Humanity Forbidden Island [Full Text] - 22

Chapter 297: The Soul on the Roof

of the Pickup Truck. The shop owner in the pickup truck was terrified by Du Mo's fierce roar. Sweat beaded on his dark face. He immediately floored the accelerator, and the sluggish pickup truck lurched forward again, speeding off as before.

The shop owner seemed to understand that Du Mo had torn off his friendly facade. He was no longer the chubby, black man who had been smirking and accommodating in the grocery store. Now, surrounded by wilderness, and judging from the ferocity of Du Mo's shouts, it wasn't hard to tell that he had truly messed with the wrong person.

Even if Du Mo didn't shoot him dead, even a slap across his thin cheek, with a black hand as thick as a hippo's foot, would be enough to dislocate his jaw or even knock his eyeball out of its socket.

With Du Mo's explosive brute strength, there was indeed a possibility of killing this skinny man with a single blow. I stood in the back of the pickup truck, the wheels bouncing wildly from the rocks and sand pits in the wilderness. Only by maintaining a half-crouching position could I keep my balance and avoid being thrown off and injured.

Even so, after two or three minutes, the small truck chasing us was still slowly approaching, despite the pickup truck's wheels spinning to their limit.

"Mr. Chase, running like this isn't going to work. Why don't we stop and let me teach them a lesson?" Dumo was getting impatient. He was very frustrated. If they were being chased by a few warlords, there would be a reason to run, but these few residents of Bilo City, who had no fighting spirit whatsoever, were stubbornly clinging to us, showing a tendency to push their luck.

Dumo's concerns were valid. If this stalemate continued, once the group of thugs chasing us entered the range of our AK-47 rifles, no matter how clumsy their marksmanship, bullets didn't discriminate.

Moreover, through the binoculars, the pursuers were grinning, their white teeth gleaming, their laughter utterly unrestrained. They seemed to regard Dumo and me as prey they were determined to capture—a rare but deadly boss who would leave them with a mountain of loot.

"Hmm, make that guy park the pickup truck on a slightly higher slope. If they keep messing with us like this, we'll waste even the time we need to catch our breath in the car,"

Dumo yelled menacingly at the shop owner after hearing my words. The pickup truck quickly braked sharply on a slightly higher slope.

As soon as the vehicle came to a stop, Dumo jumped out of the back seat, his thick right arm plunging into the roof, grabbing the shop owner by the neck and yanking him out of the window. The shop

owner, his head wrapped in a red checkered towel, screamed in terror, his limbs flailing wildly in the air. Although his AK-47 rifle was right next to the driver's seat, he didn't dare reach out to touch it, because Dumo's ferocity truly instilled fear in him.

No matter how arrogant he had been before, he should have sensed their presence by now. The strength of these two outsiders was far beyond what a brat like him, who dared to fight among the citizens with just a weapon, could match.

"Slap! Slap!" Dumo glared at the bull's red eyes as it roared, keeping the shopkeeper by the neck to prevent him from hitting the ground, while simultaneously launching a lightning-fast beating. "We have shillings in our other bag! Do you want to see them? Huh? Speak up."

Two more slaps later, the black shopkeeper's headscarf was knocked to the ground, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

"Look at the swagger you had when you were at home! If you dare to be tough again, let me tell you, Du Mo despises men who sleep on the floor. If you're really tough, keep playing tough with me in this desolate place."

After venting his anger, Du Mo finally threw the dazed shopkeeper onto the sand and added viciously, "You know what? With your pathetic appearance, I could wipe out as many as you came, damn it."

I ignored Du Mo, suppressing his temper repeatedly, which was somewhat disrespectful and inconsiderate of his feelings.

Since I met him, I've found Du Mo to be an extremely stubborn and resolute guy at heart. He wouldn't complain if he were insulted and beaten by a mercenary with real strength like the Iron-Faced Demon, but he couldn't stand this kind of pretentious "idol" in front of him, who clearly lacked strength but still had an arrogant personality and pretended to be a cold-blooded ruthless person to intimidate others.

This is the African desert. To survive, everyone has to be pragmatic. There are no idols; only raw strength and the toughness of fighting can earn you a chance to breathe tomorrow's air.

Dumo grew up in this primitive yet profoundly different environment, so he despised those ostentatious, arrogant little guys and would never suffer injustice at their hands.

After all, Dumo was an absolute pirate warrior. When he was with me, he seemed mediocre, but among mid-level mercenaries, he was an outstanding, terrifying, and bloodthirsty individual.

As soon as the pickup truck stopped on the slope, I opened the sniper rifle pouch, pulled out the Barrett sniper rifle, climbed onto the roof, and began adjusting the focus and firing.

"Gibberish, waarali..." The shopkeeper, bloodied from the corner of his mouth, had been kicked sideways on the sand by Dumo and dared not stand up again. But seeing me holding an unusually long and large rifle and aiming through the sniper scope, he immediately cried out in fear.

"Dumo, translate." My eyes remained glued to the sniper scope, my index finger on the trigger, as I spoke casually to Dumo beside me.

"Oh, he asked if his wife was in the car behind, said the woman is three months pregnant, and told you not to shoot her." Dumo quickly translated, then chuckled at the disheveled shopkeeper.

"Hmph!" A slight smile played on my lips, and as I exhaled, two bullets, gleaming with fire, streaked out in bright lines, heading towards the oncoming truck.

"Waaah, Garu Garu..." The shopkeeper, sitting on the sand nearby, saw the lines of fire and immediately collapsed to the ground, weeping as if in prayer or mourning.

Although he didn't understand my language, my cold, indifferent snort had perfectly conveyed to him the outcome: if I didn't warn him, he wouldn't be in trouble; if I did, he'd be shooting his pregnant wife.

Du Mo, seeing the shopkeeper wailing and pounding the ground with his hands as if in worship, laughed so hard he almost fell over, the two forming a stark contrast of sorrow and joy.

Two intense beams of fire shot out; the first struck the right front wheel of the pursuing truck, and as the truck tilted, the second beam struck the right rear wheel, which had darted out. The group of men standing on the truck bed, laughing, suddenly stumbled, nearly falling off their vehicles in a heap.

Even with a spare tire, the pursuing truck couldn't stop after changing just one wheel. They jumped out of their vehicles and, like a group of children playing hide-and-seek, frantically ran behind the sideways, broken-down truck.

Chapter 298: In the twilight

, Buale's confident, self-satisfied laughter during the chase had now turned into a thin layer of yellow dust on his face. This kind of intimidation—being able to deliberately shoot out tires from 1500-1600 meters away—was more than enough for these guys who only knew how to exchange gunfire.

But perhaps they didn't know one thing: if I wanted to kill, they wouldn't even have a chance to hide behind the car; their skulls would already be flying off into the wilderness.

"Hahaha, hahahaha..." Dumo almost burst into laughter, seeing the shopkeeper who had humiliated him just half an hour ago now rolling around on the sand, crying grotesquely. Dumo felt a surge of satisfaction, his pent-up anger finally released.

I jumped off the roof of the pickup truck, sniper rifle in my left hand, and strode over to the shopkeeper, whose forehead was resting on the sand. I grabbed him by the back of his belt and hoisted the snot-and-tears-covered guy onto the truck's roof. His crying suddenly rose a octave, as if a conductor's baton had been raised during a solo performance.

"Hahaha, hahaha..." The shopkeeper, thinking it was his turn to be shot, was terrified and embarrassed, which only made Dumo, who was already laughing so hard he was nearly cramping up, laugh even harder.

"Here." I took the binoculars off my neck and tossed them to the shop owner, whose nose was red from crying, sitting on the roof of the truck. He was craning his neck to look at the truck in the distance, trying to see if his wife was lying in a pool of blood.

But he didn't dare to look too closely, as if he was still afraid of something. Even the way I tossed him the binoculars made him tremble violently.

Seeing the binoculars, he quickly sobbed a couple of times to stop wailing, as if trying to gather his emotions before suddenly bursting into another wailing fit after seeing the gruesome scene of his wife's death.

I think he must have thought I was a demon, first beating his beloved pregnant woman to death, then handing him binoculars to admire her, completely destroying his spirit.

Du Mo was probably laughing so hard his stomach hurt. He gently patted his slightly protruding belly with a chubby hand, forcibly stopping his dark, chubby face from creases with laughter.

Just as Dumo stopped laughing, the gaunt shopkeeper on the roof chuckled twice, then twice more, as if the magic of his laughter had transferred from Dumo to him.

This gaunt shopkeeper must have seen his beloved wife peeking out from behind the broken-down truck, like a sparrow cautiously peeking out from behind a cat's roof.

He finally understood the situation: the two bullets had only punctured the tires, not harmed anyone.

"Dumo, let him get out. Keep driving us to Buale. If we don't get there before dark, it'll be his wife's turn to cry on the ground," Dumo readily agreed, like a child who had had his fill of fun.

Dumo searched the shopkeeper and found he only had a rifle, so he took the weapon to the back pocket and removed all the bullets.

Dumo and I sat back in the back of the truck, the little pickup swaying gently as it sped along, the previous bumps much less noticeable.

"Ya yi wa li ai, ge lu lu ha ya yi ai..." The chassis of the small pickup truck rattled and whirred as the sand it kicked up flew. Dumo and I covered our faces with cloths to prevent inhaling too much dust. Before the truck had gone ten minutes, a strange, ritualistic tune began to emanate from the engine compartment.

I frowned. Dumo, with a sidelong glance, listened intently for a few seconds, then grinned, his thick black lips parting slightly, and said, "Look, who's this! Singing!" My frown immediately relaxed, and I asked Dumo what he was singing.

Dumo translated, "A beautiful girl lives in my village, by the river at sunset, there are my fat cattle and sheep, I want to give them to my beloved girl..."

The wispy, smoke-like song drifted across the vast wilderness. Dumo picked up his old piece of paper to shield himself from the sun again. I hugged the sniper rifle I had been holding, my tired forehead resting against the barrel, feeling drowsy.

"Mr. Zhui Ma, do you think we can reach Buale before dark?" "Dumo, practically glowing from the sun, was like someone trying to quench his thirst with a mirage, wishing the car would fly him to the inn in Buale so he could drink a bucket of ice water.

'Yes, otherwise that scout would be crying already, he wouldn't be in the mood to sing.' Dumo chuckled, telling me to get some sleep while he scouted the road. I pulled out the camouflage net from my pack, used a few rifles to create a makeshift sunshade, and carefully lay down in this precious shade, closing my dry eyes.

'Hey! Driver, sing another song, preferably one that gives everyone goosebumps.'" "Du Mo held up the small piece of paper, no bigger than his palm, and shouted at the shopkeeper inside the car, his face obscured by the sun.

The blood-red sunset gradually appeared. I don't know how long I slept, but I was awakened by Du Mo's raspy singing. This fat, black Kodo beast was already sitting on the roof of the car, holding binoculars, his two big, fat legs dangling over the passenger-side window, emitting a shrill, weasel-like croaking that made the driver laugh like an idiot.

The air around us was much cooler; otherwise, Du Mo wouldn't have dared to sit on the car's roof, which was as hot as a pan from the sun. In the distance, on the soft, reddish horizon, a city vaguely appeared, with countless star-like lights flashing between the crowded, tall buildings, giving one the feeling of returning home." The warmth and intimacy.

Dumo loved this feeling most; he was captivated by the city's prosperity and neon lights. That's why his singing was unusually shrill, devoid of its usual rhythm—because he was overjoyed.

Chapter 299: The Deadly Street After Dark

As we approached the outskirts of Buale, the bus owner slowed down, got out, and told Dumo and me that he had to go home early; his wife was very worried about her and feared something might happen at home.

After the turmoil in Bilo City, we didn't dare to rush into Buale. We needed to wait until it was darker and then carefully pace ourselves as we drove in.

I had Dumo ask some questions about Buale, and after the shopkeeper answered Dumo's questions, he drove off towards Bilo City as if fleeing for his life.

I After regrouping, Dumo and I decided to enter the city diagonally from the left. That area had more taller buildings, making it more grand and imposing compared to the surrounding towns. With enough shillings, staying in these upscale areas would be relatively safe, avoiding further harassment from the local thugs.

The night was getting deeper. Dumo walked ahead excitedly, the neon lights shimmering in the city like jewels scattered on a pile of dark rocks, attracting every pair of eyes on the edge of darkness.

This city-state was four times larger than Los Angeles. To the north were several flat-topped mountains, hundreds of meters high, shaped like turtle shells or basin rims, shielding the entire city-state from the gently sloping plains to the south. Orange... The pale white houses with their colored roofs clustered together, resembling a plate of radish slices sprinkled with tomato sauce.

The ground beneath our feet had hardened, the rocky surface replacing the previous barren red soil. Following a narrow mountain path, Dumo and I stealthily entered the city. Occasionally, a cargo truck would pass by, ignoring us two strangers, simply shoving and brushing past us.

There were no brightly lit streets or night markets nearby; once we were truly inside, we felt the surroundings were dim. The number and brightness of the neon lights in this city were far less than in the coastal cities of Madagascar.

Dumo walked ahead, his rifle slung across his neck, his face tilted back and forth, glancing at the billboards on either side, hoping to soon see signs for hotels or guesthouses.

"Mr. Zhui Ma, this area doesn't look like there are any places to stay. We need to go further in, into those places with more dazzling, mesmerizing lights." "

Although I don't know Somali, I can imagine that Somalia has very few immigrants. For most of the poor in the country, when they stop in Buale, they can just find a roof or a stone slab to sleep on until dawn, since it's cooler outside at night.

Therefore, high-end hotels or guesthouses have no potential market here and can't thrive. Wealthy officials and businessmen mostly stay in their luxurious apartments, which are fully equipped. They just need to lock the door and draw the curtains. This kind of quiet enjoyment avoids arousing the eyes of those carrying rifles but starving. Otherwise, what would be thrown into the apartment through broken windows would not be bricks.

"Dumo, in a place like this, don't always think about finding a place like the Beiru Hotel. Let's see if there are any financial institutions nearby and exchange some shillings first." "

After my reminder, Dumo chuckled, quickly lowering his dark face, which had been tilting his head back so high, and continued looking around.

'Mr. Zhui Ma, we haven't slept for a day and a night. I'm ready to sleep on my feet. There aren't even any fruit stalls or snack shops in sight, and my stomach is growling. It's really frustrating.'

Dumo and I originally wanted to run to reach the center of Buale as quickly as possible to avoid some shops closing down. But we were afraid of attracting gunfire in these streets where everyone is armed. There are all sorts of people in the world, and there are many rules here that Dumo and I don't yet understand.

Especially those areas with clearly defined areas of interest; if we blindly run around, we might enter some sensitive territory, and some bored security guard might even hide in the shadows and fire a couple of shots."

Little Pikachu had warned Dumo and me beforehand that although Buale had more resources and a larger population than Bilo, street shootouts were commonplace. It was not uncommon for one group to fire a few shots at another. Therefore, travelers like us carrying luggage were easily mistaken for enemies by these wary gangs and subjected to deadly attacks. In other

words, we shouldn't wander the streets at night; we should find a place to stay quickly. Dumo saw a pawnshop, and I gave him fifty euros. I stood in the dark corner by the shop's light and waited. A moment later, Dumo came running out excitedly.

"Hehe, not a penny less, all refunded in shillings! You can put these clothes in your bag; my backpack is already stuffed with a thousand shillings. The black lady who runs the shop said there are no hotels nearby, but if we wanted to stay, we could go to her house for a small overnight fee. Look, she even gave me a bunch of bananas!" Dumo said

with a grin, tearing off a banana and stuffing it into his mouth. It was probably past nine o'clock at night. I looked around and saw that the lights in many places were gradually going out. Presumably, some commercial buildings had turned off their lights, and everyone was being very frugal.

"Don't worry, you won't encounter any greedy people this time. The saleswoman said that she lives with her parents in the village behind the commercial area."

I pondered for a moment and could only nod in agreement. This pawnshop was a detached two-story building, like an extra floor forcibly added to an existing bungalow. The second floor was a tailor shop, with the windows still lit. The dim, yellowish light cast onto the street, like a movie, reflecting the busy figures of apprentices working.

Across the street, several rows of two-story buildings were already dark and closed, all small workshops selling fabric. Du Mo grumbled as he ate a banana, like a starving hippopotamus.

A short while later, the pawnshop door locked, and a tall, thin, dark-skinned woman emerged. She was wrapped in a purple silk cloth, and her oval head was covered with a pinkish-white cloth.

Her two slender legs swayed within a large black skirt, and in the dim light, one could vaguely see sunflower-yellow dots on the skirt, the pattern of which was made to resemble the wings of a black butterfly.

This woman was about twenty-four or twenty-five years old. Although her nose was small and round, the bridge was long and flat. When her expression was relaxed, her small, square lips turned up, revealing her pink gums.

This woman was very shy. Although her eyes drooped slightly, her overall features had a delicate, Asian beauty.

However, she carried a woven wooden basket on her back, the kind that was usually hung in thatched huts in rural eastern China, only taken down to cut grass for feeding livestock. The basket was worn and shiny, with some damage to the upper part.

The woman waved to Dumo, gesturing for us to follow her. Dumo grinned and joined her. I didn't speak, picked up my rifle, slung my luggage over my shoulder, and followed behind them.

Chapter 300: The Pregnant Woman in the South African City

. After walking for a while, the neon lights of the distant city were blocked by the buildings behind us. The path began to crater, revealing a narrow, dirt road leading to a village.

Dumo walked and talked with the woman carrying the basket, the two engaging in a lively and harmonious conversation.

I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I kept my eyes on the bushes on either side of the road, wary of any ambush the woman might have set.

Buale is a city that has grown from villages. Behind the modern commercial buildings and billboards lie countless impoverished African villages.

Now, looking back at the high-rises of Buale and then at the dilapidated villages ahead, I felt a sense of generational disorientation, a chest filled with a strange sadness and oppression.

The woman carrying the basket could be considered a white-collar worker in Buale, but the tattered wooden basket on her thin frame, compared to the fashionable women in the bustling city carrying stylish bags, was a stark reminder of life's harsh realities.

The road between the small village and the city was the darkest stretch of road, with the lights at both ends far apart. The woman stopped, took out an oil lamp from her basket, lit it, and continued on her way.

When the small village came into view, Dumo realized that this was a slum in a corner of the city. He had thought he could sleep comfortably for the night, but instead, he had ended up in this predicament again. But this time, Dumo didn't complain much; he seemed to have a special fondness for the woman in the black dress.

The woman's house was made of a few asbestos tiles and a sampan. Although it was dilapidated, it was relatively quiet, with only the faint sounds of children crying and the grumbling of women nearby.

Upon entering the house, I found it to be dry, smooth wooden floorboards. Dumo took off his backpack and plopped down on the floor, saying a few words to the woman. A moment later, the woman, having changed her clothes, brought in a plate of fruit and rice.

Dumo sat up abruptly, smiling as he took the food and placed it in front of me, saying, "Mr. Zhuima, you must be tired from your journey. Please have something to eat." Dumo and I sat cross-legged facing each other. His words puzzled me; it felt as if we were in Dumo's home.

After the thin woman left, Dumo stared with bulging eyes, peering outside for a while before lowering his voice and leaning closer. "Mr. Zhuima, this woman is the eyeball planted in Buale, the successor to the next mission,"

Dumo whispered mysteriously. Hearing this, I suddenly turned my gaze out of the corner of my eye, peering through the small window covered with banana leaves into the courtyard.

"Hey! Mr. Chase, don't get agitated. If they find out we've been in cahoots, they'll kill me and skin me alive," Dumo said in a low, fearful voice, trying to calm me down.

"Oh, it's nothing!" I replied calmly, seeing Dumo suddenly become so tense, and slowly picked up the rice in front of me to fill my stomach.

"Jason Jody, that bastard, I curse his ancestors for eight generations!" Dumo cursed viciously when he saw I was speechless.

I remained silent and continued eating. No matter what, I needed to fill my stomach first, so I'd have the strength to fight back if anything happened later.

"Do you remember? When we first arrived on Reunion Island, I told you on the grassland that I had a woman I loved very much in South Africa City." Dumo, who had been so serious just moments before, now had a face full of worry.

"I remember, you said it was a man's shame to let a woman he loved become a prostitute," I replied coldly as I chewed my food.

“Yes! That woman is her.” Dumo finished speaking, gesturing towards the outside with his chin, his voice even lower. “Her name is Doguwa. I bought her from the roadside while I was gathering information in South Africa. My companions laughed and scolded me, saying that women like her, pretending to be pitiful and swindling money, are everywhere in big cities, and only a naive kid like me would believe them. But I could see that Doguwa’s eyes at that moment seemed to freeze time, frozen my heart. Although I was poor before, once I have money, I have to spend it lavishly, otherwise how will I weather the storms in the future?”

I smiled silently after hearing this, and couldn’t help but find Dumo somewhat endearing. Spending fifty dollars to buy a woman was indeed a big deal for him, a guy who had just boarded the pirate ship and received the least and most pitiful share of the money.

Dumo briefly told me what had happened. This woman, driven by hunger, hid on a cargo ship with other women and smuggled herself to South Africa. She was all alone, without any identification, and couldn't earn a penny even in the bustling metropolis where gold seemed to be everywhere.

Later, a local migrant worker, seeing her attractive appearance, lured her in with food and lodging, leading her to live with him for six months to satisfy his lust. But then, when Doguwa was three months pregnant, the man suddenly absconded with all his money and ran off with another woman.

Doguwa was left penniless in an instant. Her landlord kicked her out, and she wandered alone on the streets of a foreign land, receiving no help from anyone. She was forced to kneel by the bustling roadside, begging for help, writing a sign advertising herself for sale—a staggering five hundred rand!

Dumo continued his story, interrupting my thoughts. I seemed to understand something, but I didn't speak, continuing to listen.

"Think about it," he said, "when I was a pirate on the Sea Demon, I had earned five hundred-dollar bills, which were stuffed in my boots. At that time, I was so old, and I didn't even know what it was like to have a woman. I always wanted to have one of my own. But then, in the bustling city of the Cape of Good Hope, I saw a woman I could have for life for just fifty dollars. In that instant, I realized what money meant to some people."

Dumo talked a lot, and I just ate my food while listening to his uncontrollable outpouring. It wasn't surprising that this shiny black kodo beast had some of these thoughts. South Africa was a rich country with abundant mineral resources, and the Cape of Good Hope was an international metropolis. Almost every citizen on the street could pull out ten dollars from their pocket and toss it to a beggar blocking the road.

But with their bulging wallets, they could find beautiful women everywhere for intimate pleasures. Who would want to buy a pregnant woman? Perhaps they were more interested in her, more concerned with the consequences.

Women like Doguwa, back then, could only rely on luck to find someone, regardless of their motives, who would give them food, shelter, and fifty dollars—just enough to have an abortion without anesthesia at a small clinic. That was enough; it was the bare minimum for their survival.

That's why only a guy like Dumo, from a poor African village, suffering from both physical and emotional needs, would think it was the best deal to use his newly earned money to buy a dirty pregnant woman to keep as a wife. Clearly, what he wanted most at that time was a woman with all her organs intact; men find it hard to control their emotional impulses when they need a woman.

Dumo later went to the Cape of Good Hope a few more times to scout out the voyages of departing ships, but he was accompanied by other pirates. So, he kept the poor woman he bought for fifty dollars in a rented house in South Africa. Psychologically, he considered himself to have a second home, a connection in his life.

However, Dumo made no friends on the Sea Demon; those he encountered were nothing but opportunistic, backstabbing, and despicable people who climbed the social ladder by betraying and snitching on each other. So, news of Dumo's affair with the distressed woman, Doguwa, reached Jason Jody's ears.

What he saw surprised even Dumo himself, but Jason Jody was exceptionally cunning and treacherous. He had brought Doguwa, Dumo's only relative in South Africa, to serve as the successor to the final mission, a move with far-reaching and sinister intentions—to intimidate Dumo while simultaneously consolidating his control over me.

Chapter 301: The Pirate King's Little Hoe.

Doguwa removed her scarf and black dress, standing in the moonlit courtyard washing herself. The woman's body was thin; she seemed to have never eaten enough, or her body fat had dropped to its limit, unable to gain any more weight to make her fuller.

I continued to squint, watching this woman for a long time through the gaps in the banana leaves casually obscuring the small window. “Mr. Chase, I’m scared!” Dumo sighed.

“I know.” I replied curtly, my heart heavy. Ever since I killed the child lover on the rocks in Madagascar, Jason Jody seemed to have anticipated that I would make demands of him at this crucial moment, to loosen some of the “chains” controlling me.

Dumo had been by my side every day, stumbling and risking his life along the way. He might have developed some thoughts, or perhaps been subtly influenced and corrupted by me. In other words, Jason Jody had already realized this. I would use psychological tactics to undermine Dumo’s loyalty to the Sea Demon.

If Dumo was a sharp knife, this scheming, usurping pirate king was precisely the one who suspected me of stealing his blade and stabbing me in the back.

For someone like Dumo, trying to persuade him with words would inevitably arouse the suspicion and psychological immunity of a brainwashed individual. This method would not only be ineffective, but might also provoke Dumo to play along and put on a fake show for me.

So, throughout this journey, I didn't utter a single word of anything similar, only taking actions to make him reflect on his own. The reason I did this to Dumo was because he wasn't inherently bad; he wasn't the kind of scoundrel who couldn't be swayed by kindness or loyalty, no amount of money could buy him loyalty.

When I first arrived in Reunion Island, I didn't understand Dumo's character. Actually, the journey from Madagascar to Kismayo shouldn't have been so arduous. If I wanted to, I could have easily taken my sniper rifle, approached Kismayo, and then taken a waterway directly to Buale.

But that was pointless. Why rush straight into the battlefield designated by Jason Jodi? What was my intention? Did I really intend to risk my life for him, only to have this fake pirate king torture Luya and Yiliang to death, throw them into the sea to feed the sharks, and then happily spend some money to hire some experts to hunt me down and silence me?

Moreover, along the diagonal line connecting the three city-states of Buale, Baidabo, and Beledvin, between the Juba and Shebelle Rivers, numerous unfathomable assassins are converging. Encountering any one of them would be unprecedentedly difficult and dangerous.

This is something one doesn't need to experience at the hands of an opponent to understand the saying "there are always people more powerful than you." My ultimate goal is to safely transport those women off the Sea Demon, not to recklessly confront these masters.

Most importantly, I possess a vast amount of Cang Gui's illicit wealth. If I were to convert that gold and jewels into Euros or US dollars, I could easily sell them off to these terrifying assassins, causing them to turn against me. Of course, Nine Lives Raven is an exception; the hatred in his heart has already extinguished the allure of money for him.

If those assassins knew I had such astonishing financial resources, they would surely come to my aid with smiles on their faces. But the condition is that they absolutely cannot know about the wealth hidden on the deserted island's cliffs; otherwise, I will inevitably become the target of everyone's wrath.

Time, from the moment I left the Sea Demon, became the most important thing to me. It was like an hourglass of life hanging in my heart, and Luya and Yiliang were trapped within it. Since meeting the Raven in Mauritius, everything changed, and the entire plan had to be revised.

Objectively speaking, the scheming between the Raven and me was so intertwined that it was a strategy that no ordinary person could withstand. Even if Jason Jody was cunning and treacherous, he would be kept in the dark and suffocated. Because of this, the Raven didn't need to follow Dumo and me all the way. He had already gone to the Juba River, boarded a passing fishing boat, and settled in Buale to wait for me.

Dumo, on the other hand, was like a poor little dog, unknowingly dragged into the desert by me, his mind and body worn down, filled with resentment and growing resentment towards Jason Jody. Of course, I was also suffering, but this was more crucial than time and more conducive to achieving my ultimate goal.

I've been subtly doing things to make him see them, to provoke his humanity, and to let this African boy, who grew up amidst war and hunger, see another warm world.

However, Dumo is still young, and simply touching his soul isn't enough. So, to raise some money, I pawned the expensive watch the bunny girl had given me. The money raised, while not much for the average person, was enough to make the extraordinary Dumo's eyes pop out.

Dumo probably doesn't know that the Sea Demon's annual profits are astonishing, but when it comes to distributing the loot, the pirate novice Dumo receives a pittance—enough for the other pirates on the Sea Demon to gamble a few bucks.

Because those guys know that Dumo is the kind of person who pockets five hundred dollars and then goes around looking for superiority among those struggling to make ends meet.

On the Cang Gui's massive ship, even those foolish and arrogant pig-headed soldiers enjoyed free access to heroin and women, while a skilled pirate like Dumo was completely disregarded by Jason Jody, who merely tossed him a couple of copper coins as a token gesture.

Therefore, it's no wonder the other pirates on board despised Dumo, nor is it surprising that Dumo showed no affection for the Sea Demon.

Jason Jody possessed keen insight, but he failed to recognize that Dumo was actually a formidable killing machine. This pipe-smoking pirate leader, however, was blinded by the self-important old pirates surrounding him, thus overlooking Dumo's invaluable talent.

Despite his humble origins, Dumo possessed a simple, humane nature and a capacity for compassion. Jason Jody's biggest mistake was underestimating the bond between Dumo and Camilla.

Although the tea-picking woman from the island plantation wasn't Dumo's biological mother, he had a pretty good idea of her tragic death. Moreover, Jason Jody's men were utterly despicable. They received orders to kill her, but instead of simply shooting the kind, simple woman and letting her pass away peacefully, they gouged out her eyes and threw her into a hyena cage.

Seeing Dumo's tearful eyes and hearing his understated recounting of his godmother's misfortune, I felt sorrow for the innocent woman and also recognized this crack

in his heart—perhaps the root cause of Dumo's aversion to the Sea Demon. One shouldn't harbor malicious intentions, but Jason Jody, focused solely on his own self-interest, probably didn't realize that his own wicked heart was like a small hoe, constantly digging his own grave.

Chapter 302: The Wise Kodo Beast

At this moment, it seemed that the two legendary, terrifying warriors hired at great expense had indeed boarded the deck of the Sea Demon. The moment they stepped onto the pirate ship, they offered Jason Jody advice, helping him patch the loopholes in his entire strategic plan.

These two warriors didn't need to know Jason Jody's true purpose; they only needed to help their employer achieve final victory.

Of course, they wouldn't taste the bitter fruit of such victory for the time being. Currently, Nine Lives Raven was the only avenger who had tasted this bitterness and survived.

Although my understanding of Raven wasn't yet deep enough, he was undoubtedly a highly intelligent yet cunning individual, and since cooperating with him, all plans had proceeded as usual.

But now, sitting in the small wooden hut in the slums of Buale, watching the naked, thin black woman showering outside the window, and hearing Dumo say he was afraid, I gradually felt that the balance of power in my game with Jason Jody was beginning to shift towards a more even match.

After washing herself clean, Du Mo put on her scarf again, slipped on her black dress, and went back to the cabin. The food on the tray had been devoured. Du Mo asked if I was full, and I just nodded without saying anything more.

"Mr. Zhui Ma, why don't you take a cool shower by the water tank in the yard and get a refreshing nap?" At that moment, my mind was racing, like the gears of an internal combustion engine. Judging from Du Mo's expression, he seemed determined to leave all his worries for tomorrow.

"You go first, I need to rest for a while," I replied absentmindedly, staring at the cabin's roof and leaning back against my backpack. "Alright, I'll go shower first,"

Du Mo said, quickly stripping off his clothes and walking outside, his bare, shiny black bottom exposed. I reminded him to be quiet while showering and to be mindful of the nearby woods.

And so, Du Mo squatted by the water tank in the yard, scooping up cool water and pouring it over his head. The dark-skinned woman, Doguwa, had returned to the yard and was gently washing Dumo's back with her thin, slender hands.

Her movements were tender; Dumo, this robust, tall, and honest young African man, was her life's support, a warm and sturdy support.

Moonlight streamed through the cracks in the small window, and the starry sky outside was unusually bright. A short while later, Dumo, dripping wet and barefoot, quietly returned to the cabin, looking at me with a half-smile.

I remained leaning against my backpack, glancing sideways at him, waiting for him to speak, but I guessed what he wanted to say. "Um, that… this… Mr. Zhuima, could you… could you give me a condom?"

Dumo seemed a little embarrassed; the dim light in the cabin couldn't completely hide his awkward expression. Dumo wasn't embarrassed about the sex itself; he just felt that, at this critical juncture, he still wanted to have sex with Doguwa.

"Hmm." I replied coldly, gesturing for him to look down at his feet. Two stacks of purplish-red condoms were neatly arranged there. "Oh! Mr. Chase, you're so kind." Dumo's awkward expression finally relaxed. He bent down to pick up the condoms and hurriedly walked out.

I called Dumo back, saying I wanted to take a shower in the yard to wash off the salt and sweat from my skin. He and Doguwa could stay in the small house and make love. After I showered, I would sit in the main room and sleep on the wooden planks if I got sleepy. They could just ignore me.

Dumo hesitated for a moment, but readily agreed. This fat kodo beast had indeed grown a lot since our long journey together and the incident at the Beiru Hotel.

When he took off his boots, pulled out fifty US dollars, and gave it to Doguwa to buy this woman, he only thought about taking her back to the small house, quickly washing her skin clean, and then impatiently carrying her to bed to begin his ritual of ending his sexual emptiness.

At that time, Dumo had no idea that condoms existed. He even hated the feeling of being wrapped in a layer of film, longing to be completely pressed against a woman's moist flesh, to fully experience his pent-up desires.

Meanwhile, Doguwa was already three months pregnant. This "unplanned pregnancy" naturally no longer posed a concern for Dumo. Frankly speaking, given Dumo's primitive level of sexual awareness at the time, he couldn't even imagine, let alone consider, whether a strange woman's body might harbor germs or even viruses.

This was also where Dumo differed from the urban men of South Africa. Those men, passing by Doguwa kneeling in the street, while experiencing a surge of desire and fantasy, considered this a crucial factor among their many concerns.

Now, Dumo's initiative in asking for a condom shows that he had matured and understood how to cherish Doguwa. Easy mobile reading: wαр.⑴⑹ｋ.cn

Although a pitiful woman like Dorguwa, no matter how much one vents on her, no matter how much one only cares about one's own pleasure and ignores her constant pregnancies and miscarriages, she remains gentle and submissive without complaint, Dumo is not a scoundrel.

Dumo is still suspicious of the two dancers at the Beiru Hotel, lingering fear of a terrible consequence. If he really is as unlucky as that South African mine owner, using a condom would greatly reduce the possibility of his woman being harmed. At the same time, he is also somewhat worried about Dorguwa. If this woman, actively or passively, has an affair with another man during the time she is separated from Dumo, then Dumo also needs to be careful to prevent himself from being unintentionally harmed by her.

Chapter 303: The Ticket to Meet God

I dragged my backpack to the main room, then walked to the water vat in the courtyard. My AK-47 rifle, loaded with bullets, and two gleaming daggers were placed on a crossbeam beside me. Stepping onto a slightly raised stone slab, I grabbed a damp ladle and poured water over my shoulders.

While washing away the sweat and salt from my body, I glanced around at the trees behind them. The feeling of the water seeping into my skin made me breathe a deep sigh of relief.

Back in the main room of the cabin, Dumo and Duoguwa had already finished their first round of intimacy. I was exhausted, and lying down on the wooden plank with my weapons in my arms, I fell into a deep sleep.

Later that night, weak moans came from inside the cabin. Dumo must have been using a second condom; otherwise, he wouldn't have stopped and gone to sleep. After two sexual encounters, Dumo, with a long, light weariness, finally embraced the thin woman and fell silent.

It's not hard to imagine the overwhelming impact that would be on Doguwa's body, with its large and robust frame pressed beneath her

by Dumo. Dumo could no longer treat her with the same brutality he showed the hotel dancers. Those women had full, firm buttocks, trembling flesh, and the resilience honed through the art of sexual intercourse; they naturally wouldn't be unable to withstand it and would eventually soothe Dumo until he was exhausted.

However, no matter how healthy and moist Doguwa's organs were, her bones were relatively porous, and there wasn't enough muscle and fat between her skin and bones to provide cushioning elasticity. I could hear it with my ears: Dumo wasn't completely pressing down on this sex life he had bought for fifty dollars. He seemed to be controlling his strength, turning to his side or pulling Doguwa to his lower abdomen to complete this journey of lovemaking.

The night is alluring and wondrous. Just hours before, the Black woman in this shop had been impeccably dressed, leading us with gentle laughter and conversation. But now, she lay naked beneath Dumo, moaning with ecstatic eyes. A

slight smile played on my lips. I thought to myself that Dumo hadn't lied to me; there was indeed a beautiful affection between him and Duoguwa—a tender, intimate connection, not the kind of sadistic, sensual pleasures I'd heard about in hotels.

The African landscape was exceptionally majestic. The sun rose early, its blinding white light streaming onto the floor of the cabin. When I opened my eyes, Dumo was still asleep, his dark buttocks raised. The Black woman, Duoguwa, had already quietly withdrawn, bringing a plate of fresh fruit and placing it beside me.

My limited language skills prevented me from communicating with this woman with her delicate features. Her eyes were lowered, seemingly lacking the courage to meet my gaze, perhaps ashamed of the panting she'd endured the night before.

This was clearly a respectable woman. Though she hadn't been swept away by the tide of urban desires, she still retained a beautiful sense of shame. Dumo's initial willingness to buy her wasn't based on a quick glance at her character, but rather on her appearance—she was his type.

I clearly remember him showing this inclination at the small dockside inn in Madagascar, being attracted to two of the women sitting on the sofas in the corridor. Even then, I had begun to study Dumo's habits.

I smiled slightly at the woman and sat up, until she shouldered her wooden basket again and retraced her steps from the previous night, returning to her small pawnshop on the second floor.

I wasn't going anywhere; I would just sit in this little wooden hut, slowly eating my food, trying to calm my mind and body. Dumo was a shrewd fellow; he should at least understand that while making a wish to me might increase his chances of survival, he should also consider the consequences if he couldn't fulfill it.

Dumo was still fast asleep, showing he hadn't had a full night's sleep after their encounter. He needed to carefully plan his next move and confide in Doguwa.

Most importantly, he needed to understand why Jason Jody had arranged for his woman to be at the pawnshop where the mission was supposed to take place. Only by figuring out the details could he better understand Jason Jody, his intentions, and the threat he faced.

Doguwa had already left. Dumo must have already instructed Jason Jody's informant on how he wanted her, since he knew the situation on the Sea Demon and the personalities of everyone better than I did.

"Mr. Chase, you're up so early. Won't you get some more sleep?" I looked up at Dumo. His usual playful expression had vanished, replaced by a serious look. Perhaps he was particularly preoccupied today, worried that Doguwa would be beaten up by the other pirates when she relayed his message.

“Oh! Can’t sleep, might as well eat something.” I said casually, but Dumo understood the underlying meaning. “Sigh!” Dumo sighed, sitting down in front of me in his shorts.

He looked outside for a moment, then turned to me. “Mr. Chase, do you remember the woman from the tea plantation, Camilla?” Dumo’s face fell, looking particularly sad.

“Doguwa is a good woman. In your current state, she’s the only woman in the world you can hold in your arms and vent your frustrations in the dead of night without feeling guilty.”

I meant to tell Dumo that I didn’t want anything to happen to Doguwa either, but he needed to understand that Jason Jodi could still gouge out her eyes and throw her into a hyena cage to be torn to pieces.

I also wanted Dumo to understand that the reason he had no choice was because of Jason Jodi alone. If Dumo were to become confused and try to outsmart me to seek mercy on the Sea Demon, I could kill him and Doguwa just the same.

Compared to Jason Jody, although the methods were equally cruel, the nature of the two actions was different. Dumo stopped beating around the bush and finally revealed his thoughts, which he had pondered all night.

Another thing I valued about Dumo was his ability to remain calm in crucial moments. His wisdom told him he had to stay close to me; only by sidelining Jason Jody could he and Doguwa have a good ending.

I had already made Dumo realize this during our previous trip. If Dumo were a clueless fool, I would have seized the opportunity on the way and let him be beaten to death, forcing Jason Jody to change his caregiver.

For me, I had to buy time by stalling for time; it was a self-preservation strategy with no other choice. Once this mission was over, the women on the ship and I would be on the gallows.

God always gives people a way out; it's just a matter of whether people seize the opportunity. Dumo being my caregiver was precisely where God showed me mercy.

Dumo's wisdom was also God's mercy towards him. Dumo had vaguely sensed that even if he successfully completed this mission, Jason Jody's reward for him might very well be two free tickets to meet God.

Chapter 304: Doguwa Who Didn't Return at Night

This was precisely the self-righteous Jason Jody who kept shooting himself in the foot. The more he tried to tighten the ropes controlling me and Dumo, the more it backfired.

Pushing Dumo to the brink was Jason Jody's mistake, because he went too far and refused to leave him a way out. So, I left Dumo a way out, and that's why this pirate strongman began to tell me his true thoughts.

"Mr. Chase, I thought it through last night and also told Doguwa about demanding a hostage back from the Sea Demon." I lowered my head and remained silent, coldly wiping my gun.

Du Mo knew that now was the time for him to use his brain to come up with a plan. If he continued to act as carefree and frivolous as if he were still on the road, it would not be of any real use in helping me exchange a hostage. In that case, he would definitely not live more than three days and would die at my hands.

“On Koyama Island, as I promised you, I explained everything in detail to Doguwa. I told him you were very concerned about their safety and wanted to randomly take a hostage back to test whether Jason Jodi had been keeping his promise.”

Seeing that I was still silent, Dumo continued, “Of course, those words had to be subtly integrated into the actual progress of the mission, otherwise Jason Jodi would become suspicious. Doguwa will tell them that you will independently find targets between Buale and Baidabo, and that you can complete the mission in less than half a month. In your eyes, this is just a small matter; tracking and killing are second nature to you. And he will reiterate that as long as everyone keeps their promises, everything will go smoothly and the plan will be accelerated.”

I pulled the bolt of my sniper rifle, aimed at the woods outside the cabin a few times, and said calmly to Dumo, “You made the right choice. I didn’t misjudge you.”

Upon hearing this, Dumo scratched the back of his head and smiled with narrowed eyes. “If I were confused, how could I have made it this far alive? You can protect my life, and you can also protect Doguwa.”

Although my expression remained unchanged, my heart skipped a beat. Dumo’s words had a double meaning! He said he was able to enter Buale alive not only because I had saved his life twice, but also because I hadn’t killed him on the way.

This shiny black kodo beast had been weighing his value to me all along, and he had even pushed Doguwa’s safety onto me. In other words, while he was helping me get Luya, Yiliang, and the others to escape the Sea Demon, I also had to find a way to protect his woman. Otherwise, Dumo would be disheartened and lose his enthusiasm for favoring me.

“Oh! I told you, Doguwa is a good woman. You should cherish her.” My expression softened a bit. Dumo understood my coded message, his bulging eyes narrowed a few times, and his expression showed relief.

The Black woman, Doguwa, did not return that night. Clearly, she had been taken away by the pirates on the Sea Demon who were responsible for making contact. However, she was not in any immediate danger. Dumo had not revealed any rebellious intentions and was still Jason Jodie's subordinate, so he still had value to be used.

The next day at noon, the sun was exceptionally scorching. A woman carrying a wooden basket walked along a path in the woods in front of the house. She seemed unfazed by the ultraviolet rays, unlike the city women who carried parasols and were overly concerned about their faces, afraid of getting a tan.

When Dumo saw this woman approaching, he rushed out to greet her like a cat finding a sparrow with a broken wing in the yard. He took Duoguwa's hand, and the two smiled, their white teeth gleaming, like a pair of young lovers in their first love.

I sat shirtless, cross-legged in the main room, watching the man and woman in the distance, one tall, one short, one fat, one thin.

Dumo's rush out to greet Duoguwa seemed out of worry and anticipation, but in reality, he wanted to know how things were progressing.

This information had to first enter his big brain, be processed, and then he could tell me in detail. Although I didn't understand their language, I could roughly guess what they were talking about from their eyes and expressions. Du Mo, fearing I might overthink things, cautiously went out to greet them.

"Mr. Zhui Ma, Mr. Zhui Ma..." Du Mo, holding Duo Guwa's thin, withered hand, dragged the woman carrying a flower basket and wearing a black dress along behind, shouting excitedly even before entering the wooden house.

Objectively speaking, I was also eager to see this delightful situation. Du Mo, with his shiny black forehead and grinning white teeth, took a few deep breaths and hurriedly said,

"It's done, it's done! Wow! This old devil has some magnanimity; after hearing Duo Guwa's words, he readily agreed to our request."

I suddenly raised my sniper rifle, pointing the muzzle at Du Mo's heaving chest. He trembled in fright, and Duo Guwa gasped, letting out a startled cry.

"Get out of the way, don't block my way!" Du Mo blinked instantly, his right hand grabbing Duo Guwa's small waist and pulling her to the side.

Through the sniper scope, the T-shaped crosshair revealed the faint outline of the woods. With a light sweep, he accurately focused on the lens of a pair of binoculars. If he just pulled the trigger slightly, an eyeball two hundred meters away would instantly explode into dust.

A guy leaning against a tree, wearing a gray vest, was spying on the wooden house through binoculars. Suddenly, a dark gun muzzle appeared in his line of sight, pointing directly at his left eyeball.

He also saw a fierce, bloodthirsty eye glaring at him through the sniper rifle's scope. He was so frightened that he fell backward, picked up the dropped binoculars, and ran into the depths of the woods. In his panic, he nearly crashed into a tree trunk and died.

I lowered my sniper rifle, and Dumo, still shaken, cursed, "Damn it, Jason Jody's eyeball."

I looked up at Dumo, who told me that Jason Jody had agreed to release Luya and hoped I would track down the target quickly and complete the mission cleanly.

He had also arranged for someone to rent an apartment for Dumo and me in Buale, complete with a bathroom, fruit, television, and everything else—a truly luxurious place. He hoped we could enjoy ourselves while continuing our efforts to complete the mission and return to the Sea Demon for a grand celebration.

Jason Jody also instructed Doguwa to tell me not to forget what I had said: after the mission, I should join him on the pirate ship and roam the seas, enjoying a life of luxury.

"Hmph." After hearing Dumo's account, a smile crept onto my lips. That old bastard Jason Jody had a good memory; he still remembered the lies I'd told when I tried to save my life. However, I wasn't some nine-lived raven who could escape alive after having his beak cut off.

Everything seemed to have taken a turn for the better. The thought of seeing Luya soon filled me with indescribable joy.

"Mr. Zhui Ma, um... can you, can you..." Du Mo stammered again. I understood what he meant and said calmly. "How many do you want?"

Du Mo's smile was practically radiating from his buttocks. He quickly took the condoms I gave him, grabbed a damp towel, and dragged Duo Guwa into the inner room.

He wanted to wipe his woman's sweat, which of course required removing Duo Guwa's scarf and black dress first. Wiping her back and forth turned into touching her, and touching her back and forth consumed two condoms.

Chapter 305: Buying Women in the Slums
The hot air flowed through the courtyard. The dry, stifling heat made every piece of wood in the small house seem like a thirsty mouth, waiting to suck away the moisture hidden beneath the skin.

Dumo and Duoguwa were excitedly engaged in their activities inside the wooden hut. Although I was shirtless, my bulging, muscular body was covered in sweat, with glistening beads occasionally rolling off, hitting the wooden planks, and then quickly evaporating. The

bright sunlight illuminated the grove of trees in front of the hut, making it clear that no danger lurked there. I picked up my rifle and went to the water vat to wash myself, finally feeling a little better.

Dumo didn't linger too long with Duoguwa. As soon as the scorching sun passed its peak, the three of us prepared to leave. These small wooden huts built in the slums were very close together, one next to another, stretching as far as the eye could see.

Unlike before, there were no ragged, laughing, chasing children here. Their stomachs were empty, so they wouldn't engage in such a life-consuming game for them.

In every household in the slums, most of the older girls had gone to work in Buale. They needed to earn some shillings to feed their unemployed parents and younger siblings.

It's no exaggeration to say that with Dumo's current power and the capital tucked into his boots, he could easily choose any pretty girl in this seemingly endless slum. He

could simply place a thick stack of shillings on the table in a girl's wooden house, take her hand, and elope. Or perhaps, he could take someone's beautiful wife, even though that stack of shillings was only enough to exchange for a ten-euro note.

Doguwa was a delicate woman. Although Dumo often eagerly pulled her into intimacy, when she was in a good mood, her every gesture exuded gentleness. The suffering etched into her life still flowed in her blood.

She seemed destined to be forever led by Dumo's bread and wooden bed, but Dumo had decided to cherish her; he had found a feeling.

The pedophile who enjoyed putting other men's women and children in cages and carrying them around was psychologically seeking this kind of pleasure. But for him, this pleasure was like that of an addict who had lost his sensitivity to constant doses of morphine, so he became a pervert.

Before leaving, Doguwa made sure to lock the door of the dilapidated wooden house. She seemed to consider it her home, a place she could return to if she ever had nowhere else to stay.

In this woman's eyes, this rent-free wooden house was like a wealthy person's mansion that they couldn't bear to abandon. Only Dumo and I knew that we would never be able to return to this little wooden house.

In the late afternoon, Dumo and I finally arrived at the apartment that Jason Jodi had prepared for us. Even though it was broad daylight, I had painted my exposed skin a jet-black sheen, but the three of us still circled around to the back of the slums, heading diagonally towards the hillsides behind Buale.

A three-story apartment building, painted a pale yellow, sat nestled among villas, waiting to be occupied. In Buale, only the "upper class" could afford and live in such a residential area.

The city's unprincipled, bullying thugs wouldn't dare cause trouble in this area, and the other apartment buildings nearby were presumably inhabited by powerful and influential people.

Just looking at the armed guards at the gate confirmed the warning the shopkeeper from Bilo City had given us: outsiders like Dumo, wandering around these areas in the dead of night or even broad daylight, would be easily shot.

Jason Jody, wanting me to complete the mission more quickly and efficiently, and to fulfill his dream of dominating the Sea Demon, simply elevated Dumo and me to the upper class, keeping us away from the chaos down below, allowing us to focus all our energy on the mission.

The apartment building we were staying in also had four or five guards standing at the entrance, all wearing leather boots and matching camouflage uniforms.

This was a living advertisement, a clear message: anyone willing to pay to buy or live in such an apartment would have a secure and safe life.

It seemed those men who appeared to be idly strolling the streets with rifles were actually guarding their territory. In slightly larger cities like Buale, the division of power among territories was even more complex and intense.

The guards at the apartment gate immediately opened the iron gate as soon as they saw Doguwa approaching with his basket, their dark faces beaming with smiles to welcome the three of us.

I knew perfectly well that one of these guards must be someone from the Sea Demon; otherwise, why would they welcome us into the apartment without checking any identification?

While craning my neck to observe the building, I kept glancing at the guards out of the corner of my eye, trying to figure out which one was an informant from the Sea Demon.

From the moment Dumo told me about Jason Jodi renting a luxury apartment for us, I understood the old man's hypocritical intentions—to control me and monitor my every move.

Now it seems that Jason Jodi's readily agreeing to my demands and returning Luya to me was essentially the same as not releasing a hostage at all; he had simply changed Luya's cage, locking her up with me. Objectively, Luya and I are still in Jason Jodi's grasp.

Inside the apartment, the ground floor has a 300-square-meter living room. Going up the spiral staircase to the second and third floors, there are several bright, large windows.

The apartment isn't luxurious; it looks like it's just undergone simple renovations. The walls are bare, with no stylish picture frames or dazzling chandeliers.

All the tables, chairs, and even the soft bed in the bedroom are clearly either taken from or forcibly removed from a luxury liner.

The Somali pirates, who not only rob and extort ransom, also have a very rustic style. Even when faced with stylish, luxurious, and beautiful home furnishings, they would still smash them down with axes and hammers and carry them onto their fishing boats.

Back in Somalia, in a market with scarce and limited goods, they could exchange them for a considerable income.

The few soft beds resembling Simmons mattresses before them, with marks of axe hammer blows on the legs, made it easy to imagine the mindset and mentality of those guys at the time.

Upon reaching the living room on the first floor, Dumo grabbed two large, yellow oranges from the dining table, bit off the peel of one, and handed it to Duoguwa. "Eat, eat as much as you want, it's free. Damn it, you might as well eat it!"

Duoguwa smiled slightly at Dumo's comical face, took the fruit, and put his mouth to the bitten orange peel, sucking on it with gusto.

Chapter 306: The Clown on the Sea Demon.

Dumo, needing to urinate, rushed into the bathroom, still shouting as he bit off the fruit. "Doguwa, check where the refrigerator is, see if there's any barbecue in it."

I walked to each window, where I could see the verdant mountains behind the building and a bird's-eye view of the entire city of Buale to the side. In the distant bustling streets, citizens were thronging back and forth, busy with their own lives.

Dumo, emerging from the bathroom, saw the soft bed in the bedroom, lifted his large buttocks, and plopped down on it. Immediately, the Simmons-like bed creaked and groaned.

"Damn, high society life is so enjoyable, Doguwa, Doguwa..." Dumo called out to his woman from the next bedroom, seemingly lost in ecstasy. This guy must want to try what it's like to roll around on top of a woman.

I pulled out the sniper rifle from my backpack and tested its maximum range from every angle of the window, as well as checking for any cover that might obstruct my fire.

Doguwa, clutching her fluffy, silky black dress, hurriedly ran upstairs and into the bedroom where Dumo was lying. With a woman's cry, Dumo pulled her onto the soft bed, and the two began to squirm and kiss.

Since meeting Dumo, this woman's black dress had been removed by him countless times.

Tonight, Doguwa would be staying with us. According to Dumo, Luya would be brought to this apartment by Jason Yodi's men the following evening. I pondered for a moment, thinking it was time to meet with Xuan Ya.

The changing situation required informing him as soon as possible so that new adjustments and countermeasures could be made. Dumo and his woman frolicked in the apartment all day. He even chased Doguwa, who had her top and black dress removed, all over the house, ignoring me during their flirtatious moments.

Although the woman was a little embarrassed, she could only helplessly accompany Dumo's fun under his relentless pressure. At this moment, I felt no joy whatsoever; a more serious problem began to swirl in my mind. A

thin, dark woman, her small, delicate breasts hanging limply, ran back and forth before me, while Dumo, naked from the waist down, played with her with all his might.

I saw another completely naked adult Black woman. Doguwa's abdomen was flat, and the soft, indistinct tuft of downy hair had undoubtedly been caressed and kissed countless times by Dumo. However, Doguwa's buttocks were somewhat flat, and her two extremely thin, dark legs were full of bony beauty.

The hand of time can soothe everything. When I first came into contact with Black women, I found it difficult to be aware of their gender, but after a few encounters, I began to develop a sense of beauty and ugliness towards Black women, and I began to feel that kind of attraction that men have for women.

The setting sun sank behind the mountains behind the building, becoming large and red, and the wind blowing in through the window carried a warmth only found in spring. At this moment, what I looked forward to most was the arrival of night.

I searched every corner of the apartment, finding no surveillance or listening devices. Then I called over Dumo, who was having a good time, and had him send Doguwa away so

we could have a serious talk. "Dumo, this conversation is a matter of life and death. Listen carefully. Otherwise, you and Doguwa will suffer the same fate as Camilla." I sat down in a chair, my expression serious, and stared at Dumo opposite me.

"Wh...what!" Dumo's face turned red with fright. The mission was nearing its end, and he was stunned by my unprecedented expression.

"Is Doguwa reliable?" I asked Dumo. "Mr. Zhuima, you're not...you're going to hurt Doguwa, are you?" Dumo stammered.

"Hmph, if I hurt Doguwa, wouldn't I be the same as Jason Jodi?" I said coldly. "Once you understand the truth of this mission, you'll understand what I mean."

Dumo was visibly surprised, his eyes widening. "The target of this mission is your true leader: the Pirate King!" Dumo trembled again, his dark red face turning green. He stood there dumbfounded, swallowing hard, speechless.

"This happened before you joined the pirates..." I told Dumo the whole story, of course, the part involving the Raven needed to be kept secret for now. After hearing all this, Dumo was like a puppet suspended in the air, mouth agape. "

In the cabin, I said something to you, that you made the right choice. You should understand now!" At this moment, Dumo's mind was racing, his thoughts unable to settle.

"So, once Doguwa is bribed by Jason Jodi, she's destined to be a tragic cannon fodder. And, you can't reveal a single word about this truth to him, otherwise..." I didn't finish my sentence, leaving it for him to ponder.

Dumo's daytime joy had vanished completely. He seemed to have understood the situation; the more seemingly calm and promising the situation appeared, the greater the storm lurked beneath.

"My God! This mission has uncovered such a shocking secret. I was just thinking that after this mission, I'd definitely find a chance to sneak some money off the Sea Demon and run away with Doguwa. Looking at it now, I was so damn naive."

Dumo swallowed hard again, then exclaimed, "Jason Jody seems magnanimous on the surface, but deep down he's very suspicious and extremely narrow-minded. He'd chop off my head without hesitation if I had a hundred."

I glanced out the window at the sky.

“Mr. Chase Horse, you are truly remarkable. Your abilities far exceed what I, Du Mo, anticipated. If you hadn’t told me all this, little Du Mo wouldn’t even know how he died.”

Du Mo puffed out his cheeks, slammed his hand on the table in a burst of energy, and said viciously, “Since he regards me, Du Mo, as worthless as grass, the next time we meet on the ship, I’ll shoot him dead, and then tell all the pirates to welcome the true pirate king.”

Upon hearing Du Mo’s words, I clenched my right fist, arched my index finger at the knuckles, and smacked his forehead hard.

"You're still acting recklessly. Even a fool could figure it out: so many of his men ostracize and despise you. What does that tell you? It means he's secretly built a network. In reality, those pirates each time receive a thousand times more wealth than you, because you're an outsider in that colluding force. Even if they know the real pirate king is returning to the Sea Demon to regain power, who will continue to favor them in the distribution of spoils, like that imposter pretending to be a big-butt turtle? You're sometimes quite foolish."

Du Mo, his fat hands rubbing his forehead where I'd just hit him, stared wide-eyed, dumbfounded. Only now did he understand.

On the Sea Demon, he'd been treated like a clown, a plaything. What infuriated him even more was that after each raid, after everyone received the same share of wealth in front of him, they'd secretly divide it up again, and even the smallest share was hundreds of times Du Mo's.

At this moment, Du Mo must have been furious, his liver throbbing and sparks flying from his seven orifices. "Alright, it's getting late. I need to sneak out in the dark. Whether your woman, Duoguwa, lives or dies depends on whether I can return unnoticed before dawn."

Du Mo hesitated for a moment, then, seeing that I was about to poke his forehead with my knuckles, he quickly raised his hand to cover it. "You, you..."

I shouted, "What? Yi Liang and Chi Chun are still trapped on the Sea Demon. Do you expect me to go out and take them away now, leaving you and Duoguwa behind?"

Du Mo's big eyes darted around, and he immediately said with an embarrassed expression, "That's not what I meant. Could you give me another condom?"

I ignored Dumo, knowing he was just joking. At this point, even if a box of condoms were placed in front of him, he wouldn't be able to get an erection. The

night was slightly cool, and the bright yellow moon was hidden behind the mountains, its light temporarily obscuring the apartment building. Dumo, carrying Duoguwa, went to the living room on the first floor. He placed the woman on the dining table, letting her emit extreme moans during intercourse to attract the attention of the guards outside the door.

Meanwhile, I, with my sniper rifle slung over my shoulder, climbed out of the window, crouching low as I stepped onto the edge of the roof... Yan'er jumped to the hillside behind the house, ran in a big circle into the city center of Buala, and went to find him at a fruit shop on a street corner that Xuan Ya had told me about.

Chapter 307: The Soul-Withering Conch of Burma .

As he ran through the city of Buala in the dead of night, he dodged the armed night patrollers. Every few hundred meters, he would encounter a group of black men carrying rifles, muttering to themselves, perhaps chatting to pass the long, boring night.

The moon in the night sky was very round, casting long shadows on the city's neon lights. The dimming light returned, and at the exits of some straight streets, four or five gaunt, dark figures could be seen standing in the distance.

Faced with this unavoidable situation, I had to climb over the two-story houses huddled together on either side, crouching low as I scrambled across the rooftops, leaping over the heads of these night owls like a bat.

Most of the residents below carried guns, so I had to tread very lightly to avoid some sharp-eared individual rushing out and firing a few shots at me.

After running for over an hour, I finally reached the rooftop of the fruit shop where the Crow was staying, marked by a red dot on the back of the miniature map. The

shop was also a two-story building, backed by a grove of trees. Whether going out or seeking shelter, one could easily jump out of the second-floor back window, sniping or disappearing with a sniper rifle.

I crouched on the roof for a few seconds, checking my surroundings for anyone else. Just as I was about to lean down along the roof's eaves to gently knock on the window with the signal, I heard someone behind me say, "Don't knock, I'm here."

Startled, I recognized the Crow's voice and slowly turned around, looking at him with a puzzled expression. Even in the darkness, his face was covered, revealing only a pair of bright, cold eyes.

"There's a fishing line strung close to the ground on the roof. When you jump over, the little bell by my bed on the second floor tells me that my waiting companion has arrived." "Time was of the essence, so we didn't waste any time. We sat cross-legged on the rooftop, bathed in the silvery moonlight, and began our conversation.

I told Xuan Ya about Jason Jody's intentions to manipulate me and Du Mo, and also explained our current predicament. I told him that he needed to rescue Luya and Duoguwa first, according to my plan.

Xuan Ya is a master; I didn't need to explain much. He understood how to proceed, which was the best approach. Xuan Ya told me that the Sea Demon had already left the deserted island and was currently lingering in the northern Indian Ocean." In this area

, to protect their merchant ships from pirate attacks in the waters near Somalia, various countries are frequently deploying escort naval vessels. Therefore, the Sea Demon is very likely disguised as a fishing boat or merchant ship and hiding in the Seychelles.

I guessed this too. Doguwa relayed my thoughts to Jason Jodi, and Luya on the Sea Demon was brought to her apartment by the pirates the following evening. It's certain that the Sea Demon is very close to Somalia; otherwise, even using a super speedboat wouldn't have been enough to accomplish this.

"I also suspect this. Since the Somali pirates have been fighting the warlords of Lower Juba, the Sea Demon has also appeared in this area. They are very likely exporting their weapons to the Somali pirates to help them fight the warlords on land." After

listening to my words, Xuan Ya pondered for a while before hesitantly nodding and saying. "This pirate king puppet's moves are extremely strange. It seems that he is colluding with and winning over a new pirate group, but in reality, he is probably looking for an opportunity to eliminate his rivals who want to share the spoils." "

Hearing what Raven said, I couldn't help but admire him. After all, he had dealt with the Sea Demon before. To escape Jason Jody's knife with a bloodied and mangled face, he naturally understood the old man's mentality better than anyone else.

If that group of Somali sailors really got into a fight with the warlord of Dewar-Hant, they would most likely accept the Sea Demon's aid, with the slogan: 'Pirates are one family, helping and supporting each other, so that life at sea will be easier.'" "

But Jason Jody's intentions were utterly treacherous. He had seized the opportunity, hoping his pirate crew would board the Somali sailors' large ships to help them fight against the land warlords, while simultaneously gathering thorough information about the weapons and layout of their warships, as well as the combat skills and intensity of their crew.

Later, when the Sea Demon wanted to wipe out the Somali sailors, it could simply find a sparsely populated area, lure them there, and easily defeat them, eliminating its adversaries.

However, what Raven told me next was what worried and frightened me the most. He had been investigating the movements of the other four hostile assassins, especially trying to find out which two formidable men had been hired by the Sea Demon, so that he could understand their characteristics beforehand should they engage in battle."

"Withering Soul Conch" and "Baba Tu" are two of the darkest among the eight top assassins. Rumor has it that two of these top assassins are women, and Withering Soul Conch is one of them.

When she truly left Myanmar and entered the international headhunting market, various mercenary organizations in Southeast Asia said with lingering fear, "The female plague goddess has finally been sent away. From now on, the mercenary market in Europe will be shaken."

Developed regions have plenty of money. As long as Withering Soul Conch has collected her commission, she doesn't care how powerful the backers are behind the targets she kills. Even the employer of the "Water of Fate" she was assigned to protect, she once killed.

Although she was almost killed by "Water of Fate" that time, Conch knew in her heart that "Water of Fate" would not let her go and would come looking for her sooner or later.

"Now, the only thing that can be confirmed is that Baba Tu has boarded the Sea Demon. He will replace Love Prisoner and work with you to hunt down the Pirate King. You need to hurry." "Like I said before, don't be intimidated by the enemy. We're not weak either. The Heavenly Slave will arrive in Buale the night after tomorrow, just waiting for you to rescue the three key hostages. Then we'll board a speedboat, infiltrate the Sea Demon, and wipe them out. As for the treasure on the pirate ship, you and I should only take a little; the rest has already been seized by the Heavenly Slave."

I frowned slightly and said to the Raven, who was encouraging me, "This commission is quite substantial, so we need to make him achieve more. When I go to find the Pirate King, try to get him to help. First, pair him with the Water of Fate. If he wins, that would be great. If he dies, this cannon fodder won't be wasted; he'll at least get a feel for the Water of Fate's strength and tactics."

"Hmph! The Heavenly Slave isn't a fool. These things need to be said openly. You absolutely cannot use cunning against him. Besides, you've also felt it; although we haven't fought the enemy in a bloody battle, a fierce psychological and political struggle has already begun." "

It was getting late. On the dimly lit rooftop, Xuan Ya and I finalized our new strategic plan before hurrying back to the apartment nestled halfway up the mountain.

Chapter 308: The Return of Lu Ya .

The yellow full moon still hung stubbornly over the mountaintop, so large it was almost overwhelming. I crouched low as I walked along the winding, rocky slope, hiding the money Xuan Ya had prepared for me in a crevice that offered shelter from the rain. Then, I carefully slipped through the window along the back wall of the apartment. When

Du Mo saw me return, he asked with a mixture of worry and joy about the outcome. I told Du Mo to let go..." "If nothing unexpected happens tomorrow and Luya arrives here safely, then Duoguwa's life will be saved."

Dumo wouldn't understand immediately, but he had to believe me, and a smile involuntarily spread across his dark face.

The next evening, a white pickup truck drove up from the foot of the distant mountains. I stood at the third-floor window, raising my binoculars, and could already see a little girl with big, bright eyes sitting in the passenger seat, looking around.

Luya must be eager to know which apartment building this car would take her to, and... I'll definitely be waiting for her at the door.

Six black men with rifles stood in the back pocket of the pickup truck, one of whom even carried a red and yellow SVD sniper rifle, ensuring the safety of the hostage as they crossed the streets of Buale.

Of these guards, only the sniper was a pirate from the Sea Demon; the others seemed to be local guards.

Although Jason Jodie was a powerful figure at sea, he must have paid extra when he rented this apartment, and bribed local officials, allowing the pickup truck to arrive here without firing a shot.

Of course, bribing various... The division of power in various territories didn't cost much, given Somalia's economic decline.

Luya's previously long, black hair was now styled into several beautiful braids, each adorned with a colorful bow. She wore dazzling necklaces and bracelets.

This girl, dressed like a wealthy young lady, jumped down hastily before the small truck that had entered the courtyard had even come to a complete stop, looking up at the four large windows on the front of the apartment building.

I, however, remained standing on the third floor, silently watching her, watching this beautiful girl in a rose-colored suit.

"Zhui Ma!" a shout came from downstairs. Luya, craning her neck, saw me in the third-floor window. She giggled and rushed into the apartment's living room. With a series of rapid footsteps on the stairs, I turned and quietly looked towards the door, expectant yet wanting to hold back the passage of time.

"Zhui Ma! Zhui Ma!" Lu Ya appeared at the door, her anxious, peering gaze finally meeting mine. A slight smile curved my lips as I opened my strong arms to welcome her, who pounced on me like a fawn.

A soft, fragrant body immediately enveloped me, and I held her tightly to my chest, overjoyed.

Lu Ya wrapped her slender arms tightly around my neck, pressing her sweet face against my ear, refusing to let go, as if afraid I would run away.

I pried her arms off, grasped her delicate shoulders, and scrutinized her from head to toe, as if checking something for what was missing when retrieving something from someone else.

Du Mo, carrying a large bag of food, ran upstairs with a wide grin, followed by Duo Guwa. "Mr. Zhui Ma, look, the little truck even delivered champagne and roast pork chops to us!" "

Duoguwa leaned on the doorframe at the top of the stairs, watching from afar as Luya and I reunited. 'That old man, he's quite thoughtful. Knowing you're happy tonight, he specially prepared food so we could celebrate.'

I ignored Dumo's rambling and gazed gently into Luya's clear, deep eyes. After a long while, I asked, 'Did they hurt you? How are Yiliang and Chichun? Are they still safe and sound?' Hearing my voice

, Luya's long-lashed eyes fluttered at me a few times, then she suddenly hugged my neck and burst into tears.

'Waaah, waaah, they, they didn't bully me. Yiliang and the others are fine too. We just missed you so much and were afraid you'd be in danger.'

My heart, which had been clenching, immediately relaxed. I cupped Luya's delicate face in my hands, raised my rough thumb, and wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes. I gently said to her, 'Ha! You're a little pirate on the Sea Demon now, you can't cry so easily!'" Lu

Ya burst into laughter through her tears, wiping away the tears that had slid to the corners of her mouth with the back of her small, pink hand. She stared at Du Mo and Duo Guwa, still sobbing.

Du Mo, his snow-white teeth gleaming, his dark cheeks puffed out like a billboard, stood behind me, craning his neck and grinning at Lu Ya.

"Sir, your teeth are so white! Hehe." Knowing Du Mo was teasing him, Lu Ya instead usurped the spotlight and started teasing him.

Du Mo quickly shut his mouth, smiling at Lu Ya, "Hehe, I'll take that as a compliment. Come, come, this is my lover, Duo Guwa. Isn't she pretty?"

Lu Ya sobbed again, obediently nodding her chin. "Yes, pretty!" Du Mo laughed heartily, beaming with joy. Duo Guwa and Lu Ya smiled at each other and nodded in greeting.

"Duo Guwa, go get the wine glasses and plates. Let's celebrate and chat; let's have a thoroughly enjoyable night." "

Duoguwa is very obedient to Dumo. She's always so submissive. A woman's submissiveness, if she meets a man who cherishes her, will bring her a lifetime of happiness; otherwise, it will lead to a lifetime of unhappiness.

At the dinner table, Dumo drank a lot of champagne. His face was slightly flushed. He put his arm around Duoguwa, who was sitting beside him, and kept kissing the black woman's cheek with his lips, which were smeared with alcohol and grease. Duoguwa was a little embarrassed, but she could only endure Dumo's forceful kisses.

'Mr. Zhuima, look at Luya. She's much stronger than when we left the Sea Demon. Back then, she didn't look nearly as robust as she is now.'"

Dumo was right. Back then, Luya had been living a life of hardship with me, eating mostly bland wild meat, a true picture of outdoor survival.

After I translated Dumo's words, Luya pouted and gestured with her arms, saying, "Yes! On the Sea Demon, the crabs I ate were as big as your hand, the saltwater shrimp were as big as bananas, and there was canned beef, fresh fruit, and as much as I wanted. So, I ate as much as I could to grow up quickly. Only by becoming strong could I survive."

Her Cambodian language left Dumo and Doguwa bewildered. Now, unless translated into English, Dumo couldn't understand Luya's conversations

no matter how hard he tried. Luya's demeanor and speech revealed a significant maturity, especially her sharp, quirky eyes. Behind her mischievousness lay a sophisticated approach to interpersonal relationships.

Chapter 309: The Old Man Who Shoots Seabirds.

Lu Ya's bones and muscles are still weak. If she undergoes two or three more years of training, with the sniping skills I taught her, she might not lose to Du Mo in a fight.

"And another thing, I often sit on the side of your pirate ship fishing for sea fish and lobsters. Once, that old man with the pipe was strolling on the deck. He chuckled and approached me from behind, saying in a sarcastic tone, 'Little girl, be careful not to get caught by a great white shark and let it drag you into the water. You're so tiny, you wouldn't even be enough to fill a great white shark's teeth.'" After

hearing Lu Ya's words, Du Mo laughed heartily with his thick, oily lips wide open, saying, "That old man with the pipe loves to say hurtful things. He's full of malice."

When Lu Ya heard Du Mo call Jason Jody an old man, she shook her head dismissively and seriously corrected Du Mo's words.

"No, no, no, he's not some old geezer. Whenever the sea is calm, he always carries out his rifle to shoot down the seabirds circling above the masts. He even makes me run around the big deck to retrieve the seabirds he's shot down. I wasn't happy about it at first, but he said, 'You can't just eat all that delicious seafood for nothing; you have to do something for me. I'm skilled enough to kill high-flying birds; you don't have that ability, so you're just a scavenger.' After saying that, he gave a sinister laugh."

Du Mo laughed heartily again after hearing this, as if he had finally found a talkative companion and was indulging in a good chat.

Seeing Du Mo's exaggerated laughter, Lu Ya remained calm and said, "I told that old man, 'I'm not some boatman picking up scraps, it's just a few birds! Give me your gun, I'll shoot them while you go pick them up.' After saying that, he actually handed me the sniper rifle, thinking that if the gun went off in my hand, I would be so scared that I would sit on the ground and cry."

Du Mo quickly stopped laughing and asked with great interest, "And then, did you say that you weren't feeling well today, that you weren't in the right state of mind, and that you would show him your skills when you had the chance, oh ha ha, ha ha?"

Lu Ya stared blankly at Du Mo, raised her eyebrows slightly, and said somewhat unconvinced, "Tch! I shot down three or four albatrosses, each as big as a swan. One of them got caught on the mast, and the old man had to call his men to climb up and get it down for him."

"Hahaha, hahaha..." Du Mo laughed uncontrollably, slapping the edge of the table with his hand. The half-chewed roast meat in his mouth almost spilled from his throat as he laughed. Duo Guwa quickly and gently pushed him away, signaling him to stop laughing so exaggeratedly.

Du Mo suddenly froze, staring at Lu Ya's neck and wrist. By now, the moonlight outside the window had dimmed, and the indoor light had also dimmed. "Oh my! Tsk tsk! Little girl, don't move, let me see."

Du Mo said, gently pulling Lu Ya's small hand from the table and examining it carefully. "Tsk tsk tsk! Good heavens, it's dazzling! This, this is real diamonds!" As

Lu Ya spoke, the sparkling jewels on her wrist dartd around, and with the dimming light in the room, their brilliance gradually became dazzling. Du Mo stared at the several white diamonds on her bracelet, his eyes wide open, unable to look away for a long time.

“Duo Guwa, look at her! Look at that diamond pendant around her neck, it’s huge! It’s like a star plucked from the window. My goodness! When we were robbing ships at sea, we rarely encountered passengers wearing such nice things. We couldn’t even steal a few pieces in a month. I never expected this…”

Seeing Du Mo holding her hand and rambling on and on, Lu Ya stubbornly pulled her hand back.

“What’s so special about it? On your pirate ship, the old man with the pipe often showed me his looted treasures. He was always so proud of himself, saying that you women, do you get breathless and your legs go weak when you see things like this? I said, what’s so special about it? It’s just colored glass marbles. I’ve seen plenty of these things at the street stalls in Cambodia.”

Du Mo was scratching his head and getting impatient listening to Lu Ya’s words. "What! Glass marbles? Little miss, those, those, those are treasures! Do you see how big this house is? If we just pick one from that pile, we could exchange it for seven or eight big houses!" "

Oh! It can really be exchanged for a big house? I didn't know. Before I came, the old man with the pipe had a pirate soldier bring out a box and let me pick out a few things I liked, saying they were little gifts for me."

Lu Ya said unhurriedly, pointing to the diamond pendant hanging around her neck. "The other pendants were too big, I thought they would choke me, so I picked a small one. The old man smiled and said, 'Little girl, these three glass marbles are for you, take them and play with them!'"

Du Mo's mouth was wide open for a long time, and he couldn't close it. Saliva was already dripping from the corner of his mouth. His taste buds were still excited by the aroma of meat and wine. When he heard Lu Ya say that she had picked up the biggest and heaviest diamond necklace, his mouth watered even more.

"My God! Why is there such a huge difference between people?!" Du Mo slapped his thigh repeatedly, almost wanting to cry out to the heavens.

"I spent over a year on the pirate ship, risking my life for that old bastard, stealing countless treasures like these. Every time, he would just accept the things with a stern face and then give me a few dollars to get rid of me. And you, a little kid, actually gave me something so valuable, sigh! This is just too much..."

Before Du Mo could finish, Lu Ya pouted her rosy lips and arched her eyebrows angrily: "Who are you calling a little kid?"

Seeing this, Duo Guwa quickly nudged Du Mo, who was lost in his thoughts, and gave Lu Ya an apologetic smile.

Lu Ya smiled back, revealing that she had just been pretending to be angry, and the two women immediately began to chuckle knowingly.

Du Mo just kept slapping his thigh and sighing, complaining endlessly. It's not entirely Dumo's fault. He risked his life to steal jewels for Jason Jody, only to be given a paltry sum as a reward, and then generously given away these priceless treasures—a

case of using others' money to satisfy his own desires. Dumo was naturally outraged, but he knew that even if he hadn't given some to Luya, some pirates would have squandered the wealth, and he, Dumo, wouldn't have gotten a single piece.

It seemed Dumo would only understand this after his initial shock subsided. Jason Jody was a hypocritical old fox; his flattery of Luya was merely a calculated move, an indirect way to reassure me, to show me he was a friendly pirate leader who kept his promises, and that if I handled things properly, my future would be filled with delicacies and luxury.

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