Chapter 286. Remuneration and Ability

"It's been a while, Margaret. Come here, let's talk." Charles returned to the drawing board and started drawing once again.

Margaret looked hesitant, but she eventually started walking toward Charles.

"What happened to your face? Who did that?" Charles asked.

Margaret offered no answer. Her expression turned cold, and she sounded respectful as she said, "Governor Charles, was my display of sincerity not enough? If so, then we can renegotiate terms once I've reclaimed Whereto."

Charles looked away from the drawing board and cast his gaze upon Margaret. He examined her from top to bottom before ripping off the first page attached to the drawing board.

The paper depicted a pencil sketch of a ship's deck. A young girl was standing on the deck, and her hands were full of food. The slaves in front of her were eating the food she had snuck into her pocket with relish.

The young girl's eyes shimmered with innocence; she looked as pure as an angel.

"I prefer the past version of you more than the present you. She's more beautiful, not just on the outside," Charles said.

Margaret's heart stirred as she stared at her former self in the piece of paper. She trembled ever so slightly as she stepped forward and said, "Governor Charles, what do I have to do so that you'll lend me your ships? I saved your life by rescuing you from the streets; isn't that enough of a favor for you to lend me your fleet?"

Charles walked up to Margaret and stared right into her eyes.

He could see something familiar in Margaret's gaze. It was something he once had—an obsession—an extreme obsession to achieve something at all costs.

Charles patted her shoulder and said, "Don't worry. I'll lend you my fleet and my crew. I'm just hoping that you'll one day face what's inside you and hopefully overcome it. Otherwise, it'll ruin you. You'll experience despair worse than death."

Crack!

A cracking noise audible only to Margaret echoed. However, the harrowing scenes depicting the deaths of her family members quickly repaired the crack.

Margaret's shoulders trembled, and she gently pushed Charles away.

An agitated look suffused her visage as she took out a dagger and sliced her arm, splashing blood onto the floor. Margaret then proceeded to fish out multiple tiny black stones from her arm.

As Charles reeled from shock, Margaret swiftly sliced his right palm open and stuffed the black stones inside of his palm. Then, Margaret explained, "The Cavendish Family never begs others for their help. I saved your life, but it seems that favor was insufficient for you to lend me your fleet, so those stones are yours from now on.

"They should be enough to pay for your entire fleet."

With that, Margaret turned around and left without waiting for Charles' reply.

Charles looked down at his palm and saw that it was healing at a speed visible to the naked eye. He was confused.

What's wrong with this girl? What is the meaning of this?

Charles soon realized that he didn't really understand Margaret.

It was true that he had saved her from the horrible fate that would have befallen her in Sottom, but he hadn't really communicated with her that often after that incident. In other words, he had never really gotten to know her.

Charles had decided to show her goodwill upon hearing that she had once saved his life, but it seemed that she didn't appreciate it.

Charles looked up and stared at her departing figure, but he decided not to chase after her.

After a while, Charles snapped his fingers.

A mouse hugging a half-eaten sugar cube rushed out of the shadows. Charles wrote something on a piece of paper before folding it up and handing it over to the mouse.

"Give this to Feuerbach. Tell him to lend Margaret a fleet to conquer the Isle of Whereto," Charles said.

The mouse let out a couple of high-pitched squeaks before scampering away with the piece of paper in its mouth.

"What did she put into my hand?" Charles took out his Dark Blade and attempted to slice his palm open to dig the stones out. To his surprise, however, the blade slid along the lines of his palm and only managed to cut open a tiny scratch.

It even failed to draw blood.

"What?" Astonished, Charles hacked at his palm, and the Dark Blade finally managed to draw a trace of blood. Charles hadn't even taken a good look at it yet when it healed up, thanks to his powerful regeneration ability.

Eventually, Charles managed to wound himself enough to dig out the tiny black stones out of his palm. His gaze alternated between the stones and his blade as he sank into deep thoughts.

When his wound healed, he slashed at his palm once again; this time, his defensive power had clearly taken a hit. Blood splattered everywhere as he had almost obliterated his palm.

Charles stood in the sunlight and held the tiny black stones up to the sun with his prosthetic limb to scrutinize them. "I think these things can increase one's defenses..."

Charles suddenly recalled Governor Daniel. The latter had boldly ignored a myriad of guns pointed at him in all directions. It seemed these tiny black stones had given him the confidence to do that.

Charles stuffed the tiny black stones back into his palm and decided to test the changes that the tiny black stones would bring to his body. It didn't take Charles long to discover multiple changes.

First of all, Charles' skin would remain as tough as iron so long as the tiny black stones were inside of him. Even sharp relics like the Dark Blade could only harm him if enough force were put into swinging the blade.

It also displayed formidable defenses against firearms; being hit by a bullet would only leave a slight dent.

The second ability Charles had discovered was strength amplification.

Charles looked left and right before walking up toward a nearby coconut tree. He clenched his right hand into a fist and punched the tree with all of his might. The tree trunk that had connected with his fist was obliterated, and the tree collapsed with a loud bang.

The noise instantly attracted the attention of the nearby islanders, but they immediately looked away upon seeing an individual standing unscathed beneath the sunlight.

The respected Governor of Hope Island was the only one capable of standing beneath the sunlight. The followers of the Light God said that it was a blessing that the Light God had bestowed upon Charles for finding the Land of Light.

Charles cast a shocked gaze at his arm. He was hardly lacking in strength, and it was all thanks to the Clown Mask that had strengthened his physique to the limits of humanity.

However, the tiny black stones had allowed him to break through that limit and reach the realm of superhumans. It wouldn't be an understatement to call him a humanoid tank.

Charles was satisfied with Margaret's remuneration. In fact, the tiny black stones were so valuable that even giving her an entire fleet wouldn't be enough to purchase them.

Charles decided to visit Margaret to ask more questions about the tiny black stones, but he came to a halt upon taking two steps. Margaret's decision to hand over the tiny black stones was akin to her severing their relationship.

If he went over to her, things would only become awkward between the two of them.

"I hope she can make the right decision by herself..." Charles muttered to himself before walking over to the canvas. He picked up his paintbrush to start painting, but the paintbrush let out an audible crack and split into three sections.

Charles stared blankly at the broken paintbrush and smiled wryly. It seemed that he needed to dedicate some time to getting used to his new strength.

Charles lost all interest in painting after inadvertently destroying his paintbrush, and he packed his things up to head back. He had decided to get used to his strength first before anything else.

Otherwise, the world would run out of paintbrushes.

Charles walked into the shaded area of the island, and the nearby islanders moved swiftly to clear a path for him. They cast admiring and respectful gazes in his way, but Charles was too lazy to greet any of them.

He started making his way to the Governor's Mansion.

The Governor's Mansion had a training ground and a drawing room located behind it. Charles reckoned that the training ground and the drawing room full of equipment would allow him to quickly adapt to the sudden increase in strength.

As Charles walked briskly toward the Governor's Mansion, a child's voice echoed from his side. "Mommy, look! It's that one-armed lunatic loitering around our house's doorway back then!"