Scar-faced Carl shot upright, cocking his head to listen.
"Tom, did you hear that?"
Tom tensed up as well, straining to make out the sound.
"Probably just the wind, right? Or an echo in the gorge? In this damned place, you hear all sorts of weird noises…"
Despite his words, his hand had already drifted unconsciously to the Curved Saber at his waist.
The thick fog continued to blanket everything in silence, swallowing the faint sound as if it had never been there.
Only the cold dampness stubbornly seeped into every inch of wood, every strip of canvas, and the taut nerves of every Pirate.
They didn't know that behind this natural curtain, a pair of sharp eyes had already locked onto their blurry silhouettes.
And with the spreading fog, a meticulously planned "hunt" was quietly beginning.
The next moment, everything changed.
The fog was no longer a silent curtain; it was as if it had been violently ripped apart by a giant, unseen hand.
