Black Sail

Wolman certainly couldn’t take Fafna to the highest place.

Heaven Port, this city, covered only less than one percent of the large island’s area allotted for human activities.

To reach the highest place, one had to go deep into the deserted primordial jungle of the island, a journey that takes two or three days on foot.

But taking Fafna to a nearby, relatively high cliff was feasible, and they might even catch Liszt and his crew setting out to sea.

The sky wasn’t fully bright yet.

There were hardly any pedestrians on the streets, just the staggering drunkards coming to the end of their nighttime revelries, the addicts with a deathly pallor from an overdose of Ye Zi, and prostitutes just finished their night shifts.

Fafna sat on Wolman’s shoulder with a wide view, clapping her hands joyfully, wearing the necklace Ben had given her, she looked like a normal person.

"Everyone here is so nice."

Fafna looked upon those "good people," who in her eyes were all gentle and harmless despite their tattoos and scars, all appearing happy and free, though their complexions were a bit off.

Holding Fafna with one hand to prevent her from falling, Wolman almost spat blood listening to her.

Your world view certainly needs some correcting. If all these scumbags on this island can be called nice people, outside must be the true Heaven on Earth.