Hmm?
Seems the analogy was off.
"Boss, all the supplies are loaded," said the lackey in charge of loading, jogging over, "Are we setting off?"
"No rush, we'll leave tomorrow."
"Uh? But... the Spaniards on the island are out of food," the lackey stammered.
"Do you think they are your father or your mother? What time is it? The brothers should eat and drink well first, we can deliver tomorrow, are they going to starve?" Ethan Hunt said dismissively, waving his hand, "Tell the guys, I'm footing the bill for the Red Light District tonight!"
The lackey wanted to say something, but Ethan gave him a glare, and he could only shrink his neck.
"Alright, let's wrap it up, today Victor's treating!" Some sharp-eyed lackey ran to the docks and waved to everyone, and all the grumbling drug traffickers and workers cheered up at the news.
They left the docks laughing, already looking forward to the pleasant night ahead.
