuros Gabo, better known as the Iron Wall King.”
[Author’s Note: An original character; Wapol’s grandfather.]
“According to the information we have, during his reign, King Gabo used the authority and wealth of the royal family to recruit and sponsor doctors from all over the world.”
Hans continued reading.
“He also established something known as the Tower of Healers, a protected institution created to safeguard valuable medical knowledge and the doctors themselves from Drum Island’s harsh climate and possible foreign attacks.”
“In addition, he ordered royal scholars and physicians to work together to compile an enormous collection of medical texts.
They’ve also gathered samples of rare medicinal plants and ingredients from all over the world.”
Hans’s tone grew more serious.
“And this king apparently has a very hard-line foreign policy.”
Sammy raised an eyebrow.
“How hard-line?”
“Drum Island has attracted plenty of unwanted attention from pirates and other kingdoms because of its medical knowledge.”
Hans tapped the report.
“In response, King Gabo built an extremely efficient defensive force.
There are even rumors that he’s a formidable warrior in his own right.”
He adjusted his glasses again.
“That’s supposedly where the title ‘Iron Wall King’ came from.
Under his rule, Drum Island hasn’t just become a famous center of medical research and education.
The kingdom itself is also remarkably orderly and prosperous.”
“I see…”
Sammy rubbed his chin.
“Advanced medicine, huh?”
He lightly punched his right fist into his open left palm.
“Perfect.”
Hans looked at him.
“I’ve been thinking for a while that the doctors aboard our ship aren’t good enough.”
Sammy’s expression became more serious.
“They can stitch up ordinary sword wounds, treat cuts, stop bleeding, and deal with basic injuries.
But the moment somebody gets seriously sick or poisoned, we’re practically forced to rely on their body being strong enough to survive on its own.”
Memories of Little Garden flashed through his mind.
“That weakness became painfully obvious during the year we spent on Little Garden.”
“We definitely need to recruit some genuinely capable doctors.”
Then he grinned.
“And if we can’t recruit any…”
Hans already had a bad feeling.
“…then at the very least, we need to get our hands on some proper medical knowledge.”
Hans pushed his glasses higher up his nose, looking somewhat uncertain.
“Boss…”
“Drum Island is one of the world’s most famous centers of medicine.
Doctors there enjoy high social status, comfortable lives, and protection from both the kingdom and its military.”
He hesitated.
“I don’t think many of them would willingly abandon that kind of peaceful life to become ship doctors aboard a pirate vessel.”
Sammy listened to Hans’s concerns for all of two seconds before breaking into an unconcerned grin.
“Who cares?”
Hans blinked.
“We’ll worry about that once we get there!”
Sammy turned and started walking toward the door.
“If asking nicely doesn’t work…”
He stopped at the doorway and glanced back over one shoulder.
“…then we’ll just have to use a less polite method.”
Hans stared at him.
Sammy’s grin widened.
“Don’t forget, Hans…”
“We’re pirates.”
…
“Lower the pirate flag!
Prepare to dock!”
Hans’s voice echoed across the deck.
The Jellyfish Pirates’ skull flag was quickly lowered and replaced with the harmless-looking banner of an ordinary merchant vessel.
Under their new disguise, the Swordfish slowly sailed toward Drum Island’s snow-covered harbor.
The difference from Little Garden couldn’t have been greater.
They had left behind a humid prehistoric jungle filled with tropical heat, towering vegetation, and dinosaurs.
Now, a bitter cold filled the air.
Snow blanketed the rooftops around the harbor, while frost clung to railings, docks, and buildings.
The Swordfish had barely settled into its berth when a harbor official came jogging toward them.
The gangplank hadn’t even been fully lowered yet.
The man wore a thick winter uniform and carried a registration board tightly against his chest.
Sammy glanced toward Hans and jerked his chin forward.
“Same routine as always.”
Hans immediately understood.
“Got it, Boss.”
A merchant’s friendly smile appeared on his face almost instantly.
Hans hurried down to meet the official and began negotiating with him.
Before long, the paperwork was completed.
Along with it came a docking fee that was anything but cheap.
Hans returned to Sammy and lowered his voice.
His expression had become noticeably more serious.
“Boss, their inspections are stricter than anything we’ve encountered on the previous islands.”
Sammy listened quietly.
“They asked detailed questions about our identities, our cargo, and where we came from.”
Hans glanced toward the harbor officials.
“I registered us as a merchant vessel from the West Blue.
According to our paperwork, we mainly trade in…”
He paused awkwardly.
“…specialty handicrafts and exotic overseas goods.”
Sammy nodded approvingly.
“Good work.”
Then he immediately began giving orders.
“Send a team down to the cargo hold.
Have them bring out some of the stuff we’ve collected that’s useless to us and taking up space.”
He looked toward the town beyond the harbor.
“We’ll find a shop and sell it off.” Get faster updates on g.com.
Sammy’s gaze sharpened.
“And spread the word to everyone aboard.”
“Watch what you say.”
“Right now, we’re merchants from the West Blue who came here to do business.”
He pointed toward the crew.
“No bragging.”
“No stupid pirate stories.”
“And nobody slips up and exposes us.”
“Understood.”
Sammy didn’t bring the entire crew ashore.
Instead, he took Aldo, Cajero, several other officers, and a small but capable team of men.
Together, they carried more than a dozen crates of reasonably valuable-looking merchandise into the streets of Drum Island.
The moment Sammy properly stepped onto the island, he gained a much clearer understanding of just how tightly controlled the kingdom really was.
Armed patrols moved throughout the harbor.
Some soldiers carried long spears.
Others carried firearms.
Their sharp gazes constantly swept across every newly arrived ship and every traveler stepping onto the island.
Tall watchtowers overlooked the port, each one manned by soldiers keeping careful watch over the surrounding area.
But after observing them for a while, Sammy noticed something interesting.
The inspections were strict, yes.
But the soldiers seemed far more concerned with maintaining order than uncovering every shady traveler who entered the kingdom.
Several other merchant groups had recently arrived at the harbor.
Quite a few of those “merchants” had scarred faces, vicious expressions, and suspicious bulges beneath their coats or around their waists.
Anyone with experience could tell they weren’t exactly respectable businessmen.
More likely than not, several of them were pirates using the exact same trick as the Jellyfish Pirates.
Yet the patrols didn’t immediately arrest them.
The soldiers simply performed their routine inspections.
They checked the cargo manifests.
They examined the paperwork.
They made sure nobody was carrying anything explicitly forbidden.
And as long as the visitors behaved themselves at the harbor and didn’t cause trouble, the guards appeared perfectly willing to look the other way.
Sammy quickly understood the unspoken rule.
It didn’t matter where you came from.
Pirate.
Smuggler.
Underworld trader.
Merchant.
As long as you obeyed Drum Island’s laws while standing on Drum Island soil, the Iron Wall King seemed willing to tolerate a certain amount of gray-market business.
“Tch.
The Iron Wall King…”
Cajero muttered under his breath.
“Looks like that reputation wasn’t exaggerated.
This place really is run like a well-oiled machine.”
He carefully straightened his bow tie, making himself look even more like a wealthy and successful merchant.
“As long as we don’t deliberately cause trouble, we probably won’t have any problems.”
Sammy grinned.
“Then let’s behave ourselves for now.”
He glanced toward the crates being carried behind them.
“First, we’ll find somewhere to sell these ‘local specialties’ of ours.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking deeper into town.
“We’ll use the money to restock the Swordfish…”
His grin widened.
“…and once that’s taken care of, we’ll have a proper look around Drum Island.”
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