Sea Monster Stew Chapter 2 - The Pirate and the Livestock

Pirates are, by nature, a savage breed that craves plunder and destruction. But the Crocus Pirates were different.

 

They took pleasure in restoring freedom to kidnapped slaves. The pride of a great pirate suppressed the savage instincts bestowed by the sea.

 

Captain Hawk had even extended a helping hand to the slave ship where Bicche had been kidnapped. He safely disembarked dozens of human slaves on Sanshakrit Island.

 

On the other hand, the monster slaves were beheaded on the spot. Some monsters were thrown into large tanks, like ornamental fish. They were members of the merfolk race, often considered the epitome of “humanoid sea monsters.”

 

“It would be fun to release sharks in here,” Captain Hawk remarked, gazing contentedly at the merfolk trapped in the large tank. He glanced down at Bicche beside him as if seeking her opinion. “Right?”

 

Bicche bowed her head deeply, trying hard to avoid making eye contact with the merfolk. Some of them had been severely whipped on the slave ship, their tail fins tattered. With every flick of their tails, red blood swirled in the water.

 

“What do you think, kid?”

 

When Bicche trembled and averted her gaze, Captain Hawk turned his question to the slouching slave boy standing beside her. The gray-haired boy, who had been yawning lazily, replied with a bored expression.

 

“Sharks probably aren’t picky about how their food tastes.”

 

“But I hear merfolk meat is quite delicious?”

 

“Why would you eat something that looks human? It’s disgusting.”

 

The boy glared at Captain Hawk with a disgusted face. Bicche, caught between them, hunched her shoulders nervously.

 

“It’s a shame there are no male merfolk, Captain,” a sailor interjected, rolling an oak barrel. “I hear young males are rare and worth twice as much.”

 

“Oh? Males are more expensive than females?”

 

“They say if they mate with human women, there’s a high chance of producing beautiful merfolk offspring, so they’re sold at high prices mainly for breeding purposes.”

 

Bicche flinched at the word “breeding.” Meanwhile, the slave boy frowned and shot a fierce glare at the sailor.

 

“That’s ridiculous. How could a creature with the lower body of a fish mate with a human woman?”

 

“I heard that when merfolk live on land, they grow legs and ‘this’,” the young sailor gestured to his lower body and shook his hips obscenely.

 

Captain Hawk clicked his tongue and quickly covered Bicche’s eyes. “Have you no shame, doing that in front of children?”

 

Bicche absently listened to their conversation while gazing at the merfolk in the tank. The sailor’s explanation was half right and half wrong.

 

Among the merfolk, there was a rare breed that could transform into human form and settle on land. Bicche’s father was one of them.

 

But although Bicche was born from the union of her father and a human woman, she did not inherit a beautiful tail.

 

“By the way, Captain, why did you bring these two back onboard?” the sailor asked, pointing his chin at Bicche and the slave boy. “Didn’t you let all the other slaves off at Sanshakrit?”

 

Bicche wondered the same thing. All the rescued slaves had regained their freedom hours ago.

 

But just before disembarking, the gray-haired boy and Bicche were grabbed by the shoulder by the captain. Without explanation, he brought them back onto the ship.

 

‘Did he somehow figure out I’m a hybrid?’

 

Just as she swallowed nervously, Hawk smiled gently and said, “I still have business with this young lady.”

 

He whistled playfully as his eyes swept over Bicche’s green tunic dress. Bicche bowed her head in fear.

 

“Captain, you’re not… harboring any improper intentions toward a child, are you?” the slave boy glared at Captain Hawk, his eyebrows furrowed.

 

“If you drag a child into your bed, you’ll incur the wrath of the sea gods.”

 

“You brat, are you calling me a perverted scoundrel?” Captain Hawk swung a fist toward the back of the boy’s head. The boy dodged lightly and grabbed Bicche’s wrist.

 

“Let’s go back now.”

 

Bicche’s eyes widened as she was pulled along. “Where to…?”

 

“The crew quarters. I’m tired of entertaining these fishy-smelling old men.”

 

The boy strode quickly, leading them out of the cargo hold. Behind them, snippets of conversation between Captain Hawk and the sailor drifted over.

 

“Captain! Have you seen Kisa? He’s been missing for days.”

 

“Probably lazing around somewhere. Leave him be.”

 

The boy led Bicche deep into the pirate ship. Passing through an open door, they entered a spacious crew quarters with rows of hammocks.

 

This was where they had stayed for two days with the other young slaves after being rescued by the pirates. The other children had already safely disembarked on Sanshakrit Island, leaving only Bicche and the boy to occupy the large room.

 

“Why do you think Captain Hawk kept us?” the boy asked, releasing Bicche’s wrist.

 

Bicche quietly observed the boy’s attire as he walked toward the hammocks.

 

A stark white linen shirt with a stiffly starched collar, loose black cotton pants, and leather boots that reached just below his knees.

 

Perhaps it was his beautiful face and glossy hair, but even in simple clothing, he looked like a nobleman wearing expensive formal attire. The leather belt draped over his shirt alone was clearly a high-quality, costly item.

 

“…Maybe he plans to demand a ransom from our parents?”

 

“Captain Hawk isn’t the type to threaten civilians for money,” the boy snorted, flopping into a hammock. His firm tone conveyed deep trust in the captain.

 

Bicche stared intently at the boy as he calmly closed his eyes.

 

‘…How can he be so composed?’

 

On the day they first introduced themselves to the other slave children in this room, the boy had stood out from the start.

 

He was noticeably tall and handsome. Even Captain Hawk, who had come to reassure the slaves, gaped in surprise when he first saw him.

 

“Aren’t you scared?” Bicche muttered sullenly. “We’ve been captured again.”

 

“You think they’ll eat us or something? Instead of worrying, get some sleep.”

 

The boy turned over as if refusing further conversation. Bicche glared at his irritating back before trudging to a corner of the room.

 

She crawled under an old blanket spread on the floor and buried her face in the pillow. Tears she had been holding back finally streamed down her cheeks.

 

The moment her hope of returning to her parents shattered, an indescribable sense of frustration overwhelmed her. Even though the captain tried to distract her by showing her around the ship, she couldn’t focus at all.

 

“Ugh…” Bicche curled into a ball and sobbed quietly. She longed to be wrapped in her parents’ warm embrace. Just as she pulled the blanket over her head and squeezed her eyes shut—

 

“What are you doing? You’ve been at it for a while.”

 

A voice tinged with irritation came from outside the blanket. Bicche’s bloodshot eyes widened, and she peeked out from under the covers.

 

The boy was standing tall nearby, staring down at her.

 

“Why are you crying?” he asked shortly in an indifferent tone.

 

Bicche stared blankly up at him. The boy furrowed his brow and asked again, “Are you crying because you’re scared of the pirates?”

 

His blunt voice held no warmth. His expression suggested he genuinely didn’t understand her tears. He gazed intently at Bicche’s pale face before plopping down on the bare floor beside her.

 

“If you’re really scared, I’ll stay with you. So stop crying, okay?”

 

Bicche blinked slowly. The sudden warmth shook her heart.

 

Just moments ago, she had felt utterly alone in this vast room, but now she realized she wasn’t by herself.

 

Somehow, just having someone nearby, just knowing she wasn’t alone, brought her a strange sense of relief.

 

“What’s so scary about those fishy-smelling old men anyway?” The boy scratched his head with an awkward expression. His eyes, glancing at Bicche’s face, held complex emotions.

 

After a moment of thoughtful silence, the boy stretched his long legs and leaned comfortably against the wall.

 

“Want to play a riddle game?”

 

“A riddle?”

 

“Riddles are perfect for stopping tears. Come on, sit up.”

 

His voice had softened slightly. Perhaps it was his way of trying to cheer her up.

 

Bicche rustled as she sat up and leaned against the wall beside him.

 

“Listen. This is the most famous riddle from my hometown.” The gray-haired boy began boastfully.

 

“A couple was sailing together on the vast ocean.”

 

“Just the two of them?”

 

“Just listen. Their voyage took longer than expected, and they ran out of all the food they had prepared. The wife, exhausted from hunger, barely regained her strength after eating a meat stew her husband made for her.”

 

The gray-haired boy paused, then put on a solemn expression.

 

“But as soon as she finished talking with her husband, she threw herself into the sea.”

 

“…Did she take her own life?”

 

“Perhaps. Now, why do you think she threw herself into the sea?”

 

The room fell dead silent. The boy waited leisurely for Bicche’s answer.

 

Bicche rolled her eyes before cautiously breaking the silence.

 

“You said they ran out of food. Then where did the meat for the stew suddenly come from?”

 

“No matter what questions you ask, I can only answer yes or no.”

 

Bicche tilted her head and looked at the boy.

 

“Did the husband… get the meat for the stew from the middle of the ocean?”

 

“Correct.”

 

“Did the wife ask her husband about the stew’s ingredients and then become shocked?”

 

The boy nodded silently. Bicche sank deeper into thought. It was clear the wife in the riddle had decided to die because of the stew’s ingredients. A chilling possibility crossed her mind.

 

“Did… part of the husband’s body disappear after making the stew?”

 

“Are you asking if he made the stew with his own flesh?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“No. The husband’s body was perfectly fine even after making the stew.”

 

So it wasn’t cannibalism. Bicche breathed a sigh of relief.

 

But the mystery remained. What ingredient could possibly be so shocking that it would drive someone to take their own life?

 

The boy stared intently at Bicche, lost in thought, then grinned.

 

“I’ll just tell you the answer. The stew the husband fed his wife was…”

 

He leaned slightly toward Bicche and lowered his voice.

 

“…made from sea monster meat.”