Half a month later, in a large wooden conference hall in the middle of the Pirate Port François.

"What are we going to do? Captain Black, you're saying something! I saw a chubby, greasy Spanish man pacing back and forth in the hall, he was already fat, but now his forehead was sweating, and his palms were wet and dripping.

"Mr. Alfonso, things (qíng) are not as bad as you think, please calm down!" I saw a young man with a bronze complexion, a black turban wrapped around his head, a French mustache, and a shrewd look in his eyes, sitting upright on a chair and brushing the short beard on his lips.

If Han Xing was present, he would definitely recognize this person, isn't this guy the pirate Han Xing once met - "Black Jack" Captain Jack Black?

"Calm down? It's all at this juncture, and you're still letting me calm down? Am I calm? You don't go out and see, the French have taken up the fjords in and out of the valleys, and have begun to erect artillery and build batteries on them! The middle-aged Spanish man named Alfonso said with an anxious expression.

"Is this still enough? We should immediately organize a counterattack and fight our way out! If the French had completed the fortifications, we would have really become a turtle in an urn, to be slaughtered! Warriors of freedom, proud sons of the sea, we and those French Yankees have nothing to do with this autumn, but they have invaded our free port, it's time to talk to these damn white skins~" The one who spoke was a tall Latino young man with an eye patch and dirty long hair, who looked like a native of the Caribbean Sea from his almost ** upper half (shēn) and the bone necklace around his neck.

As if sensing the burning gaze of anger in Black Jack's eyes, the aboriginal youth swallowed back the word "pig" and continued: "It's time to fight to the death with those white colonists!" Do they think the whole Caribbean is theirs? No, the Caribbean is ours! We have lived here for hundreds of years, and this is our land! They can't just swagger around and claim the land they own! The aboriginal young man clutched his bone carving necklace and said with tears in his eyes.

"Guys, I think you all know me! I'm Bo-Ka-Zum, and some call me the last Martinique, while others call me the last Caribbean chief of Martinique. I think you've all heard my story at one time or another, that I'm the grandson of Ma-Ton-Da, the last Martinique chieftain.

When my grandfather was young, the Spaniards first came to Martinique, and at that time, we were just curious about these white people, and they had a lot of weird gadgets, machines that would move themselves, call themselves, and walk "da~da~", they called them clocks. They exchanged shiny, round, colorful transparent beads for a piece of land from the hands of the then chieftain, my grandfather's grandfather, and established a city here. ”

"According to my grandfather, when he was a kid, he was fascinated by the city, where the people were very friendly and would give him food and toys. At one point, he thought that the small city was the legendary paradise of happiness. He often went to the city to play, and even sat quietly on the rooftops and steps, watching the white sails entering the harbor in the distance. He told me that he thought, 'If only I could grow up and live in a big house like this!' ’”

"My grandfather, Madonda, grew up in the culture of the colonizers until his grandfather and father died, and he became the chief of the Martinique Caribbean tribe. And at this moment, those cruel colonists showed their true colors, we have given them so much, and live in peace with them, but they are not satisfied! They want more, more land, more wealth. My grandfather Madonda fell for them, first converting to Catholicism despite the opposition of the elders, and then exchanging large tracts of land for the Spanish to build him a house. ”

"And so the tragedy began, and as the city grew further, the Spaniards wanted more land, more labor, so they set their sights on our Caribbean tribes. And because my grandfather repeatedly accommodated them, our tribe's land is pitifully small! This time, we really can't let it go! As a result, the Spaniards completely changed their faces. It's ridiculous that my grandfather's repeated concessions only fueled the ambition and arrogance of the white colonists in the end, and finally brought destruction to the entire tribe! The Caribbean, Pokazu, pulled off the bone-carved necklace around his neck and wept silently.

"This time, they actually extended their claws to François, the last pure land of the Caribbean! I absolutely cannot tolerate it, this time, we are going to fight! Even if we fight to the last man, we will never give up our homeland again, I would rather die on this land, I am a Martinique, I belong to Martinique, this is the place where I was born and raised! And Martinique will always belong to us Caribbeans! Pokazu pulled out the long knife at his waist and said impassionedly.

There were also dozens of Caribbeans present, and these Caribbeans immediately followed Bokazu's "throat ~ throat ~ throat ~" and shouted low, presumably this is the so-called war cry circulated among the Caribbean tribes~

"Bocazu, I know that you hate the Spaniards, and I know how deep your feelings for Martinique (qíng) are. But I have to tell you, if you rush out now, you will only end up being torn to pieces by artillery, which will not only have no effect, but will also bury the lives of your compatriots in vain! When the time comes, who will free the enslaved Martiniques? Blackjack frowned and shouted to Pokazu as he was about to walk out the door.

The visible stiffness of Bokazu's (shēn) body (ròu) really touched his heartstrings was Blackjack's last sentence. The Caribbeans of Martinique have been like candles in the wind after their last ordeal, and they can't afford to wear it out again!

"What, war? Breakthrough? Don't take me with you! I'm just a businessman, I came to François to do a little business, and now I'm stuck here! If it falls into the hands of the French, I'm finished! And my baby, the Queen Isabella, still has so much cargo on board! The greasy Spanish merchant named Alfonso muttered in horror when he heard about the breakthrough and the battle (qíng).

"A businessman of his duty? Hehe! What kind of businessman are you, you cunning white devil, what kind of cargo is that on your ship? It's people! Your goods are alive and dying! You devil who deserves to go to hell, you deserve to be judged by the gods, and your soul will surely fall into the abyss of the bottom of the sea after your death, tormented by David Jones (rì) night after night! The young aboriginal named Pocazu snorted coldly, angrily pointing at the Spanish merchant named Alfonso and cursing.

"Pokazoo, what nerves do you have? I'm selling black people from Africa! I have never betrayed you Caribbeans, and you have fire, why should you sprinkle it on me? Could it be that these black people are also your relatives? What is your relationship with them? Do you need to be nosy! "The greasy Spanish merchant named Alfonso puffed out his cheeks like a bulging frog, and stuck in his waist.

"It's true that I'm not related to them, but we're all the same! Have you ever wondered what it is like to be caught in a strange, language-poor place, far from your hometown, locked up in a dark (rì) cell, unable to see the sun and not knowing the time? There is only a little bit of food and water every day to satisfy the hunger, and the strong can still grab it, and the thin ones can only wait for death. Eating, drinking, and Lazar are all in one place, and people are almost crowded together, so much so that even the excrement is muddy (shēn)! Is such a rì child a human being? Would you like to live like this? You don't treat them as people at all, you just treat them as goods, as animals! I may not be black, but I share their paths, and as a human being, I should live freely under the sky, not be sold as goods! You white people, all the same, are a bunch of self-righteous brutes, you should be locked up in the bottom of the barn, and live that kind of dark (rì) (rì) child! Pokazu said indignantly.

"You, you, these black people, I didn't capture them! I bought it legally from the chiefs of the African tribes, they were the servants whom the chiefs sold to me, I am their rightful masters, they are my belongings! Alfonso, a greasy Spanish businessman, said.

"Really? I guess you're fooling those poor African chiefs with these colorful glass beads, right? Just as your people fooled my ancestors! Pocazu stared at Alfonso with one eye, sneered and pulled out a handful of colorful glass beads from his bosom, letting them slide off his fingertips, "Knock~Knock~" rolling down the planked floor.

The greasy, middle-aged Spanish businessman was speechless as if he had been exposed to a lie. Using colorful glass beads to pass off as jewelry and deceive the aborigines is almost a common trick of Europeans.

"Enough, you two don't quarrel!" Blackjack roared and stood up from his chair and said, "I've decided, let's organize a night attack tonight and find a way to break out!" ”

That night, taking advantage of the night, two Caravel clippers sailed out of the fjord, and when they saw that there was no one around, they were still snickering with joy, but they didn't know that their whereabouts had already fallen in Han Xing's eyes.