The captain, Cutler Beckett, a well-dressed English gentleman with impeccably combed hair, was also observing the strange black iron ship through his telescope.
"No sails, driven by some kind of machinery? Interesting."
There was no hint of disdain on his face; instead, it was filled with the curiosity and greed of a natural historian discovering a new species.
"Order the fleet to maintain distance, do not open fire easily."
He calmly issued the order.
"I want to see what trick the captain of this ship intends to play."
Roger certainly wasn't scared.
He just felt that charging in directly and starting a fight was too lacking in artistry.
War, especially a crushing victory like this, needed a sense of ritual.
He wanted the enemy to realize their insignificance in endless fear and despair.
His ultimate goal was to intimidate them, to make them willingly hand over all their money.
"Hector." Roger put down the megaphone.
"Bring out one of our Armstrong cannons."
"Yes!"
Soon, a breech-loading cannon, thicker and longer than any other cannon on the ship, was laboriously pushed onto the bow deck by several pirates.
The gun barrel gleamed with a cold metallic luster, exuding a violent beauty.
"Do you see that ship over there flying the East India Company flag?"
Roger pointed to the distant "Endeavour."
"Yes, Captain."
"That's the one."
Roger's face showed a benevolent smile.
"Aim for their mainmast."
"Let them know what it means that within range, truth abounds."
Hector's body trembled slightly with excitement.
He personally operated the new cannon, adjusting the firing parameters according to Roger's instructions.
"Fire!"
There was no deafening roar.
Only a dull, short "Boom!"
A specially made armor-piercing shell, with a piercing shriek, drew an almost invisible arc in the air, instantly traversing thousands of meters!
On the "Endeavour."
Cutler Beckett was about to take a sip of the tea Sam had sent when he suddenly felt the ship's hull violently shake beneath his feet!
Immediately after, he heard a ear-splitting "CRACK!"
He looked up.
He saw the mainmast, which required ten grown men to encircle, cleanly snapped into two halves from its middle!
The massive sail, along with the broken mast, crashed down, smashing half the deck to pieces.
The sailors on board let out terrified screams.
The teacup in Beckett's hand dropped to the ground with a "clatter," shattering into pieces.
For the first time, his face lost its composure and elegance, leaving only endless shock.
One shot.
From two nautical miles away.
One shot crippled his proud flagship!
What kind of devil's weapon was this?!
The entire sea fell into a deathly silence.
Sam and his pirates all gaped, staring blankly at the "Endeavour," feeling their minds couldn't comprehend what they were seeing.
"The show has just begun."
Roger snapped his fingers.
"Billy! Buck!"
"Here!"
"Let me show you what firepower suppression is."
Roger pointed towards Sam's fleet, which had already begun to stir in panic.
"Gatling turrets! Free fire!"
"Target! Their sails!"
"Tear those rags to shreds!"
The next second.
The four menacing metal turrets in the center of the explorer's hull began to slowly rotate.
"DA DA DA DA DA DA—!!!"
Suddenly erupted!
Four fiery chains of bullets spewed forth!
The terrifying rate of fire of tens of thousands of rounds per minute formed an inescapable barrage, instantly engulfing the first few chinese cargo ship charging at the front!
That wasn't a battle.
That was a massacre.
The huge sails of those chinese cargo ship, in the face of that impenetrable storm of metal, were as fragile as paper.
They were torn into countless flying fragments in an instant!
The wooden masts and ship sides were riddled with flying splinters, full of holes!
Any crew member on deck hit by a single bullet would have a bloody hole blasted through them.
The other crew members who were not hit were also strangely singing hymns.
In less than a minute.
The five chinese cargo ship at the very front had turned into five bare "ship sticks."
Their sails were gone, their masts broken, the deck was a mess, and there were wailing casualties everywhere.
They had completely lost power, only able to spin helplessly in place.
"Stop."
Roger raised his hand.
The roar of the Gatlings ceased abruptly.
On the sea, only the whimpering of the wind remained, and the faint, distant cries.
Roger picked up his tin megaphone and, addressing the combined fleet that had completely fallen into panic, delivered a greeting from the devil.
"Sam, and that... Beckett."
"Welcome to the Age of Exploration 2.0."
"By the way, you're all surrounded by me alone."
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