A couple of guys with chains and scimitars in their hands approached. These are things that don't have long eyes. I quickly fired a backhand shot, and a large buckshot slammed into their chest. I quickened my pace without looking back, only to hear the sound of my internal organs falling to the ground behind me. I raised my gun and aimed it at Trist's vest, and was about to shoot when my body shook - someone had hit me with a pistol. The Hook Gang has another group of people, and they have brought even more powerful guys.

I rolled to the back of an old fishing boat and fought back against it. The barrel of the gun suddenly slammed and was empty. I angrily spat on the ground, unloaded the chamber, slammed in a round of shiny new bullets, and rejoined the fray. The dogs on the docks all came up. Bullets and arrows splattered wood chips, and the flying pieces of wood cut off a small piece of my ear. I gritted my teeth and fought back, and "fate" devoured everything in front of me like a mad dog. One guy's jaw is gone, another is lying on the beach, and another has turned into a puddle of blood-red meatloaf.

I stood up and looked back, only to see that Trist had run into the depths of the dock. I didn't hesitate to catch up. A fishmonger is hanging up a pile of skinned giant moray eels, their foul-smelling entrails still dripping down. When he saw me passing by, he waved his hook and beckoned me in the face.

Bang!

I knocked out one of his legs.

Bang! — and then the head.

I removed a rancid razorfish carcass and moved on. The sticky blood on the ground had accumulated to our ankles, partly from various seafood, and partly from the unfortunate ghosts who had died at the hands of the two of us. Right now, there was a wreckage of human and animal indistinguishable, filthy and foul-smelling—more than enough for a boy like Trist. Even though I was chasing after me, this kid still had the leisure to slow down and wipe the stains off his shirt.

Just as I was about to catch up with him, Trist kicked and sprinted. I felt like I was about to die.

"Get back to Lao Tzu!" I hissed.

How could anyone have sown to this extent? Throughout his life, he never confronted his mistakes.

There was a shout of killing on the right-hand side, and two more people with iron hooks appeared on a balcony. With just one shot, the entire balcony collapsed cleanly, even the walls and people.

The smoke rose into the air, and my eyes were so dark that I couldn't see anything clearly, but I heard a sound in my ears running over the plank—it was Triste's girly floral leather boots, and I couldn't be wrong. That direction goes to the Butcher's Bridge, and it's the only land route out of the docks. I can't let him run if I die.

As soon as I reached the bridge, I saw Trist brake sharply and slide out two steps before stopping. At first I thought he had a sudden conscience and didn't plan to run away, and then I realized what was stopping him. On the other side of the bridge, there was a large crowd of bastards with swords and shields. But I don't bird them.

Trist turned his head to look at me. Finally, I can't run. He leaned out of the railing and looked at the water under the bridge. The kid wanted to jump, but I knew he wouldn't.

All the tricks are done. He began to walk slowly towards me.

"Malcolm, we don't have to put our lives here. As soon as we get out of here—"

"And then you'll be able to slip away again. You're the best at this. ”

He didn't speak. Suddenly, he looked behind me as if I didn't exist. I looked back.

I saw a dense crowd of people, with knives or muskets in their hands, rushing towards the Butcher's Bridge. It seems that Planck called all the thugs in the city. I already smell death.

But today, it doesn't matter at all whether you can survive or not.

Now the people of the Iron Hook Gang are not in a hurry, they are just catching turtles in the urn. Behind them, it seemed that all the murderous mongrels on this island had arrived, sharpening their knives one by one, their eyes shining. I have no way back.

On the other side of the bridge, the ones blocking my run to the Land of the Free are the Red Hats, who have jurisdiction over the eastern side of the port. They were another of Planck's gangs, along with the Hooks, and almost all of Bilgewater, all loyal to Planck himself.

Graves walked up to me step by step. This stupid big man doesn't seem to realize where we're going to be. I was in a trance, as if I had gone back so many years and that the two of us had faced similar situations countless times, as bad as being in a waist-high. But this time, he won't listen to me anymore.

I wanted to explain to him what was going on, but I didn't think it made sense. He won't trust me anymore. Once his solid head is stubborn, it will take a long time to wake up. Unfortunately, this is not too long at the moment.

I retreated to the edge of the bridge, where there were countless winches and pulley ropes beneath the railing, and beyond that there was the endless depths of the ocean. I felt dizzy, my heart sank to my heels, and I couldn't help but stagger back to the center of the bridge. It was only then that I saw the tragic situation in front of me.

In the distance, Planck's black ship loomed in the morning mist, releasing a dense mass of small boats from its belly and struggling towards the Butcher's Bridge. It seems that Planck's people have poured out of the nest.

I couldn't break through the Hooks, convince the Red Hats to get out of the way, and take down the pig's head from Graves.

Then there is only one way left.

I climbed the bridge railing – oh my God, it was higher than I thought it would be. The wind whipped my coat like a sail crackling. I never want to go back to this hellish place again.

"Get out of here." Graves said. Did I hear it wrong? There seemed to be a bit of desperation in his tone? Come to think of it, if I die like this, the confession he has been searching for will come to naught.

I took a deep breath - it would take several seconds just to fall to the surface.

"Tobius, come down." He sighed.

I couldn't help but be stunned. It's a name I haven't heard in a long, long time.

Then, I jumped off the bridge.

The Hydra is one of the few high-end taverns in Bilgewater. It's richly decorated and graceful, unlike other pauper-infested bars, where sawdust and dust are everywhere. The people behaved elegantly, and there were few signs of spilled alcohol on the brightly lit ground, not to mention the front teeth that fell during the fight. But tonight, the shouts of the patrons could be heard miles away on the cliff.

The gentry and distinguished guests roared vulgar tunes, slapped the table, and laughed and scolded excitedly.

In the center of the crowd, it is the only focus of this carnival.

She twisted her waist and raised her glass to toast the harbor master and his men. The scarlet hair danced like a willow through the hearts of all the men in the room. Only this graceful figure remained in their eyes, rippling endless reverie under the fumigation of alcohol.

The air was filled with a hot breath, and not a single glass dried up for a moment. The red-haired woman is like a banshee in the deep sea, her red drunken face and soft posture make the men crazy, and they can't help but expect her to throw a watery smile at themselves for even half a second.