My Players Are So Fierce

The dim underground tunnels, whose origins are unknown, have undoubtedly been here for ages.

Even the once-grand walls beneath the surface are now covered in gloomy moss. What might have been ancient structures for rituals and beliefs are now just broken domes and constantly leaking bricks. The stories about this place have long been forgotten with time. When the pirates found this place, they thought they had discovered some secret treasure.

But apart from a taste of the past, there was nothing here.

Even if they dug three feet deep, they couldn’t find anything valuable except buried bones. As a result, this place was quickly abandoned.

However, the Blood Fear Clan, being vampires, were quite fond of such gloomy underground structures. Thus, shortly after the establishment of Blood Plunder Bay, this underground tunnel became one of the Blood Fear Clan’s strongholds in the city.

Yet, this clan was not like those ancient families passed down for thousands of years. A vampire community formed by a bunch of pirates naturally didn’t pursue luxury or heritage. The fact that they didn’t throw wild parties here was already quite a show of respect for this ancient building.

In the past, it was only when Duke Pablo the Bloodfear was about to embark on a major plundering that this place would be used.

Mainly, it served as a venue for discussing strategies with the unruly pirate captains and bickering over the distribution of the loot. Therefore, many of the Blood Fear Pirates referred to this underground tunnel as something fancy like the “Pirate Council.”

However, today, this place, which always maintained a high sense of prestige, showcased an entirely different, ridiculous, and pitiful scene.

Nearly a thousand elite from three pirate factions had firmly guarded this place, seemingly unaffected by the chaos above in the city. In the deepest part of the underground’s broken temple, only seasoned pirates with over thirty years of experience were allowed to enter. The rest had to wait in the darkness outside the temple for the day’s outcome.

These men and women, once brimming with confidence and dominating the seas, now appeared haggard, with some nervously looking around like scaredy-cats.

Yet, their fear was certainly not of anything in the material world but of the abhorrent things in the dark, adversaries that blades and bullets couldn’t solve. Some pirates even prayed in the dark for the Midnight Mother’s protection…

If they knew what the Midnight Mother looked like now, these guys would certainly feel their hearts fluttering at their insincere prayers.

In the underground temple, enormous torches were lit, and gas lamps hung from the dome made it as bright as daylight.

Three pirate captains, clad in luxurious yet crude outfits, were personally arranging a peculiar-looking altar with their trusted aides. Some mystical folks acting as priests and monks were chanting beside them.

However, the rituals and prayers they used were entirely wrong, completely incoherent, serving only to perfectly fulfill the atmospheric role while being utterly meaningless.

But none of that mattered!

For a sacrificial ritual, only two factors were crucial: summoning the correct target and offering the correct sacrifice.

The right target needs no more words; the Blood Fear Pirates had been plagued by those persistent bastards for a long time.

They knew exactly to whom they should sacrifice.

As for the proper sacrifice…

Currently, the Bloody Captain, Duke Pablo the Bloodfear, was tied like a pig to a wooden pole. He helplessly watched as his three foolish subordinates did foolish things. He wanted to speak up to dissuade them, but his mouth was stuffed with his first mate’s lingerie, making it impossible to utter a word.

Beside a resigned Pablo, his loyal vampire pirates faced the same treatment.

They were all bound with voodoo-soaked ropes to be offered as sacrifices for the ritual, and the flamboyant First Mate Claire was the second in line after Pablo for the sacrifice.

These superstitious and crude pirates, determined to ensure the “quality of the sacrifice,” had dressed Claire in an extremely extravagant outfit.

Silken robes from the Kalem Ancient Country were draped over her. A bird feather crown, supposedly brought back from the New Continent, was secured on her head. Gold chains worn by Sanghai dancers from the Origin Land were haphazardly tied around her legs, and various vulgar ornaments from who knows where adorned her almost entirely.

The pirate first mate was dressed up like a flamboyant turkey about to be sent into the oven.

Lady Claire, whose aesthetic taste was always quite twisted, actually quite liked this “mix-and-match look.” If she weren’t today’s second sacrifice, she’d surely be delighted to admire her new image.

“I’m telling you, you’re doing it all wrong!”

Pablo was a vampire, skilled in mimicry. Even with his mouth gagged, it didn’t stop him from giving verbose guidance in his own way.

He said to the three pirate captains before him:

“You’ve clearly got the altar wrong! Isn’t this the one we snatched from the Wave Fishman last time? It’s impossible to summon any other subspace creature with it except for ‘Father of Fish’ Daguan.

Let me ask first, you’re not seriously planning to submit to Daguan and let that damned deep-sea sludge cover you, turning yourselves into Merfolk, are you?