Has it started?
Including Johnson Good,
all the sailors grew nervous, crowding towards the railing of the deck and peering downwards.
They saw the sea surface, stained with blood, bubbling like a boiling kettle,
the seawater churning and stirring, forming waves in stark contrast with the surrounding doldrums.
"Return to your posts!"
The first mate beside the captain barked in a low voice, drawing a cutlass and slapping it heavily against the railing.
The dull sound from the clash of blade and railing jolted these mentally unwell sailors back to their senses,
abandoning their gazing and returning to their respective posts.
Either managing the sails,
or rearranging the winch, preparing to raise the anchor,
or... adjusting the harpoon turret.
Whoosh.
As the owner of the ship, Johnson Good naturally had the right to stand with the captain and watch,
they saw a two-meter tall, ten-meter-long flat black object surfacing from the water,
