The Lord Demon King is Unfathomable!

The salty sea waves crashed against the hull, breaking into a mist that drenched the tattered hemp sails on the deck but couldn't wash away the stench of mildew, sweat, and old wood!

The atmosphere here was suffocating.

On the deck, a dozen pirates gathered in small groups, either leaning against the mast smoking low-quality tobacco, squatting to gamble, or boredly sharpening rusty machetes.

Their clothes were shabby, their skin tanned dark by the scorching sun, lips cracked, eyes filled with fatigue and anxiety.

Like Lumier, their experiences weren't pleasant, drifting at sea for days like a pack of wild dogs cast out from their lair.

No booze, no women, not even a decent target to plunder.

The resentment among the crowd was like the scent of rotting fish in the cabin, oppressive and suffocating, ready to explode at any moment.

Ticky stood at the bow, gripping a brass telescope tightly, one eye squinted, staring intently into the distance through the lens.

It was a steamship, likely from the northeastern shores of the Vortex Sea judging by its model.

The sails on the mast had already been stowed, and black smoke no longer billowed from the steam engine, making the whole ship seem like a lifeless wreck being cruelly tossed by the waves.

The sailors on deck moved sluggishly, as if resigned to their fate, letting the sea breeze flutter their tattered lapels.

Ticky abruptly folded up the telescope, a cruel smile twisting his lips, then burst into wild laughter.

"Ha... Hahaha!!"

Hearing the captain's laughter, all the pirates on deck turned to look at him, their bewildered expressions tinged with disdain and gloom.

"By the Demon God, thank you for your grace, old man! Damn it, what kind of luck is this?!" Ticky spat fiercely, his face reveling in joy like a starving wild dog suddenly smelling roast meat.

He was once a small nobleman of the Aus Empire, with land, merchant ships, and a retinue of servants circling around him, but all that was lost due to the failure of colonial business.

In a bid to turn the tide, like a gambler who had lost everything, he sold off his remaining assets and roamed out to sea with a group of miscreants in pursuit of money and women, transforming from a graceful Imperial man into a ragged pirate.

The glory of the past, the dignity of nobility had long since blown away with the wind, now his only reason for living was plunder—

For survival, for guzzling strong liquor, for making those garishly made-up girls scream in his bed so he could fantasize about being in his old castle again.

Saint Sis's faith had long been cast aside by him.

He cursed that blind fool, never willing to listen to his desires, even repeatedly leading his fate deeper into the Abyss.

Even today he still believed that he wasn't chasing money, but spreading that damned faith which had driven him to join the overseas colonial wave.

If not for Saint Sis, he would never have lost everything and fallen to this state!

The worst was just a few days ago.

Just after he finished praying, misfortune struck as a whole Imperial Fleet appeared on the horizon, scaring him into fleeing before they could resupply at the hastily built pirate port, and then fled into this unfamiliar sea area, wandering aimlessly.

The morale of the sailors was low, grumbling filled the air.

He knew that if he couldn't find any prey soon, his own head would end up hanging from the mast.

Fortunately, Lord Demon God hadn't abandoned him!

He had only just converted to the Demon God, having only prayed once, and already a perfect opportunity appeared before him like a drizzle—

That powerless steamship was like a whale stranded on the beach, waiting for them as hunters to rip open its belly and take the exotic treasures and gold inside!

Ticky turned sharply, stepping excitedly onto the railing, raising his voice to shout.

"Fools, look here! See what your old man has discovered!"

The pirates on deck, attracted by his voice, turned their heads one by one.

Their eyes still carried traces of numbness and lethargy, but when Ticky pointed towards the steamship, every one of them breathed a little more rapidly.

"Tell me—when was the last time you bastards drank rum to your hearts' content?!"

Ticky glared at them viciously, a mocking smile on his lips, "Or are you used to licking the stinky water that rolls out of the boiler?"

Someone licked their cracked lips, others swallowed hard reflexively.

Those pairs of weary eyes gradually took on a hint of longing, as if the imagined scenes of fatty meat and fine wine were appearing right before them.

"Tell me, what kind of creatures are you?!"

Ticky's voice pierced into their ears like a knife, emitting a sharp, sarcastic sound.

"Are you pirates, or are you those damn monk nosed hypocrites?! Tell me, do you want to play with those damned coconut shells, or the fragrant and soft ladies?"

The fatigue on the pirates' faces was replaced by a flash of excitement, low curses and whispers spreading among the crowd.

Some gripped their knife handles tightly, others licked their teeth, a primal desire burning in their eyes.

Ticky noticed the shift in their moods, his grin growing more impudent, and with a swift motion he unsheathed his cutlass, the blade glinting with the sunlight.

"Your dreams are on that ship! Ah... haha, I can already smell it! The scent of gold, and crates upon crates of rum, and wool bound for the colonies! Maybe there are even some passengers from the north shore of Vortex Sea! There might even be a few pretty noble ladies on board!" he said with a sinister grin, his voice brimming with greed, "As long as we take that ship, you can all drink to your fill, eat to your desire!"