Standing at the windfall of excitement, Naji's gaze was cold as a snake spitting its tongue, slowly looking over Jack Sue's shirt and trousers, finally landing on his waist.
The two valuable Damascus Blades were nowhere to be seen, which, although without a known reason, was nothing less than great news to him.
What's easier than beating a bare-handed opponent?
Just as Naji was itching to engage in battle, a lazy and laid-back voice sounded beside him, "Princess Margaret? Princess Margaret?"
The damned familiar British accent successfully shut up the pirates, who looked at each other and at their captain, wrapped in a bathrobe, with a laugh and cry. The golden thread on the bathrobe gleamed under the morning sun with a noble luster.
Of course, there was no princess on board; such an esteemed title was reserved for the captain's beloved cat.
"Hey, have you seen my Princess Margaret?"