Inside a tavern at Golden Palm Port that catered to the masses.
The customers had long since fled in panic, and the owner's face was ashen.
Only a core group of Black Sail members surrounded two corpses on the floor, their expressions blank, as if they were reviewing A4 pages of background materials for a murder-mystery script.
"I get it now, this is a locked-room murder case."
Archer began to play the know-it-all.
"Goddamn locked room, can you stop showing off your limited vocabulary already?"
Shadi's mind was reeling. Black Sail Trading Company might sound good on paper, but in truth, the thousand or so people they brought over were all 3D individuals—low in IQ, low in income, low in quality. Having stayed in the chaotic Narrow Sea for over half a month, and in the turmoil of Mulong Duchy at that, it was no surprise that something had happened.
