Starke Island, over twenty nautical miles to the north, within a solitary island bay.
Amidst the bustle of numerous barnacle crewmembers going to and fro.
The Blood Demon Hand emerged slowly from the ocean.
Standing two and a half meters tall, with arms thicker than the waists of ordinary sailors, Second Mate Matthew Bartley made the deck creak beneath his steps.
As he walked, Matthew Bartley unabashedly released his now fifth-rank aura and roared in a voice that was like a loudspeaker.
"Hey! You damned barnacle crewmembers, pick up the pace!"
"This time the captain let you ashore and you've had a good time for over a month."
"Even gave each of you a fair amount of Magic Gold."
"Any scumbag who slacks off like before,"
"if I catch them, I'll crack their skull open on the spot and stuff it full of barnacles."
Under Matthew Bartley's patrolling.
The shifty barnacle crewmembers had to rein themselves in considerably.
