My name is Pike, and I'm the best harpooner in Bill Geewater – at least ever.

To many, harpooners are a job at the lowest end of Bilgewater, because all we have to do is blood, fish oil, scales, offal, and other smelly, greasy things.

I never deny it – but a lot of times, I prefer them to see the other side of the harpooner.

The harpooner was Bilgewater's greatest agriculturist.

Agriculturist is an interesting name – and the profession mentioned by the old storyteller at the Whale Tavern, which is said to have been a man in the country of Demacia who helped farmers grow crops, build canals, and raise livestock.

They are said to be the most respected people in Demacia outside of the royal family and soldiers.

Demacia, I know, they are rich in armor and food—armor is horribly expensive, and a complete suit of warrior armor is worth even my salary for the last ten years; And food is terriblely cheap, and no one has a lower price than them.

The lads on board were envious of Demacia's armor, but I knew very well that their grain was worth more than that—I had seen countless Demacian ships laden with grain, but I had never seen them sell more than a hundred pieces of armor at once.

Aren't harpooners the same as agriculturists?

Farmers help Demacia produce more food, and we help Bilgewater produce more fish.

A lot of people like to confuse harpooners and fishermen as much as they confuse farmers and agriculturists.

But such idiots are becoming less and less common in Bilgewater.

Her Majesty Queen Doom, though her name is not very auspicious, and she is a girl, but I never deny that she is the best leader I have ever met.

After the terrible tide of fire, the young men on the ship did not dare to make extra money because of the rules of the Queen of Doom, but in fact, everyone's profits increased.

There is no end to the fish in the sea, but there are a number of merchants on the surface of the sea - and fat sheep are very few.

I love a challenge, but I prefer to be a harpooner, respected, and well-paid.

Before the Queen of Doom came, the ships were in the hands of the robber leaders, and I was always a working fellow - and after she came, I had my own ship, my own man.

Of course, I also need to thank Mr. Rhodes.

Mr. Rhodes is a great mage, and although I haven't met a few, I can be sure of that.

This Mr. Mage was tough, but also easy-going – he once hired me out to fish, and then on the journey, he set his deck chair on the deck to bask in the sun.

It's nothing, I've served some of the "big guys" in the past, and they enjoy it at a much better level than Mr. Rhodes, at least Mr. Rhodes was dressed when he was on deck.

The point is, when the wind calmed down, Mr. Rhodes invited us to come over in the sun – and like the big guys, he didn't like the smell of us, but his choice was "Hey, I've got hot water, you guys need to relax!" ”

Moreover, his remuneration was also very attractive, and the money allowed me to have my own boat, although not large.

I still remember the big warehouse on the slaughterhouse—it was the warehouse of Bilgewater's previous overlord, Ocean Scourge Planck.

Planck was rich, but he didn't pull a dime; Mr. Rhodes wasn't too rich, but he was never stingy.

Arguably, Mr. Rhodes is the hardest person I have ever met, the most difficult to make people jealous and unhappy, he will talk to you on an equal footing, and sometimes he will think from your point of view.

This mission was my second collaboration with Mr. Rhodes – I didn't hesitate to go to Freljord, where I had never arrived.

On the one hand, I never hide my desire for money, and I love gold, but on the other hand, because Mr. Rhodes is reliable.

According to him, he was "going to do a big thing," and the less I knew about it, the better; So after he left, my guys and I stayed in Port Glaser.

No one dared to provoke us, the lads could play cards in the inn, and I was going to draw charts along the way.

Maybe this is a new gold trade route?

An agriculturist needs to know how to grow, hydraulize, and livestock, and a harpooner needs to know how to fish, sail, and hydrology, right?

Pity...... Something seems to have gone awry.

As soon as Mr. Rhodes left the port of Glaser, my work on the charts was soon interrupted.

Derps found me, and said that a gang of vicious men had come in, and it seemed that they were looking for Mr. Rhodes.

I told the guys to be vigilant and not to leave the hotel - these people are of unknown origin, and we don't need to touch the mold.

Unfortunately, sometimes bad luck is hard to escape.

They set the hotel on fire and broke down the walls - on the grounds that "you accepted the employment of Rhodes".

None of the pirates of Bilgewater were embarrassed by the sailors of the merchant ships, who were not even as good as pirates.

We try to resist, but there is no more point in resisting.

Derps's head was smashed; Haldy was stabbed in the chest; The old fritter of Cagros fell to his knees and surrendered, but his head was still screwed off - even the old Sna, who had wiped his face early and was motionless on the ground and pretending to be dead, was mended for it, and his trick had been hidden from the Scarlet Hand, but now it was useless......

Now, it's just me - no, and the dagger in my hand!

A brawny man who thought he had won raised his sledgehammer in the air, thinking that he could smash me like Delps, but when I cut his throat and blood spurted out, he didn't react.

I'm a harpoonner, and I've fought countless terrible fish, the smallest of which can swallow three of these warriors!

This wasn't the first hapless guy to have my throat cut, followed by the second, the third......

Then, I met the woman.

This strong woman riding on a wild boar is indeed very powerful, and I am no match for her.

The flail in her hand seemed to carry a strange power, and I couldn't resist.

Although she is strong enough, I don't have the slightest respect - she is very powerful, but no matter how powerful the garbage, it is just garbage.

Look, she seemed enraged by the look in my eyes—I didn't even say a word before she fell into a rage.

She decided to sink me to the bottom of the sea, and thought she had the humor to say, "Let me go back to the sea."

A failed joke that even the group of idiots under her didn't laugh.

The water in Freljord was so cold that I missed the stinking waters of the slaughterhouse.

The smell of oil was disgusting - they seemed to be trying to get the shark's attention in such idiot-like ways.

But when did sharks become interested in vegetable oil?

The air in my lungs was getting less and less, and the darkness in front of me was getting deeper, and I felt like I was sinking......

Sink......

Sink......

……