"Yo, Third Brother, long time no see—and you've actually learned how to speak in complete sentences. Not bad. But I should take this round. The first battle is crucial; we can only win, not lose. You still lack experience in the world—I'm afraid you won't be able to handle it."
"Fuck, get lost. Let me do it. I've got a violent temper to begin with. Once I get angry, even I don't know what I'll do, so I should be the one going."
"Since you're all arguing without end, let me do it. I guarantee I'll twist that bastard's head off and use it as a ball to kick around."
"You're all far too hotheaded. Let me go. I'll end this battle in a very gentle way."
"Fuck off. You're usually the most vicious one when you strike, and you call that gentle? Go die."
"Oh ho, what's this? No respect for elders now? I was born a whole thousand years before you. You should call me Big Brother—so why are you cursing your big brother now?"
The moment they heard that they could go down and slaughter to their hearts' content without holding back, these hulking men could no longer contain themselves and began volunteering one after another.
As they argued, they somehow ended up hurling insults, each of them standing on the deck and bickering endlessly.
They were even on the verge of fighting over a single spot.
On the other side, Zifan looked at the densely packed warships in the distance, a trace of confusion flashing through his eyes. What was going on with the Qilin Clan? He had been waiting for quite a while already.
Could it be that the Qilin Clan was all bark and no bite, and they were still choosing who to send?