Raani’s face did something complicated, and Jake could see her wrestling with the urge to argue versus the understanding that he was right.

"At least wait until you’re fully healed," she said finally.

"I will," Jake agreed.

"A few more days of rest. Then I want to look at A-rank and higher missions."

By the third day, Jake’s body had recovered enough that he could move around the villa without assistance, the bloodline regeneration having closed the worst of his wounds and reduced the rest to manageable soreness. The sling came off his arm. The bandages around his torso were reduced to just covering the deepest cuts. He felt stronger than he had before the dungeon, his bloodline humming with power that felt more accessible, more responsive, as though nearly dying had taught it something about efficiency.

He returned to the guild office on the afternoon of the fourth day, ignoring Raani’s concerned protests and Chelsea’s resigned acceptance.

The main hall was busy with the usual afternoon crowd, and Jake noticed more people watching him now than had been paying attention during his first visit.

Word of the solo A-rank clear had spread, and the watching had shifted from curious to assessing, other adventurers measuring him with the attention of people who were recalibrating their understanding of what the Raikarndel heir was capable of.

Jake moved to the mission boards and headed directly for the higher-rank postings, scanning B-rank and A-rank contracts with the focused attention of someone looking for specific criteria.

He needed combat that would push his limits. He needed situations where his Serpent King abilities could develop further. He needed—

His hand reached for a posting at the same moment someone else’s did.

Their fingers touched the paper simultaneously, and Jake looked sideways to find a woman in her early forties looking back at him with an expression of mild amusement and zero intention of backing down.

She was striking in a way that had nothing to do with youth and everything to do with the particular confidence that came from years of knowing exactly who you were and being completely comfortable with that knowledge.

Tall, broad-shouldered, built like someone who spent most of their time doing physical work, with sun-darkened skin and grey-streaked dark hair pulled back in a practical braid. She wore adventurer’s gear that was well-maintained but clearly seen extensive use, leather and reinforced fabric designed for function over appearance, and her hands when they touched the posting showed calluses that spoke to weapons training and manual labor in equal measure.

Her eyes were sharp and green and currently assessing Jake with the same calculating attention he was directing at her.

"Interesting choice," she said, her voice carrying the roughness of someone who spent a lot of time shouting orders over wind and waves.

"Not many people go for pirate suppression missions. Too much risk, not enough guarantee of payout."

Jake looked at the posting properly now, reading the details that had caught his attention.

[PIRATE SUPPRESSION - B-RANK MISSION]

[TARGET: PIRATE QUEEN ELISABETH - OPERATING IN BAY OF BAENIL]

[OBJECTIVE: CAPTURE OR ELIMINATE PIRATE FLEET LEADERSHIP]

[REWARD: 500 GOLD + PERCENTAGE OF RECOVERED CARGO]

[RECOMMENDED PARTY: 6-8 CLASS II MINIMUM]

[SPECIAL NOTE: TARGET POSSESSES RARE MAGIC ITEMS AND UNKNOWN ABILITIES]

The posting included a sketch of the target that had been drawn from witness descriptions, a woman’s face rendered in enough detail that Jake could make out her features—sharp and angular, with eyes that looked amused even in a wanted poster and hair styled in a way that seemed familiar, though he couldn’t immediately place why.

And then he could.

He didn’t register what the woman said, as he was too focused on the poster.

The recognition hit him with the force of seeing something from his first life appear unexpectedly in his second one.

That face, those features, the particular way the artist had captured her expression—he knew that face.

And it was not from this world.

From the other one. To be precise, from the magazines and news reports and the kind of fame that crossed international borders.

She had been someone famous in his first world.

That face had belonged to someone notable enough that Jake’s first-life memories had filed it in the category of people-everyone-knows-about.

Which meant she was like him.

Another agent. Another reincarnated soul brought to this world by a god and given a second chance at life.

And she’d become a pirate queen.

Jake looked back at the woman whose hand was still touching the posting alongside his.

"You’re going after her," he said.

"I am," the woman confirmed.

"I’ve been tracking her fleet for three months. This is the first time the guild has posted a formal mission on her, which means she’s gotten bold enough to threaten major trade routes. Perfect timing for someone who’s been waiting for official sanction to move against her."

"Alone?" Jake asked.

The woman smiled, showing teeth. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"I have a crew of my own. But if you’re interested—"

She gestured at the posting. "—you can join me and we can move faster and get in and get out before she moves locations again."

Jake considered this with the quick, organized part of his mind that was already running calculations.

A pirate queen operating in the Bay of Baenil was sixty-nine miles from Roakan, which meant several days of travel by road or ship. The mission was rated B-rank, but the unknown abilities notation suggested it could scale higher depending on what the target actually possessed.

The reward was substantial enough to be worth the risk, and more importantly, if the pirate queen really was another agent from his world, engaging with her might provide information he couldn’t get anywhere else.

"What’s your name?" he asked.

"Captain Nailer," the woman said.

"You’re Jake Raikarndel, the newly returned heir who just cleared Ghoul Sanctum solo and nearly died doing it."

She said this without judgment, just stating facts.

"Word travels fast in the guild."

"It does," Jake agreed.

"So?" Nailer gestured at the posting.

"Are you interested in hunting pirates with me?"

Jake thought about the pirate queen’s face in the sketch, about the possibility of meeting another agent from his world, and about the combat experience he would gain from engaging with someone who possessed unknown abilities and had survived long enough to build a pirate fleet.