The morning sun spilled through the dirty windowpane, casting long beams of light across the room's dusty floor.
Adam stood still, staring at the now-dormant system interface floating before him. The choice had been made: The Tyrant.
But he wasn't strong yet. Not even close.
The system's voice had echoed clearly in his mind:
Main Quest: Set Sail
Objective: Become an adventurer, pirate, marine, or bounty hunter and take to the sea.
Reward: Sequence 9 Sailor Potion (Tyrant Pathway)
Condition: Must officially set sail and leave the island.
"That's the first step… become a real sailor," Adam muttered.
He glanced out the window. The port town was already stirring, the sounds of waves and gulls rolling in.
But before he could leave this life behind, he needed money. Berries. No matter the world, currency ruled it.
Two hours later, Adam stood outside a local bar-turned-auction-house, clutching a crumpled deed in his hand.
"I'll give you ninety-five thousand," the greasy man behind the desk said, not even looking up from his papers.
"It's worth at least one-fifty," Adam replied, forcing a calm tone.
The man scoffed. "It's an old farm with aging livestock. You want fast money, I'm giving you a fair price. Take it or leave it."
Adam stared at the paper. Markus' family had probably lived on that land for two generations. But he wasn't Markus—and he didn't have time for sentiment.
"One hundred thousand. Final."
The man smirked, stamped the deed, and counted out a stack of bills. "Pleasure doing business."
Adam pocketed the cash and turned without another word. He had what he needed—money to survive until he grew strong.
The port town was beginning to stir. Seagulls circled overhead, and the salty breeze carried the chatter of merchants setting up stalls. Wooden ships bobbed gently along the docks, their sails furled and crews preparing for the day's work.
At the docks, he spotted a middle-aged man barking orders to a small crew loading crates onto a modest but sturdy merchant vessel.
The name on the hull read "Lily's Grace."
Adam approached, trying to look confident.
"Excuse me," he said, raising a hand. "Are you still looking for deckhands?"
The man turned to him, squinting. He had tanned skin, short graying hair, and the sharp eyes of a man who'd spent his life on the sea.
"You Markus?" he asked, frowning slightly. "From the sheep farm?"
Adam nodded. "Yeah. I'm looking for work. I want to get off the island and start something new."
The man studied him for a moment, then jerked his chin toward the ship. "We're headed to Redleaf Isle. It's a five-day trip across calm waters—unless the weather decides to turn. We lost a man last week, so we've got a spot."
"I'll take it," Adam said immediately.
"You ever been on a ship before?"
"No. But I learn fast."
The man grunted. "Name's Harvin. I'm the first mate. You do what I say, when I say it, and don't complain. You pull your weight, you get food, a hammock, and a small cut when we dock."
Adam extended his hand. "Deal."
Harvin didn't shake it, but gave a small nod. "We leave within the hour. Grab anything you need and be on board before the bell rings. You miss it, we leave you."
"No need to grab anything, I already have everything I need with me, I can board now."
Adam could barely contain his excitement to board and complete the mission
Harvin stepped aside. "Welcome aboard, then. From now on, you're crew."
As Adam stepped onto the deck, a sudden DING echoed in his mind.
Main Quest Objective Achieved
Status: You have officially joined a ship's crew as a sailor.
Delivering Reward: Sequence 9 Sailor Potion (Tyrant Pathway)
Initiating Absorption…
A sudden warmth bloomed in his chest, expanding outward like ripples on water. His knees buckled slightly—not from weakness, but from the flood of sensations overtaking him.
His heartbeat quickened. His lungs felt wider, deeper. The sea breeze brushing against his skin now felt… familiar.
Sequence 9 – Sailor Obtained
Pathway: Tyrant
Status: 0% Digestion
Abilities Unlocked:
– Phantom Scales
– Aquatic Attributes
– Night Vision
– Physical Enhancements
Beneath his skin, something stirred. For a moment, he saw them—shimmering, illusory scales flickering into existence along his arms before fading.
His skin felt slicker, tougher, like something primal now rested just below the surface.
He exhaled sharply, noticing how steady his breath had become.
He felt the faint rhythm of the sea in his blood, as if his body was tuning to the ocean's heartbeat.
A flicker of darkness passed over the ship as a cloud moved overhead—and he realized he could still see clearly. Perfectly clearly.
Even the gentle rocking of the ship beneath his feet didn't throw off his balance in the slightest. It was as if he were standing on unmoving stone.
Adam grinned.
"I really am becoming something else," he murmured. "Something more."
The Tyrant's path had begun—and the sea, vast and unyielding, was now a little more familiar.