Chapter 173: Buying the Casket and Returning the Pearl

Just as the Fuchuan fleet was slowly closing in on the Dragon from behind, a serious internal conflict erupted aboard the Dragon...

Location: the Dragon's stern cabin.

Inside the stern cabin there was a wall locker; only Chen Huoding had the key. Inside were an AK, an M9 pistol, and a row of magazines—items only the Dragon's captain had the right to use.

Chen Erye was now examining the guns with a face full of satisfaction, inspecting them, then stuffing magazines into a bamboo basket.

Standing beside him, Comrade Ma Liu was red with fury, eyes wide: "Erye, it was agreed this time I'd be the one to act!"

"Hm? When was this agreed?" A certain dark-skinned dwarf with a full beard now seemed to have developed amnesia.

"Erye, don't try to weasel out of it—don't make the brothers laugh at you!"

"They're all our own brothers; if they laugh, let them laugh." Chen Huoding had already finished inspecting the firearms by now. He slung the AK over his shoulder, ready to leave the cabin and go all out, utterly ignoring Ma Liu, who was staring at the AK with eager eyes.

"You black servant!" Now utterly enraged, Ma Liu's face grew even longer. He tore off his usual mask of pretense, and an honorific like Erye was tossed far aside: "If you don't let me use the gun today, I'm done serving you!"

"Then don't serve me. I'll save some chili powder that way."

... Watching Chen Erye about to walk out the door, then glancing at Scholar Han sitting in the cabin enjoying the show, Ma Liu's face went completely red. Left with no choice, he had to use his ultimate move—he pressed close behind Erye, bent down, and whispered into his ear: "Don't think I don't know what you're thinking. You black bastard, you're planning to join up with them, aren't you? Heh, abandoning the Great Lord and the old brothers to go join up in Dayuan!"

Hearing this, Chen Huoding suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"Hehe!" Seeing that he had hit the black servant's sore spot, Ma Liu quickly struck while the iron was hot: "It was already agreed that this time would be a live-fire drill—don't you try to weasel out. Once I've practiced enough, you go join up, and the brothers will have someone to rely on too, right?"

Ma Liu's face was now all smiles. He gently took the AK from the somewhat dazed Erye's hands, then tugged the bamboo basket away. At this moment, the honorific returned: "Erye, don't worry. Heaven knows, earth knows, you know, and I know..."

Paying no more attention to the black servant still standing there in a daze, Ma Liu, AK in his left hand and bamboo basket in his right, took a few quick steps and climbed onto the sterncastle roof as easily as walking on flat ground.

Standing atop the sterncastle, the long-limbed Ma Liu was in high spirits. He glanced sideways at the Fuchuan fleet, now nearly parallel with the Dragon, let out a hearty laugh, then shouted to the brothers on the deck: "Two hundred paces, parallel course!"

... The crewmen, all too familiar with their ship's unique combat mode, began skillfully trimming the sails and working the rudder at the sound. Under the somewhat distracted Chen Erye's command, the Dragon slowly closed in on the Fuchuan ships the next moment. Just as the men on the Fuchuan ships thought the pirates were finally coming to board and fight, the two sides, at a distance of about 200 meters, began to sail parallel once more...

"What the hell are these cheap bastards trying to pull?" The men on the Fuchuan ships were once again plunged into confusion.

Of course, they wouldn't be confused for long. Following the essential movements learned from countless kicks, beatings, and curses from the black servant, Comrade Ma Liu was now in a standard prone aiming position. The next moment, the AK's muzzle flashed.

People of later generations are very fortunate, because they all live in a fairy-tale world.

Thanks to the film rating boards of various nations, later generations' understanding of gunfights is this: a thug fires a pistol at close range, and then the actor, wearing a nice Western suit without even a bullet hole, slowly collapses—the more dedicated ones might clutch their chest with a hand. As for blood? Doesn't exist.

Even more classic is the handsome hero battling bandits: first, masked bandits "dozens of meters" away spray wildly with AKs, then the heroes instantly duck behind car doors, windows, corners... "Rat-tat-tat," a row of bullet holes appears in the shot, and the next moment, the heroes pop out, raise their pistols, and start returning fire...

The reality is this: within 400 meters, a 7.62mm bullet fired from a standard AK rifle will effortlessly and gracefully penetrate car doors, windows, and corners, then turn the people behind these obstacles into spare parts.

Anyone who has truly been on a battlefield knows that out of every one hundred people killed by an AK, no more than 50% leave behind an intact corpse. Arms and thighs flying everywhere, a bowl-sized hole punched through the back by the bullet's kinetic energy, blood and internal organs gushing out—that is Brother AK's true power.

So the men on the Fuchuan ships began to suffer: the first wave of hits tore gaps into the neat human wall. The AK's first two short bursts had gone wide, but the crewmen lined up neatly behind the bulwark did not drop prone on the spot and dial 911—the Ming people had no such awareness whatsoever.

Starting from the third burst, Ma Liu, now accustomed to the rhythm of the muzzle's rise and fall, began hitting the Fuchuan ship over 200 meters away. As mentioned earlier, the wooden bulwark could not stop the penetration of the 7.62mm bullets at all; instead, it became an accomplice. Warheads and wood splinters now flew wildly across the deck, severed limbs danced, blood sprayed, and the human wall formed by the crewmen collapsed rapidly at a speed visible to the naked eye.

By this point, the men who had finally reacted began their on-the-spot practice of crawling forward. But it was no use; the high-energy warheads still ceaselessly penetrated the wood planks, reaping lives.

With a thunderous "Boom!", the Fuchuan ship finally launched a counterattack.

Under the now-crazed Xie Chushui's forceful order, a gunner braved the bullet rain to light the Crouching Tiger Cannon's fuse.

But it was no use: the Crouching Tiger Cannon was meant to be used at the moment a boarding battle began, firing grapeshot at close range to sweep the enemy crew. That is to say, its effective killing range was within twenty meters. Moreover, it was a one-shot deal, because after firing that one shot, the enemy would already be boarding, leaving no chance for the gunner to reload.

Now, firing from a heaving bow at a Sand Ship over 200 meters away, the result was predictable—the gravel scattered like a goddess tossing flowers onto the sea between the two sides, taking not a single cloud with it.

Xie Chushui now finally understood one thing: why this damned Sand Ship insisted on sailing parallel on the open sea.

However, the price of understanding this point was so devastatingly heavy that Xie Chushui himself could not escape the fate of being shot: the bullet struck the Crouching Tiger Cannon and ricocheted into his abdomen.

Enduring the intense pain in his abdomen, Xie Chushui pressed his wound with one hand while leaning against the bulwark and shaking his head—he was struggling to overcome the dizziness brought on by massive blood loss.

The next moment, panting heavily, Xie Chushui looked at the corpses and severed limbs strewn in chaos, and the blood waves flowing ceaselessly with the deck's rocking. He abruptly pulled over a crewman and spoke with difficulty: "Signal... signal with the flag. Tell Old Thirteen to flee quickly. Abandon... abandon ship, every man for himself!"

After saying this, Xie Chushui let go and began staggering along the gunwale toward the stern cabin—there was still a hand cannon there. Knowing there was no chance of survival today, he intended to use the hand cannon to take one more with him before setting off on his final journey.

From the first bullet leaving the barrel to the remaining crewmen on the Fuchuan ship leaping into the sea one after another, the whole process seemed lively, but in reality, it hadn't even taken ten minutes.

In that short span of time, the Fuchuan fleet, having experienced a journey from heaven to hell, had already switched to escape mode. The lead Fuchuan ship was now out of control, its heading gradually veering off course like a drunk-driven truck.

The surviving crewmen were jumping into the sea one after another from the stern, all swimming toward the undamaged Fuchuan ship behind them. And the captain of that rear ship, Xie Shisan, was now ordering the helm turned, commanding the Fuchuan ship to flee toward the mainland.

Yet this was destined to be futile: the Dragon, with only one hundred crewmen and some supplies, was now essentially an empty ship, like an SUV racing across the Gobi Desert. The Fuchuan ships, on the other hand, were like two heavy trucks loaded with sand and gravel. No matter how they maneuvered, they would easily be caught by the SUV, which would maintain a parallel stance at a distance of 200 meters.

The second battle also ended quickly.

This time, the crewmen on the Dragon bravely launched a boarding tactic... The enemies were mostly dead anyway; thirty men boarded to clean up the remnants.

Xie Chushui was struggling to gulp down air. He was now slumped against the stern cabin wall, his face pale, his body covered in blood, his eyes fixed intently on the doorway.

The clamor of shouting outside the cabin door had already reached him. He knew the pirates were right outside the door, and someone would soon burst into the stern cabin. But he now had no strength left to fight back: the vast pool of blood beneath him had drained away all his energy.

Before long, a pirate carrying a short knife indeed rushed in. Bending down to look at the still-breathing Xie Chushui, the pirate gave a hehe smile, then turned his head and bellowed toward the door: "Erye, there's still one breathing!"

... A strange "beep-beep" sound came from outside the door. A short, bearded man then walked into the stern cabin. This man held an odd-looking black brick in his hand; the eerie "beep-beep" sound was coming from that black brick.

After entering, the short man paid no attention to Xie Chushui. Instead, he stared intently down at the object in his hands, searching around the cabin like a feng shui master surveying the land. It didn't take long; the short man arrived at the wall locker. He yanked the cabinet door open and, under Xie Chushui's contemptuous gaze, grabbed the silver ingots inside... no, it was an inconspicuous black box in the corner.

The next moment, Xie Chushui's dull eyes suddenly flew wide open: the dark dwarf placed the black box on the table, then took a string of copper keys from his lower back, selected one, and with a "click," that exquisite copper lock was opened.

After opening the wooden box, Chen Huoding casually tossed two pairs of satin-faced cloth shoes to the fellows at the cabin door, then casually threw those few family letters out the window, letting the sea wind blow them away. Next, Erye picked up the wooden box, groping around inside it while clicking his tongue in admiration: "What a fine treasure. Must be sent back to Tangzhuang quickly; the Fujianese will need it when they go to sea again!"

Hearing this, the dying Xie Chushui had a sudden inspiration at this moment, and a series of continuous images flashed before his eyes:

His clansman-uncle Xie Fuqing, with a face full of helplessness, said: "The Red Hairs' corpses are strewn everywhere, the city wall is blasted apart—how could this possibly be a sneak attack?"

His clansman-uncle Xie Fuqing said angrily: "That Second Manager of Tangzhuang is the sworn brother of the Hangzhou Beggar Sect's Great Dragon Head... You leave now... The day after tomorrow, both ships return to Zhangzhou together!"

The round-faced household retainer Wangcai said with a grin: "When the Ship Master arrives at the pier, he'll see the one who takes the key and opens the box."

Xie Chushui suddenly saw the light. Xie Chushui stared fixedly at the black wooden box and breathed his last.