Why does he rise so effortlessly, while I'm stuck as a mere combatant?

Lying back in his personal quarters with arms behind his head, the siren simmered with resentment.

We joined at the same time. The only thing he has over me is strength.

This raid on the merchant convoy should have been my shining moment. I was the one who suggested we return immediately, yet the captain listened to him instead and took a detour to the Sea of Mists.

The Sea of Mists—an ocean at the edge of the world.

Its waters are shrouded in perpetual fog, where every compass fails to point true. No matter the direction you sail, you'll eventually leave the foggy expanse, never reaching whatever lies beyond.

Legends claim that the mists are remnants of an ancient spell, cast to imprison humanity.

But such tales don't matter. What matters is the sea's value.

Occasionally, treasures from another world drift into its waters. Or, more specifically, from the human world.

It's said humans have a unique mastery over magical techniques, embedding them even into their everyday objects. Sometimes, the right find can fetch an unimaginable price.

Yet salvaging the Sea of Mists is a gamble. Most of the time, you come up empty-handed—or worse, you haul in worthless junk. And in the worst-case scenario, you face the cursed Kern tribe, risking your ship and crew.

But this time… someone hit the jackpot.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Yes, that bastard managed to pull a human out of the Sea of Mists.

This wasn't just a triumph—it was a goldmine. If they could sell this human, the profit would be astronomical. Enough to never raid another ship again, enough to live a life of unfathomable luxury.

After all, with the vampires starving for blood, a healthy human was already worth a fortune. A human from beyond the mist? Unimaginable.

"Damn it, why is it always him?"

The siren clenched his teeth in frustration.

I can live without money, but watching him rake it in? That, I can't stomach.

His brooding was interrupted.

"Trouble! There's chaos in the cargo hold!"

The first order from the deck was immediate: all hands were to assemble topside and suppress the revolt.

He stayed in his quarters, lounging lazily. It wasn't his problem.

After all, the captain had explicitly left the first mate—his rival—to guard the ship. From the moment the captain made that choice, he knew chaos was inevitable.

A human was worth more than the rest of the cargo combined. With that kind of fortune aboard, no crew of cutthroats could resist.

Once the other crew members had cleared out, the siren finally stirred. He donned his armor, grabbed his trident, and began a slow, deliberate stroll toward the hold.

The clamor from the deck above was a distraction, a classic misdirection. Any moment now, someone would attempt to smuggle the human off the ship.

Not that it mattered. With the captain gone and the first mate occupied, there were few on this vessel who could stand against him.

Grunts will always be grunts. No matter how many of them there are, they're just cannon fodder.

What interested him, though, was who dared to stage this heist.

"…'

But when he reached the cargo hold, it wasn't what he expected.

There was no mob, no band of conspirators.

Just chaos—and her.

A small figure stood amidst the disarray. Cloaked, her long braid cascading down her back.

Even through the grime, her beauty shone—a flawless complexion, eyes like onyx, sparkling like polished gemstones.

For a fleeting moment, she reminded him of a certain courtesan among their past cargo. But this one? She was something else.

Premium stock.

His pupils dilated as he took her in.

A human.

If he could capture her, his fortune would be made.

Forget rivalries. Forget promotions. This one sale could buy him the life of his dreams.

And so, gripping his trident tightly, he stepped forward, his mind consumed with greed.