Ultimately, Bellamy managed to drag the entire serpent tail section aboard the ship, along with the two giant octopus tentacles he'd snagged. With so much additional weight, the Sea Shark immediately sank noticeably lower in the water. Fortunately, the ship was currently sailing light; the main central holds were empty, allowing it to bear such heavy cargo. If this had been his previous, smaller sailboat, it likely would have been swamped and sunk.
While the crew rejoiced at acquiring such a massive amount of food, a sense of dread also began to creep in. There was simply no way they could eat this much meat. The memory of desperately gnawing through that cuttlefish Sea King last time still made their stomachs churn just thinking about it. But looking at the Captain's expression, if they couldn't manage to eat it, would he perhaps force-feed it to them?
Bellamy paid no mind to their anxieties. The moment the octopus tentacles landed on deck, he immediately ordered the cook to start preparing a feast.
"Set course back! Head for the nearest island." The Sea King hunt was successful; there was no need to linger here.
"Starting today," Bellamy declared, gesturing towards the mountainous pile of Sea King meat on the deck, "aside from regular sailing duties, everyone eats! All of this meat must be finished within three days!"
Without refrigeration, anything uneaten would spoil.
Three days!
Even Drake was stunned. That much meat piled high like a small mountain… Counting the two interns, how many people did they even have? Could they really finish it all? Right, clones don't count as people; they're tools.
"You can't be serious, Captain!" Drake protested. "We couldn't possibly stuff it all down!"
Bellamy wasn't having any of it. Sea King meat was a rare delicacy, something money couldn't buy. How could they possibly waste it?
That evening, on the slightly crowded deck, Bellamy and his crew sat gathered together, beginning to indulge in the hard-won feast. Although the preparations had been somewhat rushed, everyone's spirits were high. After a few cups of strong liquor, Ross loudly began boasting about his past exploits and alleged dominance on the streets of the junkyard. Though everyone treated his tales as jokes, the deck soon filled with laughter and cheer.
Even Bellamy felt the tension ease from his brow, laughing heartily as he leaned back against a bulkhead. The life of a pirate meant endless drifting on the sea, never knowing when the next fierce battle might erupt, never knowing when death might suddenly strike. If not for those intangible dreams, how many would truly choose this rootless, drifting existence?
The day's battle had been exhilarating, but it had also left Bellamy feeling a degree of exhaustion. He was human, after all, not a machine. Seeing everyone laughing so freely helped the tightly wound spring within him slowly relax.
When I threw that punch, I felt like some strange power erupted from inside me. Gazing at the darkening sky, Bellamy casually set his cup aside. That power felt so… domineering.
But why? He raised his right hand, trying to recall the sensation. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, there was no response from within his body, almost as if the feeling had merely been an illusion.
Did I remember it wrong? He vaguely recalled seeing flashes of dark golden lightning flicker through the void. At that moment, his entire focus had been poured into the punch, leaving no attention for other details. Recalling the scene now, it felt incredibly hazy.
Ah, whatever. He dismissed the thought. If it's truly mine, it will be mine eventually. If it really was that legendary power, his current strength was indeed insufficient to grasp it fully.
Right then. Time to eat.
Devouring all of this incredibly nourishing food before him was the fastest path to growth. Behind those simple words lay an extraordinarily difficult road. Only by enduring pain beyond what ordinary people could bear could one hope to surpass the mundane and achieve the extraordinary. The path of the strong was inherently paved with thorns.
Eat. Eat your fill.
The drinking had been hearty, the jokes sufficiently told. Bellamy grabbed a large handful of grilled octopus shreds and began stuffing them into his mouth. Seeing their captain's action, the other crew members exchanged glances, a hint of a wry, pained smile on each face.
"Start eating?"
"What else can we do? Eat."
The two interns were somewhat baffled. Wasn't this supposed to be a great feast? Why did everyone else look so unhappy?
They quickly understood why everyone wore such pained expressions. Sea King meat was exceptionally nutritious, packed with various unknown restorative substances. An ordinary person would feel invigorated and full of energy after just one piece. Even generally strong individuals—excluding monsters like Luffy—couldn't consume much under normal circumstances.
But forcing it down like Bellamy and his crew were doing now, stuffing themselves to the point of bursting—this wasn't eating; it was practically courting death. If someone were selling digestive aid tablets right now, Bellamy's crew would likely pay ten million Beli without hesitation.
The feeling of being excruciatingly full was truly agonizing. That sensation of having food perpetually lodged high in the esophagus, the stomach bloated like a taut balloon, the urge to vomit violently with every single burp—it was an experience no one would ever desire. And worse, they had to endure this for three days straight. Non-stop, relentless gorging. It wasn't much better than actual torture.
Naturally, the two interns were exempt from this ordeal; Bellamy couldn't be bothered with them. But the others, led by their captain's example, could only wear grim faces and force food into their mouths relentlessly.
Three days passed quickly. The remaining meat had already begun to lose its freshness. By then, salted and dried Sea King jerky hung from the bow, the stern, even the masts. Yet, despite their efforts, a significant amount still remained. Bellamy discarded what was left into the sea without a shred of regret.
They still hadn't finished it all. This wouldn't do. Bellamy's Sea King hunting plan wasn't meant to be a one-or-two-time event. It was envisioned as a long-term, phased, systematic process of hunting. The inability to preserve the food had become the biggest obstacle at this stage.
In this regard, Bellamy felt truly stumped. Given the technological limitations of this world—no electricity, no refrigeration—he had to find another way. After much thought, his attention eventually turned back to Mia and Muret.
With that large collection of recipes they possessed, could they perhaps modify one? Could they brew the meat down into some kind of storable medicinal soup? Or, even better, could they extract all the nutritional compounds from the meat, concentrate them, and refine them into pills?
Bellamy presented his idea to them. To his surprise, Mia and Muret immediately raised both hands in enthusiastic agreement. It seemed that even if he hadn't suggested it, the two women had already been planning to create exactly such a concoction. Otherwise, enduring this kind of post-hunt torture every single time would simply be unbearable for anyone.
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