CHAPTER 472: CHAPTER 303: PIRATES ATTACK_1

Upon the boundless ocean, there was no magnificent view, only a solitary pirate ship sailing across it.

The reason it was easily recognized as a pirate ship was, of course, the Black Skull Flag hoisted high atop the mast, adorned with two bright red mustaches over the skeleton.

In the days before Hamlet’s decline, these scoundrels wouldn’t have dared to be so brazen. But now, Hamlet had lost control of the seas. It couldn’t even defend itself, let alone clear out pirates.

The pirates now dictated terms in these waters. They even paraded their identity with no need for concealment, as it made sailing easier and warned others to steer clear.

Under the scorching sun, aside from the crew navigating the ship, not a single pirate wanted to be out, all hiding within the chaotic interior of the ship.

Tobacco, stinky feet, fermenting sweat, rotting food, and the stench of excrement—all these revolting smells grew even more pronounced in the sweltering heat.

However, the pirates were accustomed to such an environment; a clean place would have actually made them uncomfortable.

The pirates tasked with controlling the ship on deck, however, were truly unlucky. A headscarf was their only protection from the sun. This also explained why most pirates wore them: to keep the sea breeze from disheveling their hair and to shield themselves from the harsh sunlight.

They didn’t dare defy the captain’s authority, which was maintained with blood, but they couldn’t help voicing a few complaints under the blazing sun.

"Damn it, I was already enjoying myself back on the island. How did I get stuck with this crappy job? When can I go back?"

"Damn this cursed weather! My throat is parched. I need a big drink right now."

"The town’s gambling den hasn’t paid its tribute in three months. The boss wants the captain to check if there’s trouble at the casino."

"Goddamn, who would dare touch Redbeard’s men? They must have a death wish!"

"Who cares, let’s finish this job and head back."

As they chatted, a sudden clamor erupted from overhead.

"I see it, I see it!"

Along with the sound of bells, the pirate on lookout atop the mast shouted frantically down below while continuously pointing towards the sea.

This news was exhilarating for everyone on board. Pirates soon poured out of the ship’s cabin, eager to see what was happening.

Standing at the prow was a disheveled, short, and stocky man wearing the common black wide-brimmed, bicorne hat. His shirt was loose, revealing half of his chest hair, and he wore ill-fitting breeches and boots.

Oddly, he was cloaked in a tattered coat in this scorching weather, with a cutlass at his waist and an ornate but outdated musket.

This man was the captain. Everyone on board knew his outfit was spoils of war; he had killed an officer of the Empire’s Navy, which had earned him the right to be a captain in the Redbeard Pirates.

Therefore, the captain never took off that coat—his proof of strength and valor—and hadn’t for over a decade.

As the ship sailed closer, land gradually came into view for the pirates.

"Look, what’s that?"

"There’s a merchant ship in this godforsaken place, and not just one, but two."

"We’re gonna be rich!"

"Full speed ahead!"

The crew was excited, and the captain even more so.

He had thought he’d only find a barren fishing village, but instead, he’d run into merchant ships—it was their lucky day to strike it rich!

***

News of the pirates hadn’t spread yet, so the docks still bustled with activity.

Aside from the fishermen, many workers were loading resources produced in Hamlet onto merchant ships, preparing for a cargo run in a few days.

Lord Lance had tasked Wilson with recruiting Navy personnel and rapidly building combat readiness. To achieve this, Wilson had conscripted many existing sailors, leading to a shortage for merchant voyages.

Fortunately, Hamlet wasn’t short of people. With money, many new hands could be recruited. These ships were used for their training, quickly cultivating a batch of capable sailors.

After a month of grueling training, these naval recruits had begun to form a competent fighting force. While it was too early to tell how they’d fare initiating conflict, they should at least be capable of escorting ships.

Lance hadn’t planned to keep the ships idle. He wanted to be thoroughly prepared and would restart seaborne trade as soon as the time was right.

However, he hadn’t expected news of pirates at this juncture. Lance didn’t know whether to be alarmed or thrilled.

Did these pirates know I just finished training a batch of new Navy sailors and are deliberately coming to test their capabilities? Or are they worried my new recruits haven’t seen blood yet and are here to deliver an inaugural victory? How considerate of them. I’ll have to "thank" them properly.

Lance ascended the newly constructed watchtower, peered through a monocular telescope towards the edge of the sea, and indeed saw a black ship steering toward Hamlet.

"Hahaha, good, very good!"

He had been a bit worried, but after confirming that there was only one ship, Lance actually burst into laughter.

A single-masted fast ship, with a crew of no more than a hundred? Are they seriously here to deliver a welcome gift package for new players?

"My Lord, should we evacuate the civilians at the docks?" Wilson asked. He noticed the Lord wasn’t as lighthearted, appearing somewhat somber.

Although he wasn’t afraid of pirates, they were, after all, desperados. It was still best to be cautious.