Arcane: The Gods Want Me to Pick a Route-Chapter 147: I Don’t Care Whose Man You Play With, But If You Set Your Sights on Me…

Chapter 147: Chapter 147: I Don’t Care Whose Man You Play With, But If You Set Your Sights on Me...

"Who’s causing trouble?!"

Inside Black Firestone, a group of men showed up—one look at their outfits and you could tell they were Bilgewater gang types. The moment they appeared, the packed crowd parted, clearing a path.

Logan waved at Jinx, signaling her to come back to his side. Then he lifted his hand and started tossing Celia’s companions away one after another—sending them flying.

Jinx dusted off her hands, her face wearing that satisfied little look like she’d had a great time. But before she walked away, she still raised her boot and drove it hard into Celia’s stomach.

That one kick folded Celia on the floor like a shrimp, pain ripping a sound out of her throat.

Only then did Jinx clench her fists, puff out her cheeks, lean forward, and stomp back toward Logan with that exaggerated, cartoon-character kind of swagger, radiating pure irritation.

Logan looked at her, then at the woman writhing on the floor, and muttered, "Wasn’t that a little... too much?"

Jinx immediately bristled and shot him a look. "What—are you feeling bad for her?"

Logan laughed in disbelief. Ignoring the men approaching, he reached out and flicked Jinx on the forehead. "What are you even saying?"

"It’s all her fault anyway," Jinx snapped, crossing her arms in a defensive posture. "Logan, you didn’t see the way she looked at me when she came over. That bitch was provoking me on purpose. She had it coming!"

Yeah. It wasn’t her fault. It was that woman’s fault.

When Celia walked over, she’d been smiling, sure—but that smile was mocking. Like she was laughing at her, looking down on her.

And Jinx was supposed to just take that?

Jinx had changed a lot over the last couple of years. After she and Logan got together, she wasn’t so explosive about every tiny thing anymore. Before, if Logan so much as chatted happily with any girl, she’d bristle and blow up.

Because to her, Logan was hers. He shouldn’t be talking to anyone else.

But now she didn’t blow up over something like that. It wasn’t that she didn’t get jealous—she still did. It still felt awful. The difference was that she could endure it.

Jinx’s possessiveness and lack of security had finally found what she needed in Logan: safety. So she could swallow that discomfort.

Because Jinx was sure Logan would never leave her.

But this woman was different.

That look on her face was basically screaming, I’m going to take him from you. And her eyes were full of contempt.

You dare look down on me?

I’ll beat you to death.

Hmph. And this was Bilgewater—Jinx didn’t want to cause Logan trouble, so she held back. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been "just a beating." Vi beat people up.

Jinx just pulled the trigger.

The first time she met Isha, Isha was being chased by some Zaunites. Jinx hadn’t even asked why—she’d just turned around and fired a few shots, dropping them all on the spot.

She didn’t care what trouble came after. She didn’t care whether they had a reason to chase Isha. Kill first. Talk never.

You know why?

When a lunatic suddenly starts following rules, it’s not because she grew morals.

It’s because she finally has someone she cares about.

She only cares what that person thinks. She only cares whether it’ll affect that person. Everything else in this world? She doesn’t listen.

"So it’s you two making a scene?" The leader of the Bilgewater men was a bearded guy in a black hat. His left hand ended halfway up the forearm, replaced with an iron hook. He walked up in front of Logan and asked, "You outsiders?"

"Yeah, Mr. Rael, it’s them," one of Celia’s companions immediately blurted from the side.

Celia had dragged herself up from the floor too. Her eyes were bloodshot as she glared at Jinx, and yellow-green bile stained the corner of her mouth from where Jinx had hit her sick. She panted and forced out, "Mr. Rael, help me get justice. These two foreigners broke Bilgewater’s rules—and I was just trying to be friendly!"

Friendly?

Rael gave Celia a long, knowing look. Everyone in Bilgewater knew what kind of woman she was.

So when Rael saw the black-haired young man’s face and bearing, he understood what Celia had probably been trying to do. But understanding didn’t mean he was going to "do justice."

These two foreigners had broken Bilgewater’s rules, sure. And Celia was Bilgewater—so why would he not back his own people?

"Talk," Rael said. "Where are you from?"

He asked first instead of immediately putting pressure on them.

Because even facing his whole crew, these two were still calm. That surprised Rael—and made him wary.

In Bilgewater, money mattered less than power. But if you were from a major family, you still had to give proper respect, because it could affect business for the bigger sharks on the island.

Bilgewater needed money. This place was poor as hell.

So even though Rael had plenty of pull in the upper quarter, he wasn’t stupid enough to pick a fight with some powerful foreigners and wreck another boss’s outside deals. If he did that, it wouldn’t be strange at all for someone to slit his throat on a dark street and hang his body from a lamppost by morning.

He wasn’t afraid of foreign noble houses.

He was afraid of Bilgewater’s bosses—because who knew which of them had private deals with which families?

If he acted like an idiot over "Bilgewater rules" and offended the wrong people, he’d end up being the sacrifice offered as an apology.

Anyone who survived long enough to carve out territory in Bilgewater’s upper quarter wasn’t a fool.

Sure—backing Celia, defending Bilgewater’s rules, fine.

But only if the other side was meat you could carve.

In Bilgewater, "rules" were just something the powerful invented when it was convenient.

"Mr. Rael, why are you asking—" one of Celia’s companions couldn’t help but start.

Rael simply gave him a cold look, and the guy immediately shut his mouth and swallowed the rest.

Because if he said the wrong thing... once the BBQ festival ended, his life would too.

Logan looked at Rael, clocked him as the one in charge, and considered saying he was from Zaun and would be leaving Bilgewater in a few days—no desire to make trouble.

Logan wasn’t afraid of trouble, but he and Jinx were here to have fun. He didn’t want trouble.

But before he could speak, a voice suddenly cut through the crowd.

"Mr. Logan?"

The speaker was an older middle-aged man. He shoved his way out of the crowd, staring at Logan, rubbing his eyes like he couldn’t believe it. "What are you doing here?"

Rael saw him, froze for a beat, then bent forward respectfully. "Mr. Rog... you know him?"

Logan, meanwhile, looked at the newcomer with a grin and said, "Oh—Old Rog. Drop the ’sir’ stuff. Last time you saw me, you were calling me ’kid’ every other sentence. So what, you really are some pirate king now?"

Old Rog laughed. "Pirate king? I’m just the head of a merchant ship, that’s all. And back then... I was stupid. You let it go, and I didn’t even get the chance to properly thank you."

He immediately switched to a more familiar tone—less reverent, more like someone talking to a friend.

Old Rog was the same man who’d brought Logan back to Zaun months ago. He looked at Logan with open gratitude and said, "Because of your help, that smuggled cargo of mine sold clean. I gotta ask—why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Bilgewater? I would’ve hosted you properly. You’re my benefactor."

Then he glanced around. "And what the hell happened here?"

Where Old Rog stood was telling.

He was Bilgewater. He was a big name in the upper quarter.

But he planted himself in front of the two outsiders—and questioned Rael, another upper-quarter figure, like Rael was the one who’d crossed a line.

Nearby, Celia’s companions instantly went quiet, shrinking back, not daring to breathe too loudly.

Celia was even faster—she closed her eyes and "passed out" on the floor.

Rael hesitated, then said, "He started trouble in my tavern, Mr. Rog. The upper quarter doesn’t allow fighting. And today’s the BBQ festival."

Smack!

A slap cracked across Rael’s face.

Old Rog was thin and short—barely around five-two, at most—two whole heads shorter than Rael. But he still whipped a full-force slap into Rael’s cheek, his face twisted with rage as he shouted:

"You dumb bastard, Rael—do you even know who he is?!"

"Do you know who you buy your booze from?!"

"Do you know who sells the weapons on our ships, the medicine in your shops?!"

"Do you know how many people on this island are eating because of him?!"

Rael covered his face, staring blankly at Old Rog, then at Logan. Anger flashed in his eyes—but he kept his head lowered respectfully to Old Rog.

Inside, though, he was thinking: even if this guy was some Noxian noble brat, did Old Rog really have to do him like this?

That slap—how was Rael supposed to keep his name in Bilgewater after this?

But he didn’t dare explode.

Because his tavern business—no, the entire upper-quarter tavern scene—ran on Old Rog.

This little old man who used to bicker with Logan—joking, "If you’re the Lord of Zaun, then I’m the pirate king"—he looked like nothing but a broker, a trader.

But in reality, he was Bilgewater’s biggest alcohol supplier.

In Bilgewater, water wasn’t the source of life.

Alcohol was.

You could go without water, but you couldn’t go without booze. That was Bilgewater.

So Old Rog’s status here was sky-high.

Logan blinked, still not fully understanding what was happening. But the person beside him—Jinx—was having the time of her life.

Her small face flushed red, gripping Logan’s arm, her body trembling.

Oh.

This felt amazing.

Like being back in Zaun—no, Zaun didn’t even work like this anymore—but she loved this feeling anyway.

Logan didn’t really enjoy showing off. He was too gentle by nature.

Jinxie, though?

Jinxie loved showing off.

"If he hit someone, he had his reasons," Old Rog said sternly to Rael.

"But the one who hit her wasn’t him," Rael said after a beat. "It was the girl beside him."

Old Rog turned to Logan.

Logan wrapped an arm around Jinx and smiled. "Old Rog, let me introduce you. This is my fiancée. And she’s also Silco’s daughter."

Jinx gave Old Rog a cute little grin—sweet and pretty, the kind of smile that gave no hint she’d just smashed a bottle into someone’s face and stomped their head like a soccer ball.

Old Rog’s eyes sharpened.

"What?" Rael blurted, eyes wide. He stared at Jinx, then at Logan, his lips trembling as he forced out, "Y-You just said she’s whose daughter?"

"Silco," Logan said. "Silco of Zaun."

Logan finally understood—Old Rog was backing him.

And Logan also knew something else:

Bilgewater folks might not know who the Lord of Zaun was...

...but they absolutely knew the name Silco.

Even if Logan didn’t personally handle Zaun’s business and left it all to Silco, he still knew that a massive chunk of Zaun’s operations—Silco’s operations—were trading with Bilgewater.

Back when Zaun didn’t have Piltover’s fancy clients, it couldn’t sell to the world like Piltover could. Most of the "new trade city-states" Zaun dealt with were connections made through Piltover’s reputation over the last year.

But for decades, Bilgewater had been Zaun’s best partner.

In other words, plenty of the people under Silco had come straight from Bilgewater to work for him. He might live in Zaun, but in Bilgewater he still held tremendous influence.

Because the name Silco was Bilgewater’s money tree.

The big names in Bilgewater all had ties to Silco. They were all willing to give him face.

Logan hadn’t announced who he was because he’d planned to stay here only a short while, then leave. He didn’t want to reveal his identity just for convenience—because he and Jinx had snuck out. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

If they flashed their name on day one and Silco came chasing them with a crew on day two... what kind of "vacation" was that supposed to be?

As for Jinx—she genuinely didn’t know any of this.

And now, she blinked—and noticed Celia’s leg twitch a little on the floor.

Jinx sneered, rolled her shoulders, shrugged Logan’s arm off, and strode forward, passing Old Rog and Rael like they weren’t even there.

She stopped over Celia, lifted her boot, and aimed it at Celia’s arm lying on the floor.

"Get up," Jinx said coldly. "Bitch. I’m counting to three. If you don’t get up, I’m stepping on you."

She started counting—and on the very first number, her boot came down hard anyway.

"Three!"

"AAH!!" Celia screamed instantly. Her arm was pinned under Jinx’s boot against the floor. She grabbed at Jinx’s boot with her free hand, but she didn’t dare shove, didn’t dare hit Jinx’s leg—she could only howl in pain.

Logan watched quietly.

Old Rog leaned in close and murmured, "Your fiancée’s fierce."

"She is," Logan said. "She hits a little hard."

Before he could add I love it, Old Rog continued, "It’s fine. I know what that woman is. More than a few little nobles she targeted ended up completely wrecked. Her favorite thing is going after married men—doing it right in front of the wife, watching the wife’s face twist up in misery. And when she’s really in the mood, she’ll even force the wife to ’help’ the husband."

Logan stared at Old Rog, stunned. "You Bilgewater people are this wild?"

Old Rog laughed loudly. "We’re even worse than you Zaunites. And we’re poor, and we’ve got nothing. If all you can do is drink, then at night, that’s what takes center stage."

He was saying it plainly on purpose: there weren’t many good people in Bilgewater—him included.

Over the years, the number of crewmen Old Rog had thrown into the sea to feed sharks was easily in the hundreds.

That was how you lived here.

But Logan was different. With his background, nobody on the Isles dared touch him.

Not even Gangplank.

Gangplank might be the biggest pirate in Bilgewater, but the Isles were packed with other powerful factions. Maybe they couldn’t beat Gangplank alone—but what if they united for profit?

Gangplank wouldn’t be able to handle that many enemies.

And besides, Zaun wasn’t far from Bilgewater. Zaun’s muscle wasn’t weaker than Bilgewater’s.

Up ahead, Jinx kept one boot planted on Celia’s arm, one hand on her own lower back, bending down to look Celia in the eyes.

"Listen," Jinx said, calm and sharp, word by word. "I’m not stupid. I know what you are. And I don’t care who else’s man you play with."

"You could run through every man in the world, and it still wouldn’t be my business."

Her voice dropped colder.

"But how dare you set your sights on mine?"

Jinx stared down at her. "Do you want to die?"

"I was wrong—I won’t do it again," Celia hurriedly pleaded, turning her face away under the boot. "I’m sorry. I really didn’t know you were Mr. Silco’s daughter."

She regretted it. Truly.

From their clothes, from their numbers, she’d assumed they were just minor nobles—after all, they’d walked into Black Firestone alone, without even a single guard.

She’d watched for a long time before choosing her prey.

Who could’ve guessed this wasn’t some minor noble at all?

This was the money tree’s daughter.

Rael didn’t step in to stop it. He just stood quietly in front of Logan and Old Rog.

But inside, he’d already worked out the identities.

So this refined-looking man... was he living off a woman?

Still, fair enough—Silco’s daughter really could walk sideways in Bilgewater.

But as Rael was thinking that, he heard Old Rog ask Logan from the side, "So why does the Lord of Zaun have time to come to Bilgewater?"

Rael’s brain went blank.

Lord... of what?

"Honeymoon," Logan said. "And don’t go spreading it around. I don’t want Silco sending people to drag me back."

"Old Rog, do me a favor. Pretend this never happened. And those guys..." Logan glanced at Celia’s crew. "Yeah. Don’t make it too ugly for them."

Old Rog nodded. "No problem. But that still doesn’t repay what you did for me. How about this—while you’re here, you stay at my place."

"Works for me," Logan said. "I hadn’t found a place yet anyway."

Rael finally snapped fully back to life and barked, "Men! Throw Celia’s Hunter Crew out—every last one of them! And spread the word: for the next three months, nobody takes business from Celia’s Hunter Crew. Anyone who does is an enemy of Black Firestone!"

A smart man knew when to bow.

Rael had grabbed the rope upward.

Anger?

Gone.

Old Rog was saving him.

If Silco found out his daughter got messed with on Rael’s turf, worst case Rael just shut down the tavern and went back to hunting sea monsters. He could still survive.

But if the person you offended was the Lord of Zaun?

You wanted to be an enemy of all of Zaun?

Don’t make me laugh.

Bring Gangplank here—would he dare?

He dared to hit Noxus because Bilgewater didn’t need Noxus to make money.

But if you told him to fight Zaun?

Ha.

The upper-quarter bosses would swarm in and turn on Gangplank first.

Because Bilgewater’s living supplies, furniture, liquor, food—everything—came from Zaun.

Eyes shining, Rael stared at Logan like he was looking at a walking fortune.

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