In the middle of the azure ocean, the dorsal fins of numerous sharks could be clearly seen forming a triangle of death. They were densely packed and fighting against each other to tear apart the flesh being thrown from the ship.
At the same time, the few unlucky fellows who had been disclosed as the former captain's trusted aides were cowering in fear as they stood on the gangplank, covered in wounds. In front of them was a sea of sharks, yet behind them were former comrades pointing weapons at them.
There was no doubt that such torture was extremely terrible, but the most frightening aspect was still the psychological pressure.
"Captain, your wine!"
Bill could not wait to deliver a bottle of wine from the ship's treasure collection. Presently, Fang Yuan was leisurely sitting on a cushioned chair with turkey, as well as a fork and knife, placed before him.
"Not bad!"
