Chapter 951:
Rylie was quick to catch small details, but this wasn’t her area of expertise. Watching the flood of baseless theories and the chaos spilling through comments and forums, she muttered, “Relying on netizens to uncover clues is like trying to find a needle in the ocean.”
Brad replied, “Maybe a sailor who actually knows maritime work could point out something useful.”
Rylie’s eyes brightened. “Exactly. This kind of thing should be handled by people who know what they’re doing.”
She thought of the pirates of Ravenguard—cunning raiders who constantly repaired and upgraded their ships with whatever parts they could steal, turning scraps into remarkably seaworthy vessels. Compared to them, most ordinary users online didn’t stand a chance. Those men lived and breathed salt air and machinery.
Moreover, the pirate captain, Tommy Nicolson, kept an active social media account, which made contacting him simple enough.
With that in mind, Rylie forwarded the livestream link to him, asking him to review the footage and see if he could spot any overlooked clues.
In return, she promised him an extra crate of weapons and a torpedo in their next arms exchange if he managed to uncover anything valuable.
After encrypting and sending the message, Rylie left the livestream running and turned her attention to assembling gift boxes for her brothers.
With Christmas fast approaching, most people were easing up on their workloads to focus on family gatherings—sharing meals, trading stories, and enjoying warm conversations together.
In a cheerful mood that evening, Rylie decided to cook for everyone herself. Selah and the family chef helped out, while Marcus requested lasagna. Lucilla, remembering her earlier success with the dish, eagerly volunteered to assist and ended up producing a stunning pan of it, which she presented to Rylie with pride.
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As laughter and chatter filled the house, Rylie’s laptop rang from where it sat on the floor, signaling an incoming video call. Caught up in the bustle of cooking, she didn’t hear it.
Marcus, passing through the living room, caught the sound and bent to pick up the device, planning to call her over. He froze mid-motion when the caller’s image flashed on the screen—a broad-shouldered, powerfully built man staring back at him.
In the profile photo, the man stood with his arms folded across a chest so wide it looked sculpted to draw attention. His pants hung dangerously low on his hips, exposing the sharp lines of his hip bones. Beneath the image, a single brazen line read, “Twenty centimeters, ladies—see for yourselves.”
Marcus stared at the screen, stunned, as the ringtone kept blaring.
Deandre leaned in, frowning. “What are you doing? Who’s trying to reach Rylie?”
Is Our Sister Seriously Into This Kind Of Guy
One look at the image—and its crude caption—left Deandre equally speechless, his expression caught between shock and confusion. “Is our sister seriously into this kind of guy?” he murmured, then flicked a glance toward Brad, who was still focused on his laptop. “Do we… tell him?”
Brad didn’t even look up. “You don’t need to. I’m five meters away, and I can hear every word you’re saying.”
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