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... and I was panting for air. It wouldn’t have been weird if I had fallen at any moment, but I continued to run. Even if all my joints were broken, even if my muscles were torn into shreds, I would not stop charging.

My eyes were set on only one thing: the weight I had thrown. The weight had drawn a parabola in the sky and was falling at an alarming rate. I raced toward the estimated landing spot.

I could do this. At my pace, I could easily catch the weight. I was sure of it.

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This is a world where civilization and savagery, rudeness and grace coexist,

The flag of the skeleton is flying,

The smell of gunpowder lingers,

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PS: This article is inspired by the Pirates of the Caribbean, no empire hegemony, and aims to enjoy the wonderful adventure brought by the romantic ocean!

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Originally titled “The End of the World Chef’s Journey through the Story of Bringing Babies”

The era is empty, the life is plain, and the role of space is auxiliary, not the main plot.

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The man looked pitifully at the lady who wouldn’t let him in: lady~

Small fruit? ? ? ?

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