During the talent flow period at Secret Port in the Sea Erosion Cliff, the busiest times were around morning and noon. After that, hardly anyone was left.  

Shadi yawned on the dock, his striking looks causing heads to turn. Some people on the neighboring smuggling ship, all from Nantong, looked sideways at him, almost mesmerized.  

Elves were absolute elites on the Western Continent. The Aran Emperor had never made a move against the elf forces on the continent's far west, abiding by an ancient pact.  

“Look again and I’ll climb up and chop you up.”  

Shadi noticed someone staring at him, and those people quickly looked away.  

Shadi belonged to the dark elf lineage, different from the batch on the continent’s west side; their statuses were vastly different. Having gotten into trouble and been expelled, he put his bamboo hat back on.  

The outer towns around Linden City had a weekly market day, and today happened to be the busiest time. This was when refugees and fugitives tried blending into the crowd.  

Even after slightly relaxing the strict standards, only just over thirty people were recruited. It would only get harder from here on. They hoped to recruit more during the next peak.  

The Fumark Vengeance was finally starting to look like a proper large ship. The deck buzzed with activity, brightly lit. On the first day, the sailors couldn’t be overworked; basic hygiene maintenance was enough. Once the ship was underway, then the crew would have it easier.  

“No one else. Wrap it up.”  

Ren finally relaxed completely and gestured to two men smoking by the railing to carry the tables and chairs back on board.  

If no one was put to work, wouldn’t that be a loss?  

With Archer absent, Wolman acted as the emergency backup cook, making a messy stew. He boiled water without cutting the vegetables or meat, just threw everything in. As long as there were spices, the broth tasted good. For these livelihood fighters, a sip of meat soup with bread, and a bottle of almost overflowing liquor after the meal was paradise.  

The onboard treatment was indeed as Ox had said — the top of the top in the listed companies.  

After the two men finished, since Ren was the direct superior, they flattered him hard. Ren enjoyed the praise and was quite pleased.  

“Nice words won’t do any good. You think I like hearing that? Get to work quickly. There’s no such thing as making money on a pirate ship by just talking. Talk less, do more.”  

Ren kicked each of the two men once and said irritably.  

The two still smiled apologetically and carried the items back onto the ship.  

“When is Lord’s big job finally coming?”  

Shadi complained. Although only a day had passed, the uncertainty was maddening.  

“Wasn’t it supposed to be a month? At least ten days are needed to prepare for the voyage. Saying one month doesn’t mean it’ll come at the last minute. Don’t worry, that’s the final ultimatum — at most twenty days. But listen to me, the later the better. Best if it doesn’t come for half a year. Better still, never come.”  

Ren made his judgment.  

“Half a year without coming... You can say that, but how will so many people eat?”  

Shadi was speechless.  

“You elf brain isn’t as sharp as my werewolf brain. Lord isn’t short of money. Since he wants to keep us brothers, he’ll support us. Bet me, within five days, to keep us from leaving, he’ll definitely send gifts.”  

Ren pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Shadi had dealt with musketeers before, always dealing with bandits, rebels, and mountain raiders. Not understanding Lord’s generosity was normal. When he was still shining in the adventurer group, nobles often invited him for dinners, and with a word, those troublesome monsters around their territories would be wiped out. He knew those lords’ nature well.  

“You make a lot of sense.”  

Shadi had to admit, this group on the ship wasn’t very cultured, but they were as sharp as ghosts.  

At that moment, Micah returned, seeing the big oil lamps on the ship lit, all auxiliary lamps on, the deck brightly illuminated, and around thirty people mostly humans with a few other races.  

“There are a lot more people now.”  

Micah said, not knowing how many would still be left after a year. Ren, Shadi, and the veterans had skills and tough luck, but for these new recruits boarding the ship, their fates were uncertain.  

“How’s it going?”  

Ren grinned evilly, knowing Micah would be exceptionally carefree today.  

“What do you mean how’s it going?”  

Micah was impressed that after so many years, these people still couldn’t change their three-word greetings. He had become conditioned to reply with those five words.  

“Of course, the dark dense forest everyone yearns for.”  

Ren said something extremely lewd and added, “Dark Genshin Impact, activate!”  

Micah gave a dark line on his forehead. Sometimes he didn’t understand what Li Site said. This dog brain learned whatever and extrapolated; even he had version updates.  

“Heh, not bad.”  

Micah casually responded.  

“Not bad? Damn, all you normies should just explode.” Ren took a drag and continued, “When you say ‘not great,’ it means the experience was average. Saying ‘just that’ means it was okay. Saying ‘not bad’ means you’re on cloud nine, damn.”  

Micah was speechless and didn’t bother with the crazy guy, boarding the ship on his own.  

The deck was lively.  

Black Sails’ entry-level course was to put these self-important fugitives in their place, using the pretense of sparring to properly assert dominance and prevent future trouble.  

Morrison was sparring with several sailors, barehanded combat.  

The outcome was predictable.  

Even against five or six people, Morrison easily knocked them down without breaking a sweat, averaging over one person per second, all lying on the ground spitting out clear water, their insides churning.  

“You call yourselves gangsters? Just empty hands. If it were with weapons, you’d all be dead already.”  

Morrison chewed a purple berry from the fruit plate. It had tasted good that day, so he sent someone to town to buy more.  

Micah watched the scene. These people weren’t weak; who the hell could beat Morrison?  

“I’m not convinced. If there were weapons, not sure about that.”  

A two-meter tall bald sailor with a skull tattoo said. Even boarding the ship, he wanted some rank; being just a laborer was boring.  

Morrison was among the shorter Black Sails crew, about 1.8 meters tall, but far less imposing than Ox or Ren.  

“Oh?” Morrison was interested. “Take whatever you want. Go ahead, even muskets.”  

“That was your challenge.”  

The tattooed giant picked a handy curved blade and struck first, mercilessly attacking Morrison without giving him a word.  

Bang!  

The flying knife was like a cannonball. No one saw where it came from. The curved blade was blasted out, spinning wildly over twenty meters before falling into the sea. The tattooed giant knelt down screaming, his wrist bent at a grotesque angle, the force causing a dislocation and swelling.  

Everyone’s jaws dropped; it was incredible.  

“Also, never say you’re not convinced again. On this ship, absolute obedience is required. Emphasizing again: absolute obedience. Once you’re on a pirate ship, your head’s tied to your belt. Watch your words. Those without eyes won’t have a good ending.”  

Morrison said coldly, his half-burned face scarred with more than ten knife marks looking terrifying. For a moment, no one dared speak.  

“Hey, Kill-brother, stop bullying these newcomers; you’re scaring them. Don’t bother him in the future. Eat and drink as you please. The warehouse is almost overflowing with liquor. Tonight, everyone can drink two more bottles, okay? We’re popping champagne.”  

Ren saw Morrison bullying the new recruits as soon as he boarded. Kill-brother was ruthless, which might leave shadows that hinder work later.  

The sailors on deck sighed; this ship was truly dripping in wealth, with food and drink as if they were free.  

The tattooed giant was not narrow-minded.  

“I’d heard Black Sails were full of outstanding people. The reputation is well deserved. Mixing with you guys is definitely right. I’m willing to stay on this ship until I die.”  

The tattooed giant stood up, admiring.  

Morrison didn’t reply, not wanting to fraternize with a minor character.  

“Hey, can’t you say something auspicious? On this ship, you must speak auspicious words. No talk of death or dying; we’re popping champagne.”  

Ren sent a few men to the warehouse to fetch liquor.  

Micah sighed and took the tattooed giant downstairs to the infirmary for bone setting and some medicine.