Skrtel’s face instantly revealed a contemptuous grin; "Indeed, this lad is a counterfeit!"
Stillwell similarly broke into laughters, where his laughters contained an intent of ridicule.
"Ye can’t even recognize me, yer dare to feign as a crew mate of the grand Flying Dutchman?"
A snort sounded out from Sheyan’s nose.
"What are you? Based on what should I recognize you?"
Stillwell casted a haughty expression before replying.
"Ye moronic scum, I be the communication link between the Flying Dutchman and dry land! Let me inform ye, ye best strip naked and kneel before Tortuga’s port entrance fer 3 days, and hand over tis’ ship and yer pirate crew to Mister Skrtel. Then, I be sparin’ yer scurvy dog life, otherwise...."
Before Stilwell could finish his statement, Sheyan had already unleashed a slap across. PA! One slap was enough to send several teeth flying out of his mouth. Sheyan then hung down his brows as he unenthusiastically asked.
"Otherwise what?"
