Treasure Hunting System： The Ocean Conquerer

A bird made up of blue lines was flying through the black night.

Its speed was incredibly fast, like a ray of light; with its faintly glowing lines, even if one noticed it in this pitch-black sea, it would be gone in a flash.

It had been gliding horizontally through the sky, when it suddenly dove downward.

At this very moment, on the pitch-dark surface of the sea below—

An exceptionally long and slender vessel was cutting through the waves, the calm water on each side splashing out as if slashed by a blade.

The whole ship was moving at a remarkable speed, clearly faster than the ordinary sailboats out at sea.

Perhaps it had something to do with the ship's appearance.

This narrow pirate ship was barely over 20 meters in length, with a width of only a few meters.

The ratio of length to width was clearly outside the normal range.

The slender hull carried three lofty masts, all rigged with horizontal sails.

The sails were black, marking their identity, and a small flag fluttered at the top, bearing a scythe piercing a skull.

This ship belonged to the Prayer for the Dead.

The bird woven from blue lines shot straight down, landing on one man's shoulder.

This was a man of sturdy build, with a scar running from the upper left of his forehead diagonally down to the lower right of his chin.

It split his face in two, making him look unusually fierce and terrifying, but it perfectly suited his role.

Looking at the bird on his shoulder, he seemed to be listening to something.

When the bird vanished, he spread out the map he had been holding tightly in his hand.

Using the light of the lighting stone beside him, he calculated the distance and figured out his current position.

After some calculation, he walked to the helmsman and said, "Head in this direction. There may be someone here the captain needs."

Hearing this, the helmsman—a relatively young pirate—nodded and turned the helm to the left.

Both hands gripping the wheel, he couldn't help but say, "Why are we changing course again? We've been sailing for days in this godforsaken pitch-black place."

"Stop complaining. If you don't want to die, just make sure you catch the target."

At the scar-faced man's words, the pirate curled his lips in contempt, then mocked, "Who knows what good it'll do even if we catch them? Might still end up hanged from the mast by the captain."

Hearing the pirate's disdainful tone, the scarred man didn't retort. Instead, he let out a sigh.

Of course he knew, but what choice did he have?

They were just weak pirates, after all. The strong prey on the weak, and might makes right.

"If only I could become a Toucher like you, big bro. Being a normal pirate means you could get killed by the captain any time—he's like a lunatic."

At his younger brother's words, the scar-faced man recalled his own life and shook his head helplessly. "It wouldn't help. Even as a Toucher, not much would change."

"Wasn't it his order to fire the cannons last time? Then he hanged everyone who fired. He's getting crazier and crazier."

Hearing his brother keep talking, and seeing those pirates in the distance working the sails, he couldn't help smacking the back of his brother's head.

"Enough. Shut it. Fine to complain to me, but say that anywhere else and even I can't save you."

Chastising his brother sternly, he resignedly sighed—a note of humanity that made him look slightly less terrifying than before.

Their captain was fine in every way, except for one flaw. But for them, that flaw was fatal.

He'd go mad at any moment, becoming like a different person, overflowing with rage. In those moments, he'd find any excuse to execute pirates who displeased him.

He clearly could kill at will, but insisted on having a reason.

The last time, he even killed all the pirates who had done well. Even someone as dim as he was knew that would shatter morale.

But the captain didn't care—neither the mad version nor the normal one.

There would always be countless people like him, longing to join this fearsome pirate gang.

And really, there was no reason for him to care, not when he held the treasure and wielded the team's greatest power.

Not to mention, even their powers had been given by the captain—their supernatural abilities that surpassed ordinary men.

It made them all feel a cut above, and the feeling of power was addictive.

"All right, let's move! Tell the crew to stay sharp."

"Who is this person, anyway? Why do we have to catch them no matter what? And if they're that important, why doesn't the captain come himself?"

The young helmsman couldn't hold back his question, Alka's face surfacing in his mind.

When they split off from the fleet, the captain had ordered everyone to memorize Alka's face.

He strongly suspected that this was the person they were chasing and why they'd come this way, planning a major raid.

After all, they had better options elsewhere.

It was important to note that in this direction lay the Holy Mother Church; if they angered it, things would get out of control fast.

They had waited on the border for a very long time to ambush their target.

All the main officers had joined in, but the mark had still gotten away.

No idea why, but for such an important target, the captain again decided not to come in person.

Hearing his brother's question, the scarred pirate couldn't help but recall the captain's bouts of madness.

"Drop it. Getting out at all at this time is already lucky."

He then hurried the pirates onboard, increasing the ship's speed.

Their course: the very island where Alka and his team were now.

...

"All right, it's done." Chadite handed the freshly drawn map to Alka.

The ink and paint hadn't yet fully dried.

Alka carefully took it from beneath, though even before Chadite had finished, the map was already usable.

Alka now roughly understood what a standard, usable map should look like.

First, the island's shape had to be accurate. Then, the locations of various landmarks inside had to be precise.

When Chadite had sketched out the general outline and roughly located key sites on the island, Alka could already use it.

Alka blinked.

Two dots of light appeared on the map.

Both were blue, with no other lights present.

It seemed the island's former inhabitants had indeed taken all their valuables with them when they left.

Over the years, anything left behind must have been looted by other treasure seekers.

Of these two points, one was likely the location of the Spell Ship.

Alka swept his hand across the map, examining it closely.

[Secret of Shipbuilding]

[Difficulty: Adult]

[Fame: 25]

[Treasure Information: The Ratmagan Clan has been shipbuilding for generations, a tradition dating back six hundred years and never interrupted.

Four hundred years ago, they began constructing Ghost Ships.]

Not a ship?

Judging by the name and description of the Treasure Information, it was clearly not a ship itself.

The Ratmagan Clan mentioned here was, in fact, the Hibroke family Chadite had spoken of.

So they'd specialized in shipbuilding for more than 600 years—a true shipwright lineage.

And four hundred years ago, they began building Ghost Ships. It seemed they were even more skilled than Chadite had suggested.

But Alka remembered Lucilia saying it took treasure to build a Ghost Ship.

He looked at the other blue dot—please let it be a ship.

[Flying Swallow of the Sea]

[Difficulty: Strongman]

[Fame: 25]

[Treasure Information: Four hundred years ago, the Ratmagan Clan acquired the knowledge for constructing Ghost Ships, but due to restrictions, they ultimately could only use that knowledge to build a Spell Ship.]

Perfect.

Seeing this Treasure Information, Alka couldn't help but smile.

It seemed this blue dot should be the very ship that was hidden away back then.

But noticing where the blue dot was, Alka's smile turned a bit embarrassed.

The ship was hidden at the very center of the island, virtually alongside the other blue dot—overlapping for almost half their space.

That meant they were in the same place.

He lifted his gaze from the map.

And looked at Chadite standing nearby.

"Where's Pororo?" Alka glanced out the door, not seeing the giant figure.

"He said he was hungry and went to catch some fish. Said he didn't know if there'd be any fish around here untouched by the dark."

After saying this, Chadite turned to Alka and asked, "So? What did you find with the map?"

Alka nodded. "I think I found where that family hid the Spell Ship you mentioned."

At his words, Chadite cocked her head and stared at him with confusion on her face.

What are you talking about?

She went over to look at the map she'd just drawn.

Not bad, really. Just that she'd lacked the right tools, conditions weren't ideal, and she hadn't investigated closely—so it wasn't perfect.

So the question arose.

Was there something special about this map she'd missed? Had she somehow drawn something crucial without even realizing it?

How did Alka know just by looking at her map?

She looked up at Alka, started to ask something, then swallowed her words.

Instead, she asked, "Where is it?"

Alka didn't really bother to hide anything, nor did he explain—he just pointed to the center of the map. "Here."

Chadite followed Alka's finger, frowning in thought.

After a moment she nodded. "That really is possible."

"Why do you say that?" Alka was puzzled; he'd never been there, he just knew the spot.

Why was Chadite so sure?

"When I was surveying the terrain with my pulses, I detected a large cave down below as I passed by that area.

It's common for there to be caves beneath an island, so I didn't pay much attention. But if you say a ship might be hidden there, then it makes sense."

So that was it.

At that moment, Pororo's voice came from outside, though he couldn't fit into the room due to his size.

A whiff of blood hit the air—he was holding a big, ugly fish, nearly two meters long.

"They have Black Water Fish here too. Want to try some?"

Black Water Fish were the same kind of fish Alka and his team had eaten before.

They'd been eating nothing but that stuff these few days.