And the most eye-catching... was the figure at the bow of the ship, hanging on for dear life.

Suspended in mid-air by chains, he was already on the brink of death.

As if fearing he might die prematurely, a potion hung beside him, slowly dripping into his veins.

The tears had long since dried up.

Only the struggle and despair seemingly etched into his bones remained, as he now saw Harlot Town in the distance, causing him to struggle anew, making muffled sounds.

Rather than excitement, it was more akin to terror.

All he wanted was to escape quickly...

Unfortunately, it was already too late.

A large blood-red hand appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Colonel Jonathan who was suspended in mid-air, and yanked him back into the gathering hall, smashing him onto the floor.

Instantly, he passed out, but more regrettably, not even his father reserved any tenderness for him at this moment; the Blood Flames brutally burned, pierced, and forcefully woke him.

Feeling the numerous injuries and imminent demise inside himself, the soul full of cracks and emptiness, Pacquiao's face grew increasingly cold.

Before he could even ask, Jonathan was already screaming and howling in agony, crawling and tugging at his pants, "Father, Father, it wasn't me, it was the craftsman... it was Ji..."

In that instant, something rolled out from his embrace.

It was a human head.

The crowd couldn't help but gasp; who wouldn't recognize that face? It was Tu Sihai, responsible for money laundering and planning within the Blood-Washing Fleet!

Sudden sounds of people making various excuses to leave filled the air, like someone's father dying, mother giving birth, or old injuries recurring; anyone still staying at this point probably had a death wish.

Sadly, it was too late.

Yet that meticulously preserved head still contained some spiritual residue. Once triggered, the carefully processed alchemical elements released the stored message.

A blurry image appeared in the spiritual glimmer.

Then, a soft sigh followed.

"What a pity, I refuse."

"I detest little brats, especially you adult babies... if you must die, please do so outside Hai Province, don't come to bother me with your presence..."

Those gentle words echoed in the gathering hall, resonating in everyone's ears, even those already outside the door. The sensitivity of the Chosen Ones' senses was tragically heightened, making it impossible not to hear.

"It wasn't me, Father, it wasn't me, I, I, I..."

At this moment, in the torment of Blood Flames, Jonathan convulsed uncontrollably, tears and snot flowing, begging pathetically. However, the more he spoke, the more distorted and bizarre his expression became.

The last implanted suggestion of the Blessing·Ghostly Obsession activated before its collapse, manipulating him like a puppet, making him speak against his will.

"He, he, he told me to tell you... he said... he said..."

Jonathan wailed, crying, unable to cover his mouth. Between his missing fingers, the final message was the indifferent alarm far away in Xinquan:

"—Stay away from my stuff!"

Bang!

In that instant, amidst a loud noise, Jonathan suddenly convulsed, turning to ash under the blow of an iron rod, leaving no trace.

Yet immediately afterward, it seemed as if some chain reaction had been triggered...

The sea trembled and in the howling wind, everyone heard the terrifying explosion from the ghostly ship approaching the port not far away!

The dilapidated ghost ship exploded — flames soaring high, countless Fuel Elements raining down, pouring onto Harlot Town, instantly causing smoke to rise everywhere.

Wails continued incessantly.

Even a few ships docked at the port were caught up in it, eliciting screams of despair from the shipowners and Water Ghosts.

The whole of Harlot Town abruptly plunged into chaos.

Yet throughout it all, General Pacquiao remained silent, wordless, only the branding scar on his face swelling to a blood-red, as if fresh blood had seeped out again...

At this moment, looking down at the fading glow beneath his feet, no light remained in his eyes.

A dense darkness.

After a long time, he finally squeezed out a voice through clenched teeth, hoarse and heavy:

"Ji Jue..."

.

.

The attack on Harlot Town and the humiliation suffered by the General spread among the Water Ghosts in less than half a day.

In these times, who can't afford phones or radios?

With such a big event and so many witnesses, how could it not leak? Moreover, some people were afraid the excitement wasn't enough, fueling rumors from behind, making a huge commotion.

They vividly detailed Pacquiao's furious demeanor, impressively lifelike.

Hence, the preparation and expansion of the Blood-Washing Fleet started again, without any concealment, gathering military resources... Nowadays, reputation concerns not only those on the righteous path, even pirates care about it.

Infamy is also a form of notoriety.

Perhaps even more important!

But if this enmity isn't avenged, then the so-called Blood-Washing General is nothing but a joke.

Fearing he might have to change his name to Clown Pacquiao in the future, making it convenient for people to pee on his face while passing by.

And by the afternoon, Chen Xingzhou made a call to Xinquan.

"You've gone too far this time."

He sighed, "In the Desert Market, your bounty is already up, and it's not cheap. I'm tempted just looking at it. This time, you've really pushed that old guy to the edge, the scale is even bigger than before."

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