Chapter 674.1: Only Food Earned Through Labor Carries Dignity
The harbor of Ring Island.
Inside the damp, stuffy cabin, Sesame Paste sat cross-legged beside a lamp, reading aloud from a storybook she had borrowed from Sisi to the children gathered around her.
At first, Misa had been doing it alone, mainly to entertain the restless kids and teach them how to read and write.
Later, Sesame Paste joined in.
Thanks to that, she had recently noticed her Federation language improving quite a bit, especially in reading and writing. For simple texts, she could now read them normally even without relying on a VM.
Squatting beside Sesame Paste, a little girl of about seven or eight hugged her knees, her eyes fixed on the pair of cat ears swaying atop Sesame Paste’s head.
After the story ended, she finally couldn’t hold back her curiosity and spoke softly in a timid voice. “Big sister.”
“What is it?” Sesame Paste flipped a page and looked at her with a gentle smile.
She remembered the girl’s name was Gooseberry.
Her father was a fruit farmer who had left her on the ship before disappearing into the forests outside Port Gallon with other Moonfolk determined to resist.
Like many of the children there, she had no family on board. Misa had been taking care of her.
The little girl hesitated, looking embarrassed for a moment, but eventually spoke what was on her mind. “Are you a messenger of the Silvermoon Goddess?”
Sesame Paste blinked in slight surprise. “Why do you ask that?”
“Because everyone says so... the people on the ship,” the girl whispered. “I was wondering... if the Silvermoon Goddess of Silvermoon Bay and the Moon God of the Poro Province are actually the same person.”
Sometimes she saw mercenaries from Sivermoon Bay secretly praying to the cat-eared big sister, yet the others in the cabin said she was the incarnation of the Moon God. Everyone said different things, and she couldn’t help feeling confused about what the cat-eared big sister really was.
Looking at the eager eyes staring at her, Sesame Paste couldn’t help but smile, reaching out to gently pat Gooseberry’s head. “Well... That might actually be possible. After all, whether it’s mythology or history, they’re all written by people.”
“Really?”
It wasn’t just Gooseberry, every child’s eyes lit up.
“Mm!” Sesame Paste said with a smile. “And I happen to have a good friend who loves researching this sort of thing... you can talk to her about it. She may seem a bit aloof, but she’s actually very kind.”
After finishing the story, Sesame Paste closed the book, dusted off her pants, and stood up.
At that moment, she noticed an elderly woman watching her and walked over with a smile. She couldn’t help but ask, “Is something the matter?”
The old woman’s name was Sangru. At sixty years old, she was the oldest survivor here and a respected elder among the Moonfolk.
Looking at Sesame Paste, the old woman nodded slightly and spoke sincerely.
“It’s nothing. I just wanted to thank you on behalf of everyone... those children are pitiful. Their fathers are fighting the Xilande Empire thousands of miles away. Who knows if they’ll ever reunite. Thanks to you and Misa, they at least have a chance to learn.”
“I’ve only done what I can... and honestly, I’m happy to do it,” Sesame Paste said, scratching her cheek shyly.
“Even so, we are deeply grateful. And to your friends who have taken us in as well,” Sangru said seriously, her tone tinged with guilt. “If there’s anything we can help with, please tell us. Even if it’s just washing clothes or scrubbing the deck. We’ve been eating your food and using your things... everyone feels uneasy about it.”
Sesame Paste laughed helplessly. “You really don’t have to, ”
“This is important to us.” Sangru lowered her gaze apologetically. “I’m sorry if this puts you in a difficult position. Among our Moonfolk, only food earned through labor carries dignity... We are grateful for your help, and we will repay you. But if possible, please give us a chance to earn our dignity ourselves.”
Sesame Paste looked at her in a daze. Seeing the determination in her eyes, she took the old woman’s wrinkled hands and nodded seriously. “Okay, I promise I’ll tell you if we need any help!”
...
At the same time, on the deck of the Roro Boat, a lively chatter filled the air.
Leaning against the railing, a girl and a bear held binoculars, excitedly looking toward the west. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Roro, another ship is coming!”
“I see it! It’s bigger than ours!”
Though they had been bored at the harbor for days, the two never ran out of ways to entertain themselves.
For example, they had been playing around like they were doing the entire time. They were playing a guessing game, whether the first ship docking today would be a warship or a cargo ship.
So far, it looked like Roshan had won.
A cargo ship belching black smoke, with a wide and long deck, was approaching the harbor under the escort of two speedboats. As soon as the fully loaded cargo ship came into view, the loudspeakers at the dock crackled to life.
Urged by the broadcast, workers who had been lounging in the sun stood up, tossing towels over their shoulders and heading back to work, startling flocks of seagulls that had been gathered on the dock.
The once-idle harbor quickly became busy again.
With fierce battles raging in the southern seas, even though Ring Island was far from the center of the conflict, few outside ships docked in the area. Looking out at the empty sea, Roshan sometimes wondered naively if that was why the governor hadn’t chased them away.
After all, the docks were empty anyway. At least they paid 1,000 Dinars a day in docking fees.
“Hey! Roro! Can you see what’s piled on the deck?” Tail shouted.
“Can’t see clearly... It looks like ore?”
Tail suddenly cried out. “Oh no, Roro, we’re in trouble! That ship... it might belong to pirates!”
Roshan looked at her in surprise. “Huh?! How can you tell?!”
“You wouldn’t understand!” Tail lowered her binoculars, planted a foot on the railing, and raised one eyebrow smugly. “I can tell at a glance, the Poor Bitch is actually a pirate ship disguised as a cargo vessel! They’ll raid the harbor and kidnap the governor’s daughter, but luckily the Order of the White Bear will stop them! That’s how it always goes in movies!”
Realizing she was joking again, Roshan sighed in relief. “What kind of name is that for a ship anyway?”
“It came from the northwest, okay? They might really be poor. Don’t sweat the details! Aren’t there bigger things to complain about?” Then Tail suddenly wrinkled her nose. “Wait... Roro, do you smell something weird?”
Roshan took a deep breath into the sea breeze, and immediately scrunched up her furry face, pinching her nose and sticking out her tongue.
“Blegh!”
“It stinks!”
...
At the same time, on the deck of the Poor Bitch, rows of spread-out pelts emitted a thick, nauseating stench.
Although Mojave had expected the pelts to start rotting, the speed of decay in the tropical environment still exceeded his imagination. The moment his mercenaries untied the ropes binding the stacks of hides, a sharp, foul odor flooded the deck.
It was like opening an entire container of fermented herring at once, so strong that even the toughest awakener staggered back.
But Mojave had no time to care. To stop the pelts from further rotting, he endured the churning in his stomach and urged the retreating mercenaries to spread them out and pour seawater over them bucket by bucket.
The method itself wasn’t wrong.
In the absence of salt, soaking and working pelts with seawater was a legitimate tanning technique. The saltwater could kill bacteria, prevent cracking, and clean off blood, sweat, and grease.
However, Mojave had underestimated both the poor condition of the goods and the ship’s waterproofing.
Instead of washing the stench away, the greasy, blood-mixed seawater seeped into the lower decks. Now the entire lower deck looked like a crime scene, covered in sticky grease and damp blood.
Seeing his beloved ship in such a state, Captain Song Haining was livid, his face flushed dark red. If not for the payment still waiting at Sivermoon Bay, he would have thrown Mojave and his cheap cargo overboard to feed the fish.
“I’ll say this one more time,” he snarled. “Once we dock, get this stuff off my ship immediately! We agreed on coal and iron, not this moldy garbage!”
“This isn’t garbage!” Mojave protested. “Do you know how much these sell for in the desert?! Especially in the northern Golden Lizard Kingdom, they’re even more popular than silk!”
“I don’t care!” Song Haining snapped. “This is outside the contract! You broke the terms! And my ship doesn’t carry perishables!”
“These aren’t perishables, it’s hide!”
“Enough!” the captain cut him off. “Don’t play word games! These were just skinned off animals!”
Mojave clasped his hands together, pleading. “Please, my friend, after this deal, I’ll clean everything spotless! No smell, I promise!”
“30,000 Dinars,” Song Haining snapped coldly. “And once we dock, get off my ship and stay off!”
“Deal!” Mojave nodded eagerly. “Just wait for me near French Fry Harbor on the return trip, ”
“Get lost!” the captain roared, trying to shove him away.
Meanwhile, watching from the neighboring ship, Tail and Roshan excitedly cheered.
“Oooh! Hehehehehehe, they’re fighting!”
“Go! Go!”
Hearing the commotion at the side, Song Haining paused mid-motion and looked over.
