Ten minutes later, Dracule Mihawk was pulled from his thoughts by Shin's voice.
After asking for the reason, Shin raised his head weakly and looked at the sky. He deeply felt that there wasn't a single truly normal person in this world.
Only after making sure the leaf absolutely could not be burned by fire did Dracule Mihawk begin making a fire, half-convinced and half-doubtful.
Making a fire at sea was a technical skill. Most ships in this era were made of wood, so sailors often could not light fires freely. They had dedicated kitchens for cooking.
But such a problem clearly did not trouble Dracule Mihawk. Having devoted himself to becoming the world's greatest swordsman, he had long overcome such trivial matters. After all, when sailing alone, eating was the foremost problem he had to face.
He plunged headfirst into the seawater, unconcerned that it might infect his wounds again. When he surfaced shortly afterward, he was holding a strange fish half a meter long.
This was a common type of fish in the pirate world. Its purpose was not to be eaten, but to be used as fuel. At sea, dry firewood was out of the question, and the damp environment made it extremely difficult to start a fire.
But these deep-sea fish were different. Their fat was excellent fuel, even more effective than petroleum.
Of course, petroleum had not yet been discovered in the pirate world. Or rather, perhaps some people had discovered it but had not put it to use. Even the most advanced Marine fleets relied only on steam-engine propulsion.
It was precisely because of this that they often could not catch up when facing Yang Fan's pirate ship.
A few minutes later, a bonfire was burning atop the emerald-green leaf, and Dracule Mihawk began