Reborn As a Pirate - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Revenge Time!
Driven by an unyielding desire for strength, Ryan felt a compelling urge to re-enter the “travel place”, a mystical vertical realm accessible only through system panel found within his consciousness.

Peering inward, Ryan glimpsed the “small sailing raft,” a figment that floated in the depths of his mind. The raft, once attached to the enigmatic [Unknown Ship Sculpture], had capsized amidst a torrential downpour and turbulent waves, its whereabouts now lost to the void. The raft had drifted too far from Ryan’s psychic reach, severing the [Attachment] function. Eager to reengage the [Travel] function, Ryan knew he must find a new vessel for his journey.

Surveying the dim cabin, his eyes settled on a potential substitute, a rectangular wooden box lying unassumingly in the corner.

Given the constraints of the [Attachment], limited to objects no larger than one hundred cubic meters, Ryan felt the pressure of his predicament aboard the [Black Rose]. Although not explicitly “cursed” by Captain Freni, Ryan was acutely aware that any attempt to flee would likely end disastrously if he were caught.

With escape an unlikely option, Ryan required nothing large or conspicuous; a modest attachment would suffice for his needs. The wooden box, unremarkable yet perfectly sized, seemed an ideal choice.

Even reimagined as a raft, the transformed box would not exceed modest dimensions. Once ensconced beneath his wooden bunk and shrouded by miscellanea, it would escape any prying eyes.

As the [Unnamed Ship Sculpture] initiated attachment, the wooden box morphed before Ryan’s eyes into a crude mini raft. It was a simple construct, merely a basic body with oars, devoid of sails, and measuring scarcely half a meter. It was just enough for Ryan to balance upon.

Content with his handiwork, Ryan concealed the newly fashioned mini raft under his bunk, camouflaging it with scattered debris.

He turned his attention to the control panel, where the [Travel] function remained frustratingly inactive, shaded out. With a resigned sigh, Ryan murmured to himself, “Let’s try again at midnight.”

His gaze then drifted to the iron sword mounted on the cabin wall, a silent sentinel in the dim light.

Alongside the long sword, a robust round shield with an iron rim leaned against the wall. This cabin, once belonging to the pirate ship’s second mate, was adorned with such martial relics.

As third-in-command, it was customary for the second officer to possess an array of backup armaments. Ryan, taking advantage of the provisions, unlatched the long sword and brandished it, acquainting himself with its balance and heft before delving into the rigorous maneuvers of the storm sword technique.

This particular style of swordplay was his lifeline in the perilous “Trial Ground.” While the panel did not indicate the mastery needed for advancement, Ryan knew that honing his skills was beneficial. His last encounter using a long sword against a formidable beach crab in the last virtual simulation had significantly bolstered his confidence in the storm swordsmanship. With persistent practice, he was convinced that enhancing his skill level was inevitable.

The mention of “Thorn Sword Skills (Mastery)” associated with the valiant female knight Cecilia filled Ryan with an unshakeable drive. Although unclear about the exact stages between “beginner” and “proficient,” the mere existence of such levels suggested they were attainable through relentless effort.

Time slipped away as Ryan immersed himself in his sword practice. Devoid of any means to track time precisely, he occasionally checked the panel to determine if the [Travel] function had reactivated.

After what felt like an eternity, a habitual glance at the panel revealed the transformation of the black [Travel] text into an accessible gray. A surge of exhilaration washed over Ryan’s face.

“It’s finally working,” Ryan exclaimed, his voice a whisper of relief.

Quickly tidying up the space, he returned to the wooden bed, lying down to craft the illusion of peaceful slumber. This way, should anyone intrude during his absence, they would find him seemingly asleep.

With everything in place, Ryan didn’t hesitate.

“[Travel], let’s begin!” he commanded, poised to embark on another journey into the unknown.

The familiar sensation of swiftly ascending enveloped Ryan once more, though this time, the vast expanse of his spiritual sea did not unfold before him.

As the encompassing darkness dissipated, his vision clarified, revealing the scene of an isolated island before him. Beneath his feet, the small sailing raft had shrunk even further, now just a half-meter in length, barely spacious enough for him to maintain his balance.

Standing on such a diminutive platform was almost comical. Ryan, with a stoic expression, extended his hand in front of him, summoning a gray interface that listed basic equipment options.

With 30 spirit points, he promptly acquired a new set of essentials, a long sword, a log shield, and leather armor. His previous gear had succumbed to the onslaught of four giant beach crabs during their last encounter.

This time, he was determined for retribution. His eyes narrowed with resolve.

Stepping off the minuscule raft, a rush of vitality greeted him, and the world around became vivid and enchanting. Yet, as Ryan surveyed his surroundings, he noted the absence of any beach crab silhouettes along the shore.

“Could it be that each beach crab maintains its own territory, and since the last one was vanquished, no others have claimed this space?” Ryan pondered silently.

With the path to the beach crab’s lair etched in his memory, he advanced cautiously. Determined to avoid another ambush, he vigilantly scanned the area, ensuring no signs of the crustaceans.

He halted only when he reached a point two hundred meters from the crab’s nest on the beach. Then, a large and familiar shape loomed into view once again.

“I found you!” Ryan declared, his voice a mix of challenge and anticipation.

A hint of icy determination flickered in Ryan’s eyes.

He knew all too well that although his traveling clone wouldn’t truly perish, the agony experienced before its demise would be just as intense as real pain. The memory of the crushing pain from the crab’s pincers was vivid in his mind.

After a meticulous sweep of the area, Ryan confirmed there were no other beach crabs nearby. It seemed that to sustain their massive forms, these creatures scattered across the island to forage under favorable weather conditions, providing Ryan the chance to tackle them one at a time.

Opting for caution, Ryan decided against engaging in battle near its lair. He stooped to pick up a pebble, gauging its weight in his palm before hurling it with a swift “whoosh.” The stone landed with a soft thud two meters away from the giant beach crab.

“Ahem,” Ryan coughed deliberately, masking the unintended miss due to the distance and his lack of throwing skills.

Though his aim was off, the pebble served its purpose well, drawing the attention of the beach crab. Alerted by the noise, the crab rotated its bulky frame and spotted Ryan in the distance. With a haughty, crab-like swagger, it charged towards him.

Ryan turned on his heels and sprinted away, testing his enhanced speed. Referencing the crab’s pace, he noticed a significant 20% increase in his own running speed since achieving level 1, a noteworthy improvement considering the natural impediments like friction and air resistance.

Reflecting on this, Ryan surmised that if his speed had improved by such a margin, his strength and endurance were likely even more enhanced.

After covering more than a hundred meters, he halted and pivoted to face the oncoming beach crab. Sword gripped tightly and eyes blazing with a warrior’s spirit, he was ready.

This time, he was determined to confront the Beach Cancer head-on!