Chapter 42: "Fishing for Trouble"

Mirtha could feel the bitterness in the captain's tone, the kind of deep animosity that made him bite down on his teeth. This was the first time he had ever seen Ian's expression and tone shift like this.

Mirtha's face darkened, but he remained silent. His jaw clenched, and veins pulsed in his forehead. He pounded his chest and downed his drink in one gulp.

"The captain's enemies are my enemies," he thought to himself.

Liya, watching Ian, felt a tightness in her chest. She had always thought of Ian as the kind of man who treated everyone with kindness, and so, she had assumed the world would reciprocate his gentleness.

But reality had a way of shattering expectations. She thought of her own father, and the parallel was clear.

Turning to look Ian in the eyes, her tone was playful, but her words held a weight of seriousness: "Your will is my mission, Captain."

Ian smiled warmly. "After lunch, have Mirtha show you around the ship. Get familiar with it. You don't need to be on watch—Leviathan will alert me if anything happens."

After the meal, Mirtha and Liya cleared the table, while Ian retreated into his "space" to continue his research on alchemical cannons.

"Woah-woah... (A ship's following us...)"

The signal from Woah-woah jolted Ian out of his alchemical thoughts. He stood, and as he did, the "walls" around the space seemed to fade, revealing the view outside. Two armed merchant ships were several miles ahead of Leviathan—one on the left, one on the right.

The wind was picking up, about force 4 or 5, but visibility remained good. Ian could clearly see both ships flying the flags of the Hanseatic Trade Company and the Royal Niger Company.

It suddenly dawned on Ian that the Hanseatic Trade Company, once led by Captain Homan, had been absorbed by the Royal Niger Company. These ships must be carrying goods to support the colonization of the New World.

Liya and Mirtha stood at the bow, watching the two merchant ships' movements. They had sensed something was off as well.

As Woah-woah relayed more details, Ian quickly pieced together the situation.

After lunch, the northeast wind had strengthened. Despite the headwind, Leviathan's speed hadn't slowed. In fact, the sails caught the wind better than expected, speeding the ship up.

But then, in the distance, Ian spotted other sails on the horizon, and Leviathan veered sharply to the left, reducing its propeller output to nearly nothing. This was Ian's plan—Leviathan's incredible speed was its greatest weapon, and he wanted to use that element of surprise when the time was right.

The two ships were small, armed Galleons—slightly larger than Leviathan. They had noticed the ship's sudden shift in direction and had adjusted their course too, as though they were waiting for Leviathan to come closer.

In the Sea of Miracles, aside from professional pirates, many merchant ships and whalers often took on the role of pirates when they encountered what they thought were "soft targets."

Pirates often disguised themselves as merchant ships, and merchants might fly the black flag when the situation called for it.

It was a scenario Ian had anticipated.

Leviathan wasn't incapable of raising all its sails—it simply didn't want to bother. Adjusting the sails to match the ever-shifting wind was too much of a hassle with so few crew members. Woah-woah, after all, could only handle so much.

Raising only two of the masts' sails was a deliberate move—it was Ian's form of "fishing for trouble."

The best hunters often appeared as prey.

Ian grinned. "Woah-woah, what would a panicked 'prey' do right about now?"

Without waiting for Woah-woah's response, Ian continued, "Of course, they'd try to run. Cut the propellers, turn sharply left, and 'try' to break free."

At his command, Leviathan veered hard to the left, relying only on its sails to power it as it headed northwest.

Meanwhile, on the merchant ship Golden Sail, several miles ahead, the first mate was using a spyglass to closely monitor Leviathan's movements.

"It's running! Captain!" he shouted.

"Adjust course and intercept it. Signal Swordfish with the flags. Block its right side. Close the distance and prepare to fire."

The wooden merchant ships, while often riddled with holes from solid shot, never sank. But cannon fire could certainly break the will of their prey.

The captain of Golden Sail rubbed his dirty beard, grinning. "Luck's on my side. Looks like I'm about to make a fortune."

From his spyglass, he could see that the ship only had two sails raised. There were no visible guns, and the deck appeared empty—someone was either out of luck or in trouble.

"Stupid and evil!" Ian muttered as he stepped onto the aft platform, his hand brushing over the rainproof cover of the alchemical cannon.

He had underestimated the merchant ship captain. In the Sea of Miracles, the size of the ship, the number of guns, and the number of crew members were the true measures of power.

A few more extraordinary people wouldn't change the balance of things. Extraordinary individuals were little more than fleas when dodging cannonballs and concentrated gunfire.

Liya's footsteps approached from behind. "How are we going to fight?"

She had noticed the change in Leviathan's speed first. When she felt the ship slow, she understood what Ian was planning.

After all, Leviathan could easily outrun these merchant ships. Escaping them was child's play, but Ian was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Ian flashed a grin. "Wait until they're closer, then we'll play them like a kite. No one's getting away."

Twenty minutes later, the two merchant ships, now flying pirate flags, had slowly maneuvered into position for a "pincer attack."

"Woah-woah… (One mile distance)," Woah-woah relayed the precise distance. Ian, with his enhanced vision, could clearly see the sailors on the enemy ship, standing ready for action.

One mile was roughly 1852 meters. The 9-pound to 32-pound cannons had a maximum range of 1300 to 2000 meters, with effective ranges of 400-1200 meters. The enemy ships' biggest guns were only 18-pounders.

"Prepare to fire. Load the cannon. Wait for my command!" Ian ordered.

Liya and Mirtha, working together, quickly stripped the rain covers off the cannons.

Leviathan's two 24-pound alchemical cannons at the bow and stern were controlled by anchor chains, while Ian and Mirtha worked the 18-pound cannon beneath the main mast.

The chains shot out like black serpents, one crossing the deck to operate the stern cannon, the other to the bow. Though the chains were a bit bulky, the rhythm was steady, and in just 20 seconds, the cannons were loaded and ready.

Liya, still new to the team, wasn't fully in sync with the others, but Ian had her focus on the enemy ships' movements.

Within 30 seconds, the two extraordinary individuals had loaded the cannons.

Despite the waves rocking Leviathan, the ship was much more stable than the enemy vessels.

With his mind linked to Woah-woah, Ian sensed the ship's motions in perfect harmony.

"Fire!"