Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 59 The Horn of the Storm

"A deal between a mystic and a master is never just about gold coins and contracts..."

"Is their arrival the guidance of fate, or a deeper conspiracy?"

In the hall of the returnees' hometown, the air was filled with the faint aroma of wine and faint fluctuations of mysterious energy.

Most of the mystics who were eager to try were rejected, and the people in the tavern gradually dispersed.

Only Calvino still stood in the selector's position with a cold expression, tapping his fingers on the gun handle, patiently waiting for the next applicant.

The door of the returnee's hometown was slowly pushed open, and a figure leaned lazily on the door frame.

He did not rush in like the others, but casually glanced around the room.

As if he was weighing whether this was a place worth his time.

He looked more like a real pirate than the previous mystics—

His skin was tanned by the sun, he looked dusty, his hair was slightly messy, and a dark blue monocle covered his right eye. The edge of the lens glowed like broken waves in the candlelight.

Although his clothes were simple, they were clean and neat. A long-barreled musket was hung at his waist, and ancient marine inscriptions were faintly engraved on the butt.

He didn't rush to introduce himself, but walked directly to the bar and made a frivolous gesture to Leng Ji: "Give me a glass of rum."

Leng Ji raised his eyebrows slightly and handed him a glass of amber-colored liquor.

The man picked up the glass and shook it gently, as if he was tasting the quality of the wine. Then he lowered his head and took a sip. His eyes were casual, but with a hint of inquiry.

Calvino squinted his eyes and stared at him, sizing up this late applicant. His voice was emotionless: "Are you here to apply?"

The man put down his glass and smiled slightly: "Yes, but judging from your expressions, it seems that you are not very satisfied with those people before?"

Calvino said calmly, “What makes you think you’re an exception?”

The man shrugged, placed the glass on the table, and tapped his fingertips on the rim twice, as if to adjust his thoughts.

He did not answer directly, but slowly stretched out his finger, dipped it in a drop of wine, and slowly drew an arc on the surface of the wooden table.

Then, he pointed to the reflection of the wine glass on the table, and said in a low voice with a strange rhythm:

"Your journey will take you across a stormy sea, where the winds could crush your ship to pieces."

The reflection of the wine glass swayed slightly when his fingers passed over it, like the surging tide on the sea.

Calvino's expression changed slightly, and his fingers gripping the gun handle tightened slightly: "What do you mean?"

The man slowly adjusted his monocle, the lens reflecting a faint blue halo in the candlelight. His voice was like a whisper from the night tide: "I can hear the wind whispering."

The air seemed to be still at this moment.

Leng Ji stopped wiping the wine glass in his hand, narrowed his violet eyes slightly, and looked at the man in front of him with a smile.

Calvino was silent for a moment, and finally spoke slowly: "Your name."

"Rex Hawke." The man chuckled, picked up his glass and raised it. "Everyone, if you need someone who can find a way out of the storm, don't miss me."

Calvino stared at him for a long time and finally nodded slightly.

——Lookout, admission.

The atmosphere in the tavern changed dramatically in just a few hours. What had originally been an ordinary recruitment event was now filled with an oppressive sense of power.

Everyone standing here is an experienced sea desperado, and each of them carries his or her own story and secrets.

The door of the returnee's hometown was suddenly kicked open, and a huge figure stepped in. His shoulder almost hit the door frame, making a dull sound.

Everyone in the tavern subconsciously looked at the newcomer—a man as sturdy as a mountain, his upper body bare, revealing skin covered in old wounds. On his back was a tattoo of a giant deep-sea whale torn apart by lightning. The lines were rough, like the battle crest of some ancient tribe.

His fists were as big as two hammers, hanging casually at his sides, but exuding a sense of oppression, making people suspect that he could smash the tables and chairs in the tavern into pieces with just one punch.

He walked straight towards Calvino, looked down at him, and said in a low voice like thunder: "I heard that you need sailors."

Calvino did not respond, but slowly raised the rifle in his hand, pointing the muzzle steadily at the man's forehead. The atmosphere in the tavern instantly froze.

The burly man blinked, a hint of excitement appearing at the corner of his mouth. The next second, he suddenly raised his fist and slammed it hard on the floor.

"boom!"

The entire tavern's ground shook violently, and the wooden floor even made a barely perceptible cracking sound.
The air seemed to freeze at that moment, and the dust trembled slightly, as if even the air was shaken apart for a moment by this brute force.

He grinned, revealing his white teeth. "Testing me so soon? Very good."

He slowly stretched out his arms, as if recounting something completely ordinary: "I once fought a sea monster barehanded for five days and five nights in the abyss, and finally crawled out of its belly alive."

His voice was steady and powerful, and every word he said was like a hammer hitting the heart of everyone in the tavern.

"You want a sailor? Then I tell you, I can do all the odd jobs at sea."

"What if there's a storm? I can hold up a broken mast with my bare hands."

"What if I encounter a sea monster? I can crush its skull with one punch."

"If I meet a traitor? I'll throw him into the shark's mouth."

His voice was sonorous and powerful, and every word he said was full of unquestionable confidence, even with a hint of fighting fanaticism.

Rex at the bar whistled softly, twirling his glass with his fingers, a meaningful smile on his lips: "Interesting."

Calvino looked at the burly man quietly, his fingers loosened the gun handle, and then he stretched out his hand.

Baroque raised his eyebrows, grinned, stretched out his huge palm, and shook Calvino's hand tightly.

Sailor, admitted.

While everyone was still discussing Baroque's brute force that almost surpassed human capabilities, a lazy voice suddenly rang out: "The wind doesn't like rough people."

The sound was melodious, like the breeze from the sea passing through the deck. A slender figure leaned against the window, casually turning a gold coin in his hand.

He was wearing a loose white shirt with his cuffs slightly rolled up, revealing his wheat-colored skin tanned by the sea breeze. His long hair was slightly curled and casually draped over his shoulders.

His expression was indifferent, as if nothing in this world could really concern him.

He gently tossed the gold coin up, and when it fell, a breeze blew, causing the gold coin to deviate slightly in the air, and finally landed precisely in front of Calvino without the slightest deviation.

"You need a sailor, right?" His voice was a little lazy, but his eyes were as sharp as a hawk.

Calvino stared at the gold coins on the table. No one saw when he threw them, and no one even noticed anything unusual in the direction of the wind.

He said slowly: "Can you control the wind?"

The man smiled slightly, his tone so calm as if he was stating the simplest fact: "Guess?"

Calvino was silent for a moment, and finally nodded slightly.

Sailor, admitted.

The last person to enter the tavern was completely different from the first three.

Her figure was neat and sleek, her steps were steady, and her eyes were as sharp as a knife.

Without any unnecessary greetings, she walked straight up to Calvino and threw a document on the table.

The seal on the document shone with a faint golden glow. It was the official seal of the Guild of Arcanists, indicating that the holder had once held the status of an official expedition leader.

She crossed her arms, with a cold smile on her lips:

"Alison Griffiths. A former Royal Fleet officer who defected and became a pirate. Familiar with all the rules of naval warfare, she has commanded over thirty naval battles and is still alive."

There was no hesitation in her tone, and every word was filled with overwhelming confidence, not seeking approval, but declaring facts.

Calvino raised an eyebrow: "How do you know we will agree?"

Alison smiled slightly, with a gleam in her eyes that could not be refused: "Because you need me."

Calvino looked at her quietly, and then he suddenly laughed, a hearty laugh.

"Hahaha, well, first mate, your seat is yours."

She nodded slightly, as if this was the position she deserved.

First mate, admitted.

When the last member was confirmed, Leng Ji let out a breath, his smile gentle and profound: "It seems that your fleet is finally taking shape."

Siming sat aside, holding his chin, his eyes swept over this group of guys who all had secrets, with a meaningful smile on the corner of his mouth.

"Interesting, this gambling game is getting more and more interesting."

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(End of this chapter)