“Because we were just attacked by a barbarian tribe in the Annam region, and many of our companions were killed or wounded. In order to maintain our fighting strength, we had no choice but to select some reliable local people to replenish our ranks. The Chinese are smarter and more obedient than the natives.” Henry Clark had already prepared this answer for George, so he replied without any flaw.

Chapter 9 Robbery Without Forgetting God’s Teachings...

Henry Clark was still supporting Captain George, while calculating the distance between himself, Baron Edmond, and Colonel Louis. The surrounding Spanish soldiers were pointing and gesturing at them, showing not a hint of vigilance.

The two guards behind Baron Edmond never took their hands off the pistols at their waists—their duty was to protect the baron’s life.

“However, I can’t help but feel that your Spanish has a strange accent, very much like an artist I know from London, England.” After removing the handkerchief from in front of his mouth and nose, Baron Edmond said this with a hint of curiosity.

As soon as these words were spoken, the atmosphere instantly cooled. The fake smile on Captain George’s face froze. In that moment, Captain George felt the two Chinese pirates holding him suddenly let go. He saw two agile and strong figures dart forward, even faster than the cheetahs he’d seen in India.

Cold sweat broke out on Captain George’s forehead. In the blink of an eye, he saw blood and twisted bodies. The unheard-of hand-to-hand killing techniques sent a chill from his scalp all the way down to his tailbone.

That ruthless young pirate leader, who seemed to have a scheming mind behind every blink, rammed straight into Baron Edmond, knocking him into the air and onto the guard behind him. Immediately after, at a distance too close for a normal person to exert force, he used his knees and elbows to strike the lower abdomens or throats of the surrounding Spanish soldiers. By the time he pressed a sharp dagger against the neck of the baron—whose ribs were at least several broken, and whose face was as pale as lime—three Spanish soldiers had already fallen, completely losing their combat ability. The most miserable one was the soldier whom Henry Clark had kneed in the groin with such force that he was sent flying nearly a meter into the air. When he landed, he was foaming at the mouth, his face purple, both hands clutching his groin, the whites of his eyes filling his sockets in despair. After a few spasms, he moved no more.

Captain George’s pupils contracted, his stomach churned, and he instinctively clutched his crotch, slumping weakly to the deck by the rail.

Edward Reed charged into the crowd almost simultaneously with Henry Clark, but compared to Henry Clark’s violent killing, Edward Reed’s movements could be called art. He rushed up to Louis, who had already drawn his pistol, placed a hand on Louis’s gun-wielding wrist, and with a gentle twist and pull, the pistol changed owners. Louis’s right hand, which had been holding the gun, now dangled in a strange way, as if it had lost all support, like a limp mechanical arm.

Edward Reed picked up the pistol he had just taken from Louis and fired. The bullet grazed Louis’s earlobe and struck the face of the guard behind him, leaving a bloody hole in that despairing face.

He had always kept part of his attention on Henry Clark’s actions, but when Henry Clark swiftly took down those men and held Baron Edmond at knifepoint, Edward Reed’s expression relaxed, though his heart was in turmoil. He never imagined that before today, the young master who only knew how to hack at people with brute force could, at this moment, use a fighting technique he’d never seen before to kill a strong soldier in a single, fluid motion, and then, after rendering the other two soldiers completely powerless, easily take the baron hostage. Such formidable combat ability, such skilled technique—it was as if he were a hardened criminal who had long lived on the edge of life and death, making a living by killing, arson, kidnapping, and extortion. Even Edward Reed himself admitted that, caught off guard, he might not be able to escape the young master’s deadly hands.

But this thought lasted only a moment, because the surrounding Spanish soldiers had already snapped out of their shock from the unbelievable scene just now, and were raising their pistols and swords. However, the important hostages held by Henry Clark and his men made them hesitate.

“Anyone who wants your captain and the baron dead, go ahead and open fire!” Henry Clark shouted loudly in Spanish, using his hostage as a shield along with Edward Reed, retreating to the blind spot by the sterncastle rail.

Scholar Bennett and Monk Brooks had already rushed over to guard the flanks for Edward Reed and Henry Clark. Several other pirates who had just boarded the ship raised their weapons and quickly converged on their position.

Colonel Louis, whose finger joints had been dislocated, flashed a vicious, desperate look in his eyes, like a madman willing to die just to take his enemy with him. “For the honor of Spain, I order—” Before he could finish, a hand suddenly reached from behind, grabbed his cheek, gave it a twist and a pull, and Colonel Louis felt his jaw was no longer his own, the pain bringing tears streaming down his face.