Most of Oozing was a floating, decaying village over a dead coral reef hidden in a secluded bay. A chaotic assortment of wooden shacks housing all kinds of malefactors and their miserable lifes. The rest, known as the business district, was a tangled maze of narrow alleys over a desiccated swamp where all dubious activities took place. There were exceptions, of course, like greengrocers, carpenters or other people who had decided to be useful, but between them, if there was someone with the skills of healing, they were nowhere to be found.

Ivy jumped on the planks scattered over the mud with ease, and yet, her feet were soaked with dark goo by afternoon. It was a sticky crap she truly wished it was just water and soil when a drunk decided to relieve himself in the middle of the street.

Holding back the rush she approached the next crossroad, taking advantage of a slow and faked struggle to observe the next alley. Like others she had left behind, this one was filled with taverns and consequently, drunken rants and brawling thugs lingering everywhere. The opposite way, although promising, had a barrel of liquor at its centre, and a couple of idiots were mouthing either friendly drinking invitations or deadly threats.

Taking a deep breath to regain strength, courage, and hope, she ventured into her last option: A narrow alley with painted signs of spools of thread and clothing.

The trip to Kings End had been an endless nightmare of constant rowing and little rest. As Ivy caught a glimpse of the island, Em's condition worsened, and by the time they reached a secluded beach on the opposite side of the inhabited area, her uncle had already lost consciousness. Driven by desperation, Ivy abandoned her plan to enter at night. Instead, wasting no time, she carefully placed her uncle under a makeshift canopy of branches before embarking on a daring journey through the jungle under the shroud of darkness. Thanks to her unnatural sight, the passage through the dense forest was somewhat easier for her than it would have been for anyone else. However, malnourished and utterly exhausted, the trek took far longer than necessary. As a result, she reached not during the early morning hours, when most troublemakers would still be nursing their hangovers but instead right past noon, precisely when the seedy were gearing up for another day of debauchery.

She was far from scared, but a fight would take precious time and also compromise her concealment, a desire to go unnoticed that in a place like this was nothing more than an illusion.

As she stepped into the seamstresses' street, two sailors, barely able to stand, stumbled out of an entrance just as a column of water soaked them. "Stupid whores!" slurred one of them, his voice muffled, and his fist wobbling. Ivy sidestepped to avoid the two soaked drunks staggering from side to side. While keeping a watchful eye on them, she felt a small bump on her leg. "Sorry, sorry," said a young kid, pretending to have accidentally tripped. When two equally younger boys closed by pretending to pass a hunting stalk for a timid hesitation, Ivy confirmed her suspicion that the first one had already dipped into her pocket. Reacting quickly, she grabbed the blackboard hanging around her neck and scribbled while keeping an eye on the three ruffians. "There's no coin where you’re looking for. But if you tell me where the town quark is, I'll get you a copper." The closest kid grimaced, and his two companions huddled closer, scanning the street thoughtfully.

A woman from a shop front window yelled. “Ye, rascals, shush! Shush!” The kids rushed to hide in a gab between two houses and the yeller leaned over the frame, releasing a long, deep puff. “Ye stupid, girl? Thos are more dangerous than any old dog round’here. And ye walkin’ lone in noman’s alley, braggin’ ye loaded? damn…” the woman snapped her teeth and wiped her bloody hands. “A minute more and ye lain’ on the mud with yer guts out.”

Ivy wiped the board to write a thanks and took a step before the woman spoke again. “Tell ye wat. Toss me that silver, and I tell’ya where two go.”

Reluctant to part with some of the money she needed, she reached for the secret pocket and reached to deliver a coin over a reddened hand. The stench of carnage from behind that window stung her delicate sense of smell.

The woman made a face upon receiving payment and shouted to the inside before returning to the conversation. "Raymond’s oil shop. The girls are often bitten and sick here, and he’s the only one carin’ neemore. Ye'know? The moth’s life’s a dangerous one."

“Raymond? like the Stingray?” Ivy raised the board with a lump in her throat. The stingray, one of the Piracy fingers, had crossed paths with Em in the past, and although she was very little when that happened, the very thought that he could somehow recognize her, made her blood run cold. “Any other qualified doctors in town?”

“Ha! Ye ain’t from here, eh? Indri slain’ the shaman and kidned the surgeon. Ray's no genius, but he’nough. tell’ya.” From the half opened door picked out the pale, malnourished face of a girl whose dress, like her, didn't touch a bar of soap in a long time. “Ye, Flea! Bring dis button to the Ray.”

Flea was quick to break into a run, and Ivy was barely able to keep up. Despite the foreboding fortune unfolding, her desperation drove her forward. Nothing would deter her. She was prepared to confront any obstacle, determined to find what she needed, and focused on returning to her uncle and escaping that dreadful place for good.

As Flea's pace finally slowed down, Ivy found herself standing in the corner of a secluded square, its cobblestoned floor enclosed by stone buildings adorned with moss-filled arches. Despite its gloomy and decadent appearance, the place exuded a sense of civilization that the slums she had rushed through could not achieve. Flea continued under the protection of the arcades, this time without haste, until they reached the further corner, where a large number of vases and colorful plants surrounded a large yellow outdoor on a white limestone wall painted with blue motifs. An oddity of beauty amongst a surrounding ugliness.

While Flea confidently crossed the mudroom, Ivy hesitated at the threshold. It was evident that the little girl had not led her to an oil shop as expected, but with limited options and exhaustion clouding her judgement, Ivy reluctantly crossed the curtain of beaded seeds with the sensation of stepping into the mouth of a beast grewing wilder.

“Flea!” said an extremely old man from one of the tables. "Come here to drink apple juice with uncle Junnar!" The girl trotted joyfully, climbed a chair and took a glass of something that Ivy doubted was suitable for someone her age.

“If you are a client, come later. The girls need to sleep. If you want a job, you are definitely hired.” The woman speaking from a corner was a southerner of hulking proportions, a friendly face and a sweet voice. ”Unless you have some crap that sticks, or a baby in the making, of course. This is the most respectable establishment around the Kings!”

Ivy quickly wrote a response, "I'm looking for Raymond. Only for medicine. It's urgent."

The woman sighed, lighting a long, thin pipe. "Pity. You have potential."

Junnar chuckled and affectionately caressed Flea's hair, who was mesmerised with her drink. "Raymond won't be available, Cherry. Last night was quite a crazy one."

"I know the man, old-timer," Cherry replied as she turned, her seat squeaking under the heavy load of her shifting. "Ray-mond! There's a cute young lady here looking for you!" Cherry yelled one more time and waved towards the tables. "Have a seat, it might take a while."

Ivy made a slow step to the nearby chair but refrained from sitting. She positioned herself against the wall to cover her back, keeping the exit within reach and her hand close to the sword's hilt. The brothel was welcoming and warm, and nothing in there but Junnar's little lecherous glares was even slightly worrying. Luckily for her challenged patience, Raymond didn’t delay much longer.

She was just a little brat last time Em met the pirate, and the sight of the half-naked man staggering on the stairs felt completely unexpected. Raymond was an extraordinarily tall and athletic figure, with well-proportioned muscles accentuated by a light-tanned, unblemished skin. His golden mane was adorned with braids and ribbons that he combed back continuously and his eyes, painted with an intense liner fading to shadow, fixated on Ivy with inquisitive power.

He crumbled down, clutching the railing tightly as he rubbed his face, releasing a loud, long snort. Reaching the floor without falling appeared like a miracle, and once there, he dropped his weight over a chair and propped his legs up on the table. “I must be dreamin’. Ain't man’s so lucky.”

“She's here for a doctor, not a lover,” Cherry said.

Raymond raised a finger over his big straight nose and shushed. He was a man who exuded graceful friendliness as well as menacing disarray. He rubbed his squared chin, smudging lip marks of red and rose even further. “You may not remember me, but I do remember your eyes, mutie-pie.”

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Self-assured, exuberantly charming and brimming with charisma. That was what Em and Ced always said of him. However, they never forgot to include mischief, treachery and deceit in his infamous descriptions. From all the stories she heard, Ivy couldn't help but wonder how he earned the nickname "Stinky," despite the pleasant scent of orange blossom and roses surrounding him.

He grinned, unfolding a white perfectly placed teeth. “And I can see the teachings of that jitterbug of Ced in you.”

“You must be mistaking me for someone-”

Ray grunted and pressed his eyes. “Stop that chalk already! We are no fools, mutie-pie. Just tell me what the tin-man needs and I’ll tell you what I want.”

"Medicine. For fever and bloody coughing."

Ray brows raised as Ivy's board lowered. "Coughing blood? Damn." Ray lowered his legs to rest the elbows on the table. His fingers intertwined and his chin slowly rested on top of them. "This is what you must do. Bring him here before he dies. I'll take care of him, and as a payment, you both will surrender to me."

Ivy motioned to leave when Ray raised suddenly. "Wait, wait!" She jumped to the side, reaching for the wall for back cover and drawing the sword’s forte to discourage any approaching attempts from the front.

"Easy, easy! Mermaid," Ray said, raising the palms of his hands.”The very few of my men Indri has not killed are sailing the channels with the very few ships she has not yet sunk. Everyone is looking for you for a very good reason. Let me explain and you'll definitely understand."

The sword returned to its stealth slowly, and Ivy wrote without looking at the board. "I doubt it. Sell me the meds and I'll leave."

“Come, I need to show you something important.” Ray said while letting Junnar put a long, red coat over his shoulders. On Ivy's return to the sword as he dragged his feet around the room, he reacted with a snap of his teeth. "I can barely stand after last night's efforts. And my fella here is like, I don't know, hundred years old? We all hear the whispers about the merfolk girl. Tougher than any blade and faster than any bullet." He hoisted a chair over his shoulder as if it were a sack of goods and continued with his overplayed mockery and exaggerated flattery.

"Definitely capable of taking all of us down, indeed. Then? Storm the town, find my shop and loot all the meds you can find? Disappear without trace in the thickness of the jungle? I'm sure you can do that and more. Uh? Then what? feed Em with everything you gathered and poison him with who knows what? Set sail until he chokes on his own blood? Play hide and seek with my ships while the old man rots on your deck? You need me as much as we need you.”

"You don't need me. You want to take us to the Kraken."

"To Indri to be exact. Yes. And if you let me explain, you'll understand why."

"Nothing you say will change my mind."

The curtain bits rattled while Ray shouted from mudroom. “I’m a pretty convincing fella, now come!”

It was no surprise that Ivy wouldn't go unnoticed in a place like the Oozing. She had already anticipated the danger. Though she had hopes of success, she mentally prepared herself for a chase or even a fight, and even considered the probable outcome of being caught. However, it never crossed her mind of encountering Ray. She contained her shock with the ease of exaustion, and although it was strange how easily he recognized her, what really was taking her aback was none of his minions had attempted to assault her yet. This left her with a lingering suspicion it was undoubtedly happening as she’d leave the brothel.

Surprisingly, no attack ensued. The square, which had been empty and soaked in dripping rain upon her arrival, was now a vast puddle gradually drying under the sun. People scurried around like bugs after a storm, splashing through the puddles without concern for their soiled shoes. The few that Ivy noticed armed, all old and decrepit like Junnar, hovered around Ray, who had settled with his chair right in the middle of the opening.

Ivy moved cautiously, her hand at the ready and her feet adjusting with every step to hold her defence in case pistols were raised or sabres were drawn. "Keep touchin’ that sword makes my men nervous." Ray said as she arrived.

She shrugged, but Ray didn't seem to notice. His attention was fixed on a small wooden platform where some were rigging a rope over a crossbeam. With a clap of his hands, a beaten man was soon dragged towards the gallows and placed on a chair. "Are you tough enough to watch a hangin', mutie-pie?" Ray glanced, unfolding a malevolent grin.

Ivy gloomed, not letting her guard down before the few, but more than enough, men trickling around to stay. She had seen men die. She’d seen stabs, and shots. She had heard cries and begs for mercy. But there was something about a hanging that was always stuck in the mind forever. Whether it was the despair in the last moments, or the kicking of the hanging legs, she wasn't sure. Maybe it was the moans and gurgles, but whatever it was, if someone had even a small part of their soul clean, the struggle to hide repulsion from it was always obvious.

She didn't turn. She didn't move. That was what Ray expected. What he wanted to rejoice with. From the moment the hangman pushed the chair to the last grout of the dying man, she witnessed the suffering hiding her disgust under a face of indifference.

“Tough one, ain’t her, ma’boy?” Ray said.

Junnar dragged closer, followed by Flea, who was munching on a piece of salty fish with lifeless eyes. “Maybe,” the old geezer said. “But that dog stabbed one of the girls. It’s a pretty enjoyable sight if they deserve it.”

"True." Ray snapped his fingers and the hanged man gave way to a sobbing woman. "All the town dwellers are former inhabitants of your kingdom. Aye, believe it or not, in the thousand kings there are more raiders than pirates. They row to your maze and ravage your islands.” Ray halted the next finger snap over his head. “The ones sold here are lucky. I buy them before they end up in the Red island slave markets. I take care of them and they work freely for me. It’s been like that since Indri conquered us. Why are you over there, Agarne?"

Agarne mumbled softly, triggering a squirm from Ray. “I cannot hear you! Louder!”

“I stole a loaf of bread.” she said.

“Why?” Ray asked, as his eyes returned their malice towards Ivy.

“I was hungry. I am so so-”

Ray’s fingers snapped, and the chair dropped. Agarne, like the man before her, took a long, excruciating time to die. Ivy looked down, hiding her discomfort as she wrote. "What is your point Raymond? I'm in a hurry."

“Since Indri took over, all of them are starving. She takes a big chunk of our earnings and plunders. And not only that! She takes all the new slaves with her. But, she promised, if any of us finds you, we will have our island back. Fully as it was.”

“Sorry Raymond, But I cannot do that. I promise the Kingdom will get-”

Ray stood and waved his arms in disdain. “Oh, stop it! You didn’t get my point! Finas, Finas, come here!”

A young limping lad carrying a basket of fruits rushed towards them with a commitment his eyes opposed deeply. “Have you ever done anything that displeases me?” Ray said.

“Oh no, my lord. I promise!” mumbled Finas, who looked around terrified. Ray, smirked, and with a rapid move, took a flintlock hidden in his back and pulled the trigger.

Finas dropped as fast as his basket over an increasing pool of blood.

Ivy unsheathed her sword, as did other weapons around. Muzzles rose as did her iron. Following another snap of fingers and like if she was a body without a soul, Flea approached Ray, who squatted to grab her arm. Hidden from behind her little body only one of his darkened eyes and half of his hideous grin showed. “I take care of these people like a farmer takes care of his draft horse. A malnourished or sick beast will not plow the field, so you care for it, aye? But if the animal breaks, You kill it!”

Junnar took the smoking gun and gave Ray a folding knife. “I care about what my whores and innkeepers earn, but I'd rather see this dunghill burn to the ground than leave that harpy-brat to enjoy its fruits one more day! So, let's throw away that sword, embrace the shackles and bring me to Em so that I can keep him alive until delivery. Or else, I'm going to skin each and every one of these maggots! Starting with this pretty little girl. Do-you-understand, mutie-pie? I’ll give you a three.”

Ivy's grip tightened and the load of her weight drifted to the rare leg. Ready to charge. Ray's knife, almost as if he had guessed the upcoming attack, approached the girl's neck. "I'll give you a two."

Ivy gritted her teeth, unable to stop a stare into Flea's empty eyes, who didn't seem to understand what was happening. Ray’s hand raised and gripped the girl's hair, pulling to the side so his blade could caress the soft skin of the neck. “I'll give you a one!”

The steel rang loudly as Ivy’s sword bounced off the cobblestones. Her arms dropped as did her last bit of hope. The will to keep fighting faded with her hands being bound in manacles a hung woman no longer needed. “Not so tough, after all,” Junnar scoffed.

"Well," Ray said, patting Flea's head gently. "I'm a really convincing fella."