Black Sail

Six days later.

The fleet had already sailed away from the island.

Black Sail had allocated five Golden Dragons from public funds for Asenxiuo’s burial costs, an amount not considered large; it was just enough for the coffin and the burial site’s material and labor costs.

This rotten man, whose own cat had gnawed at his corpse, had no direct connection to Black Sail; he was just an old boss from forty or fifty years ago, and a token gesture was all that was needed.

Buried in Heaven Port, one could say his soul had returned to its place of origin.

Over the past decade, the undeveloped regions of the island had become a chaotic graveyard for pirates; there were plenty of people to accompany him.

For people like Mika who grew up by the coast, pirates of Hened’s notorious reputation were the horror stories they often heard as children.

During Hened’s days, Asenxiuo was the bogeyman elders used to scare the children with threats like "if you’re not good, you’ll be thrown into a pot, boiled, and eaten."

It seems that the older generation held a special sentiment; now, Hened, serving as an honorary shareholder of Black Sail and enjoying quarterly dividends, as well as holding a significant position on the island, surprisingly dug into his own pocket to add a touch of grandeur to the funeral. An expert team dressed all in black sent off the deceased with an eighteen-ritual salute, a gesture difficult to comprehend.

But this had nothing to do with the fleet that had already set sail.

Of course, Liszt had no time to attend any damn funeral. The fleet’s position was quickly approaching Kersuna Island, still his favorite place to dock and resupply.