Home Reborn as a Pirate Captain – My Journey to Build a Pirate Republic Chapter 39: It’s Much, and Definitely Not Honest Work

Reborn as a Pirate Captain – My Journey to Build a Pirate Republic

Chapter 39: It’s Much, and Definitely Not Honest Work
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Chapter 39: It’s Much, and Definitely Not Honest Work

James swept his gaze over the wreckage drifting around them, then dismissed it from his mind.

Every shattered hull belonged to the Spanish navy. Any harbor worth sailing into would recognize them on sight. No fence in Nassau would touch them, and if Havana learned that a captured Guarda Costa sloop was sailing under pirate colors, the trouble wouldn’t be worth it.

Better to strip away the powder, the shot, whatever coin had been locked inside a dead captain’s chest, then leave the ships to the sea or the survivors.

The treasure ships were the real prize. Everything burning behind them was only smoke.

"We’re not keepin’ any of that."

James jerked his head toward the wrecks. "Take what’s worth takin’, then cut ’em loose. If the Spanish want to swim, that’s their affair."

"Aye, generous of us."

Cudjoe kept coiling rope without looking up. "We’ve left five king’s ships burnin’ and sinkin’, but we’re worried about bein’ polite."

The Rose answered the helm, her bow swinging toward the nearest treasure ship.

Behind her, boats were already pulling alongside the crippled Spanish sloops. Powder kegs, shot, spare muskets, and anything else worth carrying disappeared into waiting hands before the battered warships were left to their fate. With nothing left aboard worth risking another minute for, every eye turned toward the real prize.

Before the turn was complete, familiar letters shimmered into the air in front of James.

⚓ [SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

Quest Complete: The Spanish Have Learned Nothing

Reward: 50 Fate

Reward: Ship Perk — [True Shot]

Several crewmen are about to become convinced you possess supernatural protection. It is almost sweet that this explanation is easier for them than basic competence.

James barely spared the message a glance. There would be time to think about the ship perks and the Fate shop later. Now, there was work to do.

"If they fancy me haunted, who am I to rob ’em of the comfort?"

The notification vanished.

James returned both hands to the wheel. Three treasure ships weren’t going to board themselves.

"Grey! Take her."

He stepped aside, and Grey wrapped both hands around the spokes.

"Keep her steady. Nothin’ clever."

"Grapples up!"

Cudjoe was already striding down the deck, turning the crew’s excitement into something useful. "You lot, rail! Hooks ready! The rest of ye quit gawkin’ and form a line! This isnae a parade!"

Iron hooks flew across the narrowing distance. They struck the cargo ship rail with a series of sharp cracks.

Ropes snapped tight, and both ships groaned as they came together.

"That’s it!" someone shouted from the rail, straining on a line with both hands.

"Bring her alongside! Keep pullin’, lads!"

Kit crossed first, as always. He swung from a rope with his boarding pike already in hand and landed hard enough to stagger before catching himself.

"First aboard!"

He spread his arms toward the others with a broad grin.

James came over a heartbeat later. His boots landed on deck planks that smelled of tar and old cargo instead of fresh blood.

The deck had the uneasy stillness of a fight that had never begun. Sailors stood with empty hands in plain sight while James’s crew spread through the ship without hurry.

A man waited beside the mainmast.

He stood perfectly straight, hands folded behind his back, coat buttoned all the way to his throat despite the heat.

"Sir. I am Capitán Rodrigo Ibarra Vasconcelos, master of this vessel. I formally surrender her into your custody, in proper order, according to the customs of the sea."

"The customs of the sea?" James smiled. "Ye’ve studied this, have ye?"

"I have endeavored to prepare myself, sir, for every circumstance a man in my position might reasonably expect."

The captain spoke careful English, placing each word with obvious concentration.

"I would respectfully request that my crew be granted their safety, as custom dictates, since we have offered no resistance and our colors were struck before your arrival."

"Aye, they were."

James glanced toward the bare halyard where the Spanish flag had flown only minutes before.

Then, he nodded, "Ye’ll keep yer lives, yer personal effects, and whatever dignity ye’ve managed to hold onto through all this. I’ll give you credit, that’s more than most. The cargo belongs to me. That’s the bargain."

"A most fair bargain, sir."

The captain paused only long enough to gather himself.

"I am given to understand that resisting would have been... inadvisable."

"Aye."

James gave a small nod.

"You understood that part perfectly."

Around them, pirates were already spreading across the deck. Hatches swung open. Lantern light spilled into the holds, and delighted shouting echoed upward as silver came into view.

"There’s enough silver down here tae sink the Rose twice over!"

Mackerel Jim yelled from below, equally amazed and completely unreliable. "I’ve counted four chests already, and there’s another hundred behind ’em! At least a hundred!"

Below deck, the work had already begun. Chests of silver disappeared up the hatch one after another, passed into waiting hands before making the short trip back to the Rose.

Across the water, the Revenge had reached the second treasure ship with the same racket of grapples and straining ropes. Thatch was already over her rail, roaring something James couldn’t make out beyond the unmistakable sound of boasting.

"Calloway!"

Thatch bellowed across the gap. "Mine’s carryin’ more silver than yours! Ye’ll be beggin’ me for a fair split before mornin’!"

James started to answer.

Instead, his gaze carried farther across the water.

The third cargo ship still floated untouched off the starboard side. No grapples clung to her rails, no pirates swarmed her deck. Her crew stood watching both boardings with tension.

Nobody had claimed her.

They’d agreed to split the prizes evenly, but neither of them had bothered deciding who took which ship. She sat there untouched, carrying the same kind of cargo as her sisters, waiting for whichever captain reached her first.

James looked toward the ship.

Then at Thatch.

Thatch had stopped shouting.

He was staring at the exact same prize.

"That one’s mine!"

James was already striding for the rail.

"Like hell it is!" Thatch shoved through his own men toward the Revenge’s boats.

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