"Everybody, stop!" The handsome young man forced himself to endure the piercing agony, stood up shakily with his legs pressed together, and shouted at the top of his lungs, as though venting every grievance he had suffered. It felt indescribably satisfying.
Pairs of eyes blazing with fury fixed on him, sending a chill down his back. But he had already thrown caution to the wind and roared, "You bunch of idiots! What Lord Roy? What Phantom Sword Pirates? They'll soon be history!"
A vindictive thrill filled his heart after he said that, but fear soon followed. What if these people flew into a rage and beat him to death? Damn it, he had gone out to show off today and forgotten to bring bodyguards.
He looked ahead anxiously, only to find the pirates staring at him in astonishment. Augustine was even dumbfounded, stammering, "W-What an amazing Bootlicking Divine Skill. What an abrupt turn. It really catches people off guard."
Solomon also looked at him approvingly. "Is this the legendary tactic of suppressing before elevating? First, you belittle Lord Roy, then suddenly raise him up by saying that Lord Roy will become a true great figure whose name will be recorded in North Blue history for later generations to admire."
The handsome young man was utterly dumbstruck. His words could be interpreted that way? Could it be that these Brain-Dead Fans had completely different thought processes from his? Having narrowly escaped disaster, he could not feel happy at all. Rage rose from his heart, wickedness sprang from his courage, and his urge to court death blazed once more.
"You bastards, can't you listen properly for once? I'm saying that the Phantom Sword Pirates will soon be erased from the North Blue! Just wait—the news of the Phantom Sword Pirates' destruction will