The battered pirate ship rode the rising waves, its hull listing as it drifted forward and threw up a vast curtain of spray.
The Drowned Crewman clung to the ship's uneven planks and gave Gelman and Ging a hoarse, mocking laugh. The water was already up to their shoulders.
Both men's feet had lost contact with the ground, and they could only keep treading water.
"Hee-hee—hee-hee-hee—"
"Gelman, can you understand what they're shouting?" Ging's old, filthy clothes had soaked up the water and puffed out, as though he had a soft ball tucked into every fold.
"I don't understand their language," Gelman replied, "but I can sense roughly what they're trying to say."
"What are they saying?"
"They say we'll drown here, become wandering spirits, and end up as nourishment for this tower."
Ging laughed, then slapped both hands against the water. He shot out of it and into the air, golden light gathering into a greatsword in each hand as he spun toward the pirate ship.
"Let's see who the real drowned ghosts are around here."
One of the Drowned Crewmen saw him flying toward them and hurriedly swung the iron anchor in its hand, flinging it out like a discus!
Whoosh—
The dripping-wet anchor tore through the air, its chain clanking behind it. If it struck Ging, it could coil around him like a python and drag him into the water.
Ging was undaunted. He deftly met the anchor with his golden Nen Blade. Their weapons clashed with a clang, and he used the force to spring sideways.
He lightly touched the water again, skimming across it like a seabird and gliding toward the pirate ship.
While Ging was outwitting the Drowned Crewman, Gelman unfurled his Silver Wings and rose from the water, hovering in midair.
He caught